Rital of Proof (19 page)

"We've only observed fragments. Their ambient mood cycle mirrors the path of the moon around Arkeus. Intense introspection at apogee, illuminating insight at perigee."

"Perhaps it is coincidence."

"No, it is more. The observations have been too profound. There are some methodologists who have gone so far as to say that Forus seems to
respond
to these people in some arcane—"

Jorlan snorted.

"I know it sounds absurd, but I tell you the phenomena have been observed on more than one occasion—and with different Sensitives. The methodologists have no explanation for it."

"And you think this describes me? A deviant who enigmatically resonates with the spirit of Forus moon?" He laughed hollowly.

Green gazed at him sharply. She hadn't said anything about the "spirit" of Forus. "What I think is that if there existed a Sensitive of strong attributes, who was also powerfully
linked
in some way to Forus, he would do his best to hide it. After all, he would be constantly walking a dangerous line."

Jorlan's lids lowered. Aqua sparks glinted between black lashes. "Perhaps you simply wish to think you got an exceptionally good bargain for the bed price, Marquelle."

"Perhaps. Time will tell."

"And if you are correct in your assumptions—what then?"

Green toyed with the edge of the coverlet. "If such a person were also of strong temperament, then it could be argued that he could be a threat to our way of life."

"Would you see it that way?"

"No. Such a person would need a strong name-giver to temper his rash emotions while guiding his strength to its full potential."

"Are you such a person, Green?" He spoke softly.

It was as close as he would come to revealing himself and she knew it. "I am such a person, Jorlan. But, regardless of what may or may not be, know this: I will allow you freedom here on the grounds of my estate, where you may explore your own thoughts. However, I expect you to behave civilly and always to respect the traditions of the House to which you now belong."

His nostrils flared; he hated to be hemmed in by these foolish rules of society!
Hated it.
"How could I not keep your blessed traditions?" he snapped.

"Jorlan," she said in warning.

He folded his arms across his chest and gazed up at the interlocking branches above. "How like these sheensui we are, Green. Entwined by another hand, we now grow inexorably together. What final pattern will we make?"

"What, indeed, Jorlan."

It did not escape her that he had neither committed to the rules set before him nor admitted to anything of a more personal nature. He was a shrewd, astute debater, better than many so-called masters on the floor of the Septibunal.

A tiny smile graced his face, an acknowledgment of her own cleverness. He interlaced his fingers and stretched his muscular arms out. "So, name-giver, what were these 'other' ways you spoke of? To experience pleasure differently?"

"Didn't forget that, did you?" She gave him a wise look.

"I simply am curious to seek knowledge." He attempted to appear innocent. "Of course."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Show me how it is we can achieve pleasure 'other ways,' " he whispered, "or I will forever doubt that such a thing is possible and—"

He lost his voice because Green's mouth was already showing him and had come very close to his oversensitized manhood in the process.

He could feel the heat of her breath on him. Moist and searing.

All she did was breathe over him, yet to that tender skin it became so much more. Hot streams of air embraced him like a sultry breeze, stimulating the responsive tissue.
Like Forus breath...

Jorlan closed his eyes; his private vision one of connection and continuity with cycles of rotation and life.

Then she suddenly blew on him, cool, moist puffs that contrasted sharply to the steamy heat. Uninhibit-ediy, he moaned as his responding arousal invigorated every pleasure center in his body. Shivers coursed through him. "You can do this to me without physical touch," he rasped. "How is it so?"

"You are a Sensitive, Jorlan. Your ability to feel is not rooted simply in the tactile perception, it is more, deeper. This pleasure I will give you will awaken many responses."

"I am not what you think," he groaned hoarsely, already losing himself in the erotic stimulation.

She ignored his denial, paying more attention to his response. "This will not irritate the tender area, for there will be no handling or rubbing."

He was surprised. "You think to bring me to release without touch there?" His breathing deepened, thickened.

"Yes." She pressed her soft mouth to his groin, kissing and laving him everywhere but where he most wanted to feel her lips. As expected, his response was stellar. The low sounds rolling from deep within his throat told her what she needed to know. Jorlan was giving himself over to the passion.

She slid up the side of his body, her warmed skin like the finest, supplest coverlet over him. Jorlan's entire body shook with his awareness. He lifted his head to kiss her. She pulled back, lifting her breast for him, sweeping it against his mouth in invitation.

His pupils blazed with desire and he quickly took her into his mouth, suckling greedily on the sweet, hardened tip.

He was an adept novitiate. Soon his drawing actions changed, became subtler, his tongue flicked over the hardened peak, he let it skim over his face, his eyes, and to his lips again. It was as if he had delved into the sensation and lost himself in it.

And by his wanton actions, he was drawing her right along with him.

Now it was Green who cried out in pleasure. She ran her hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands slide between her fingers. Never had she experienced such an exquisite sense of response!

He called out, a low, rumbling ache of sound that vibrated to her toes. The outcry was so erotic, so sensualistic, that she cried out with him.

"You taste intricate, Green. Like the variations in a Ramagi web... " Imitating her earlier actions, he pulled back to gently blow a stream of cool air over the protruding, moistened tip. Green trembled in his arms.

He glanced up at her through his lashes and smiled slightly. A combination of age-old knowledge and new delight.

Emboldened, he breathed hotly over the same spot, making her sigh his name.

That was when Jorlan discovered three very important things. He discovered that he loved provoking this response from her; he loved watching her as he showed her
his
response; and he loved the sense of power all of it made him feel.

In that moment, Jorlan Reynard broke free of a thousand years of male sexual conditioning.

He became the aggressor.

Shocking her, he wrapped his arms tightly about her waist, bringing her down on top of him on the bed so that they were flush against each other. His fingers skimmed along her sides, brushing back and forth, up and down as his mouth once more laved her breasts. Taking the tip and a good portion of the plump breast into his mouth, he drew heavily upon the globe. He experimented by flicking his tongue across the swollen peak. And then his teeth.

Her moaning reaction was all he needed. He feasted on her then. Showing no mercy, he laved and flicked and suckled and bit. His hands cupped her under her arms, easily lifting her higher so his mouth could find better access to her chest, the underside of her breasts, the satiny plane of her torso.

"
Jorlan,"
Green gasped, placing her palms on his shoulders. She tried to think, but it was impossible! A familiar dizziness assailed her. Something about what he was doing was...

She blinked. He said she was as intricate a Ramagi web, but he was spinning it! "You—!"

He quickly interrupted to shift her focus. "Do you not like what I am doing, name-bearer?" His teeth captured the tiny bud in an abrasive graze. He tugged sharply, slowly letting the firm tip slip from his grasp.

She lost her breath completely and tried to wiggle away from him.

He held her fast.

He discovered his revenge. He rediscovered his capture. In a sense he felt as if his true shield had been broken, and with it, he felt himself come alive. It was strange yet wondrous. Powerful yet humbling.

For he was neither hunter nor prey yet both at the same time. She had pierced him, but he thought he just might have the ability to
shatter
her.

Sexually, at any rate.

Jorlan came to the revelation that what he had initially viewed as his surrender may in fact become his release.

In this one area, at least, he would find his equality with her.

He would demand it. But not verbally. Physically.

Green sighed over him, her breaths coming in tiny shivery gasps.

Jorlan's mouth opened over the plane above her stomach and drew on the skin there.

She quivered against him, lost. "Ohhh... Jorlan, I think we—"

"Mmmmmmmm."
He rolled the sound, letting the vibration slice through her. He could feel her dampness against his chest now. She was excited for him. She wanted him, he knew.

Oddly, the idea of that made him groan. He swelled even more and felt himself begin to throb against the downy softness of her legs.

While he did this, his fingers slid into her auburn curls, tangling in the short strands that wrapped around his fingers. Tugging gently, he immediately felt more of her dew; it covered his hand. Just the feel of that hot, slick substance made him tremble.

Suddenly, he wanted to feel the velvet channel hidden between her nether lips. So he slid his fingers between her folds. He had never felt anything so perfect; so wonderful! It reminded him of the hameeri flower, whose soft pink petals shielded a honeylike bud; its sweet nectar so highly sought after.

Her scent covered him along with the dew and was just as sweet. It almost made him wild.

Without thought, he slipped his long middle finger inside, going deep into the passage. Her muscular walls surrounded him with tiny contractions. Her body trembled and he thought he felt a small bite behind his shoulder. His lips curled at that.
You like that, do you, name-giver? Perhaps you will like this even more...

He stroked inside her, long, deep, even thrusts that mimicked what she had done before. He watched her eyelids flutter shut. Then he stopped being aware of what he was doing and simply reacted, giving over to something deep and elemental inside him. An instinct unmined until that moment.

He did not even stop to wonder how she would react to what he was about to do.

He just did it.

He moved her up on him to just the right place.

Green's eyes shot open. "What are you... !
Sweet Cybella!"
His mouth covered her and that was the last rational thought that Green was to remember.

Jorlan's tongue delved between her folds, flicking and sampling, sending her already inflamed pulses to the sky. Intuitively, he knew exactly what would give her the most enjoyment, where to press, when to suckle.

The first time his tongue found that extra sensitive hidden spot, Green reared back from him. Jorlan knew the pleasure was so intense it was almost pain for her. His palm planted flat against her rounded buttocks and pushed her firmly against him. His other hand reached between her legs and squeezed the folds of her lips tighter against his mouth and tongue as he stroked the delicate tissue, flicking the spot he had discovered, over and over—until he knew she couldn't stand it anymore.

Her soft mews were exciting him beyond his own rational thought.

Jorlan did not seem to know where he was or who he was or what he was doing. With a raw growl, he gave himself over to this new, enticing sense. The heady taste of her intoxicated him and all he wanted to do was scrape his tongue inside her. It was a shocking idea, but once it entered his head, he knew he was going to do it. Wanted to do it.
Had to
do it.

He dipped inside her. Carefully at first, absorbing the sense of her.

Green sobbed, clutching his strong shoulders. Shocked senseless, she tried to wiggle free of him.

His response was to sink his tongue in her as far as he could go. He began stroking her...

Green started screaming. She did not even recognize the sounds she was uttering.

Then he did the unthinkable.

He withdrew from her, spread her lips with his fingers and blew coolly. Right on the hidden spot he had discovered.

"Arc-it!
Stop this, Jorlan! You're killing me!"

His tongue flicked rapidly against the now throbbing spot, sending her higher. She spasmed repeatedly against his lips, choking and sobbing and moaning his name.

He did not stop.

Jorlan felt her contractions and felt himself respond. The pulses resonated through his body, gaining as hers did, matching them in strength and frequency. When she screamed her release, he roared his but a few seconds later.