Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [110]
He smiled. "What did you have in mind?"
"You fell asleep in a rather inconsiderate fashion last night," I pointed out. I'd kept my word and performed the languisement Jehanne had taught me. It hadn't made him weep, but it had pleased him greatly. And to be fair, I hadn't followed her instructions to the letter. I wasn't entirely sure she hadn't been teasing about putting my finger in his bottom. She had looked altogether too amused at my reaction to the suggestion. Once I could get past being disconcerted by the lingering scent of her perfume, I'd have to spend some time reading the book on Naamah's arts she had sent me.
"Consider it a tribute," Raphael said.
"Consider this a request," I replied.
He laughed and granted it.
It was nice, the nicest it had been between us that night. Raphael was thorough and considerate, taking his time to please me. I loved the feeling of him inside me, moving in and out, the slow waves of pleasure building. I loved the golden warmth of him. I loved the feeling of his shoulder blades beneath my hands, his hips rocking between my thighs. I matched my breathing to his, Master Lo Feng's lessons somewhere in the back of my mind. I wished it could always be this nice and simple.
Afterward, Raphael slept.
I lay awake for a time, my body sated, but my mind still alert. Raphael sleeping looked younger and more vulnerable. I stroked his tawny, silken hair. "What are you up to, Raphael de Mereliot?" I murmured. "What manner of business best left unsaid before your household?"
He sighed in his sleep and said Jehanne's name.
I fought the urge to tweak his hair. "She's always there between us, isn't she?" I said ruefully. "More than you know. But whatever it is you seek in this mysterious pursuit, it seems only I can give it to you."
He sighed again, wordless.
"Oh, fine." I kissed his cheek. "Sleep."
On the morrow, I had another lesson with Master Lo Feng and the ubiquitous Bao and his ubiquitous staff. I thought the Ch'in physician would teach me another style of breathing, but I was wrong. He merely sat on his mat with his legs folded and bade me practice the Breath of the Pulse of the Earth.
I practiced.
It came easier this time. I got bored, but then the boredom passed. I went deeper into the earth and deeper into my own body, feeling the energy pool and gather in the pit of my groin. There, it sat and radiated, waiting to be tapped. It wasn't a sexual feeling, but almost. I liked it.
"Very good," Lo Feng said when we had finished. The corners of his eyes crinkled in that lovely hint of a smile. "Are you sure there is no Ch'in blood in the People of the Brown Bear?" He glanced at Bao. "Or Tatar, perhaps?"
"No," I admitted. "We came to Alba from far away a long, long time ago when the world was covered with ice. Is Bao a Tatar?"
Bao shot me a scathing look, his fingers tightening on his staff.
"His father was," Master Lo Feng said calmly. "It happened during a raid. Through no fault of his own, Bao is a child of violence."
Bao surged to his feet and stomped away, the butt of his staff stabbing at the grass. A moment later, he stomped back and helped his mentor to his feet, averting his face to hide an expression of rough tenderness.
"Do you ever smile?" I asked him.
"Do you ever stop asking stupid questions?" Bao retorted in heavily accented D'Angeline.
"Yes," I said—and said no more.
His lips twitched.
"You nearly did." I pointed at him. "I saw it. You very nearly smiled."
"Children." Lo Feng's voice silenced us. He shook his elegant head, casting his gaze skyward. "Will you spend your energy wastefully in foolish bickering, or will you conduct yourselves as students of the Way in dignity and discipline?"
I inclined my head. "I'm sorry."
Bao muttered.
Master Lo Feng laid a hand on his shoulder and said something soft and gentle and lengthy in Ch'in. I saw Bao's wiry shoulders hunch and tense, then relax. He propped his staff in the crook of his arm and bowed in the Ch'in manner, hands clasped, an expression of aching yearning on his face as he gazed at his