The Family - Mario Puzo [22]
She was a treasure, Lucrezia—and not only for her beauty, though there was no silk finer than the golden ringlets that framed her face. Her eyes glistened so brightly that they always seemed to hold a secret. Now the Pope wondered what it was that made them shine so. She was built in perfect proportion, though still a slight bit thin, with budding breasts and smooth unblemished skin. A joy to behold, a perfect dream for any man who would possess her.
And his son Cesare? No Olympian god of antiquity had more perfect stature. Tall and sinewy, he was the picture of strength in young manhood. Ah, that he had the other virtues, to serve him more effectively than his driving ambition. But in this moment Cesare’s face softened as he looked at his sister standing across from him.
“Am I quite beautiful?” Crezia asked her brother. And when he nodded, she turned her head toward her father. “Am I, Papa? Do you think I’m as fine as any young woman you have ever seen?”
The Pope nodded and smiled slightly. “You are beautiful, my child. Truly one of God’s finest creations.” He raised his right hand slowly, drawing the sign of the cross in the air, and ministered a blessing. Then he instructed them to begin.
Alexander’s heart was filled with joy and gratitude for these children whom he loved so deeply. He imagined that God the Father must have felt much the same way as he watched Adam and Eve in the garden. But after only a few moments’ amusement he was intrigued by that thought. Was this the hubris that so many of the pagan heroes suffered, he wondered, and quickly crossed himself again, asking for forgiveness. But they looked so innocent, his children, so free of guilt, their young faces bright with curiosity and pleasure, that they would never visit a paradise like this again. And was that not the purpose of man and woman? To feel God’s joy? Had not religion caused enough suffering? Was that the only way to honor the Creator? The world of men was so full of treachery; only here in their father’s palace, in Christ’s Holy See, would his children ever feel as safe and protected. It was his duty to see to that. These times of great pleasure would carry them through the trials and travails they must eventually encounter.
The large feather bed was covered with silk sheets and fine linens, and so when Lucrezia fell onto it she squealed with enjoyment. His manhood already aroused, Cesare leapt quickly onto his sister, startling her. “Papa?” she cried aloud. “Papa, Cesare is hurting me . . . ”
Pope Alexander stood. “Cesare, is that the way you’ve learned to bed a woman? What a pity. Surely I have failed you, for if not me, who should have shown you how to bring Heaven to Earth?”
Cesare got up and stood by the bed, eyes blazing. He felt rejected by his sister and reproached by his father, but still he was a young man and so his ardor had not cooled.
Alexander approached the bed as Cesare moved aside. “Come here, my son,” he said to the boy. “Come here. Crezia, come closer to the edge.” He motioned to her, and she moved gingerly over toward them. Then, with his hand placed over his son’s, he began to stroke his daughter’s body, slowly, tenderly. First her face, then down her neck and across her small firm breasts, as he instructed Cesare. “Don’t be in such a hurry, my son. Take the time to enjoy beauty. There is nothing as exquisite in the world as the body of a woman, the smell of a woman as she surrenders . . . willingly. But if you move too quickly you will miss the very essence of the lovemaking, and startle the poor things . . . ”
Lucrezia was lying quietly now, her eyes half closed, her breathing quickening, as she felt the pleasure of the stroking of her brother’s hands on her body. When he reached her belly and began to move downward, her eyes opened and she tried