Burning Tigress (13 page)

She should have screamed long ago. But since she hadn't, she ought to just keep her legs closed. He would leave then, and they would both pretend that this little interlude had never happened. She would wake in the morning, finish her toilette, and help William with his. She and her brother would do daily lessons in the nursery, and maybe Joanna would return so they could talk about her adventures. Charlotte would sit on her knees and listen with breathless envy to her best friend's exciting life and never, ever have an adventure to tell of her own.

She looked Ken Jin in the eye, and slowly widened her legs.

He gave no indication of pleasure at the sight. In fact, he gave no sign of any emotion at all. He could have been a dark Chinese tree for all the reaction he gave. And she felt her irritation rise as the cold night air hit her most private parts.

She had assumed he would give her the blade. After all, she'd shaved her brother's face on a few occasions, and was skilled with a straight edge. But he was her servant. If he wanted to stand there looking like some towering god, then she was damn well going to put him in his place.

She lifted her chin and closed her eyes, just as she instructed William to do whenever she shaved him. Of course, Ken Jin wasn't going to scrape her face, was he? And she was never more aware of that fact—and of her vulnerability—than when she felt the bed shift beneath his weight.

She cracked open an eye. He was climbing onto the mattress to kneel between her legs. His expression remained impassive, but there was no disguising the enormous erection that strained his trousers. Especially as it was framed by her open thighs.

Charlotte swallowed and a moment of panic gripped her belly. What was she doing? She closed her eyes, too caught in indecision to watch. Should she scream? But how would she explain her position on the bed? Had she gone too far to stop? Of course not. And yet... Something cold and wet hit her belly, and she flinched, releasing a whimper of fear. Her irritation at his attitude fled. It was nothing more than pretense anyway. Anything to cover her fear.

A strange scent permeated the air: cloves, sandalwood, ginger, and other exotic scents. She had smelled them before and in this combination. Her eyes popped open. "That's the oil you use. Your cologne."

He shook his head as he continued to dribble the perfumed oil between her legs. "I do not use your English cologne."

"French, actually—"

"This will make the shaving process easier." His gaze flicked to her face. "And more stirring to your qi."

She blinked, not understanding what he meant. The oil was cold; the irregular drip annoying. She didn't like the feel of slick fluids coating her. It was... She blinked. It was
heating.
Wherever oil and skin connected, she felt a slow simmering of warmth expand and grow. The sensation was mildly pleasant at first, but soon it became like fire beneath her skin.

"I will burn up!" she gasped.

Ken Jin frowned and abruptly stopped pouring. "It is just mild stimulation," he said.

Charlotte shook her head. Indeed, her legs were beginning to shake. "No, it's not, Ken Jin. It's..." She swallowed. How to explain the pulsing inferno growing between her legs. She was beginning to sweat. Her thighs fell wider and wider open in an effort to cool herself off. She even began to pant. "It's so hot. Get it off! Get it off!"

He fumbled for a moment, obviously thrown by her reaction, but his hands soon steadied—a good thing, actually, as the only way to get the oil totally off her skin was to be shaved clean and to have any residue wiped off.

He quickly began scraping. The rough glide of the razor brought fresh sensation to the bonfire raging beneath her skin. Her buttocks tightened to lift her off the coverlet, but the increased air only intensified the reaction.

Her legs shook harder. Her breath had quickened to the point of dizziness, so she let her head drop backward. She felt her nipples tighten as they jiggled, and she found she liked the sensation. But that wasn't enough. She needed more pressure, more feeling above to counter the power below. Reaching up, she massaged her breasts. She grasped them, pulling at the nipples, drawing herself every which way in search of the best sensation, the most stimulation.

"Your yin is... it's boiling over!" Ken Jin said. She heard awe and shock in his voice, but she didn't care.

"Touch me," she ordered. "Touch me or I'll scream." She might scream anyway, but at least this way she could focus on something—on the glide of the razor, on the touch of his hands, on anything but the building pressure to cry out, to explode.

"Try to direct the energy," he coaxed.

"Where?" she gasped.

Then she felt him. A single finger found her core and pushed inside. She straightened up on a gasp, half shocked and half relieved. She needed to see what he was doing. Like before, when he put his finger in her mouth, he only pressed in to his first knuckle; but she felt the sensation all the way to her spine.

She tried to pull away. Nothing had ever invaded her like that. Nothing had ever expanded her like this. He pushed deeper. She moaned and arched her hips. But not away; she wanted him deeper. She wanted to know just how powerful he was, just how much he could make her feel.

"Draw your energy down, Miss Charlotte. Send it to me. I will catch it."

"How?" she gasped. "I don't understand."

"Move your hands in circles on your breasts."

Her whole body was shaking; her buttocks tightened and released against the bed. She recognized the build to climax, and yet... this was different. This was with
him,
and this was so much more than ever before.

"Circles, Miss Charlotte." When she didn't obey, he shifted slightly. "Mimic me, Miss Charlotte, do what I do."

She didn't understand. Her entire lower body was on fire, and he wanted her to...

She felt his finger. No, not his finger—his thumb—on her private parts. It slid forward, higher than where his finger was embedded deep within her. It flowed upward, slipping under and around her most sensitive spot.

"Your hands, Miss Charlotte. Move them around your nipples exactly as I am moving around the yin pearl." His thumb roved a long circle counterclockwise.

"No," she growled. "You're missing—"

"I am not missing anything, Miss Charlotte! Do what I say." Again came the long slow circle that sent shock waves of heat across her skin. And not just her skin; the heat—the
energy
—went deeper, through her belly and up her spine, every direction but inward, every place but where she most wanted it.

"Miss Charlotte!" His voice held an unsettling note of panic.

"Yes, yes." She tried to focus. Her hands lay on her breasts, so it took little effort for her to push them into motion. She couldn't manage a single direction, so she moved both hands together, toward her breastbone, then circled inward and up, over the tops before coming down again. But it wasn't what she wanted. "I need more, Ken Jin."

Her legs were spread wide. She was half sitting, half reclining, but her entire body was pushing toward him, toward his hand and the circles. His voice was like distant thunder in her ears—barely heard and yet still powerful.

"Your yin is chaotic. You must focus it, Miss Charlotte. You must—"

"I can't!" It was a wail.

"Hush! You will wake the entire household!"

She swallowed and nodded. But her breath was in gasps, her body usurped by this overwhelming heat.

"Focus!" he ordered, and she saw the sweat bead on his brow before his head dropped between her thighs. "I will draw out the yin, but you must send it to me." Then he dropped to lie flat on the mattress, his wide shoulders spreading her legs even farther.

His fingers withdrew, and she whimpered at the loss. But then she felt his hands cup her buttocks as he lifted her up. His fingers burrowed along the sides of her tailbone. Four pressure points on either side, digging down toward him in a rhythmic pull. Wonderful, but too little.

She began to whimper, not in desire but in frustration.

Her hands jerked off her breasts. She had to stabilize her position on the mattress or fall. Random eruptions of heat burned her skin—on her neck, around her left hip, down by her shin—but none of it made any sense and the whole experience served to confuse her even more.

"What are you doing?" she gasped. Would there never be an end to this heat?

Then she felt something. Wet and cool—yet another sensation her disordered thoughts could not comprehend. What was it? She forced her thoughts to organize. She needed to gain some measure of control, and she used the sensation as her focal point. It took a moment for her to realize Ken Jin was stroking her with his tongue. He used the same pattern his thumb: around and up. Circles. No, more like a figure eight.

The air, wetness, and knowledge of what he was doing combined to cool the flash fire, but not put it out. "Ken Jin, this cannot be right—" She ended on a gasp as he stopped his figure eight. The point of his tongue stayed just where she wanted it, spiraling into a glorious pressure point. One moment... One moment more... But then he stopped and lifted himself away.

"Send your yin to me now, Miss Charlotte."

She nearly growled in frustration. She didn't even understand what this "yin" was.

"The
heat,"
he pressed. "Send the fire to me."

The fire? The pulsating waves of flame that rolled not only through her skin, but in her belly, neck, and fingertips.

"Put a pillow over your face."

She blinked and lifted her head. The sight was most alarming. She was wide open. Ken Jin lay between her legs. And though his entire demeanor seemed distant—almost casual—his face showed something different. His eyes were dark and calm, and in this light, his expression seemed to contain something more: a secret knowledge, a wisdom that pervaded his every action. And so she obeyed him without comment.

She grabbed a pillow, but could not stop looking at him. She did not want to break eye contact.

"I will open the gate now," he said, glancing meaningfully at the pillow. She felt his thumbs pulling her open. "When the yin rushes, you might scream. You do not wish to wake William, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Then lie back and cover your mouth—and send your yin fire to me."

She did as she was told. She let her head drop back. The pillow smelled of lilac and starch, and the weight was hot upon her face. Ken Jin's tongue was circling around and around in the most amazing way. She tried to gather her thoughts. She mentally catalogued each little flame that seared her body. Was that yin? How was she supposed to send it to him?

It made no sense. In truth, she felt silly doing it. But his orders were too compelling to refuse, so she mentally commanded each little locus of heat to where he...

He began to suck, right at the top of his figure eight. His lips encircled all of the flesh and pulled. She felt a blockage there. She didn't understand any of it, and yet she knew there was something preventing the fire from crossing to the cool wetness of his tongue.

He pulled again. The heat was building exponentially behind the dam. Especially since she was trying to send all the other fires to it. Her neck tensed with steam. She ordered it to his mouth. Her shoulders burned. She sent it to his lips. Her belly caved to her spine as flames compressed her insides. She sent it to his tongue...

He sucked again. Harder this time. Charlotte clenched the sheets, drawing the cotton into crumpled knots that became torches in her fevered imagination. She sent the blazes down to him as well. She had to break through the barrier. She had to sear and burn and destroy all that separated her from him.

It worked! The barrier burst into flames and disappeared. Power flowed.

There was no warning trickle, no small flow that became large. The change was enormous: silent one moment, electrifying the next. A current pulled from the top of her hair, from the farthest reaches of her fingertips, her mouth, and her nipples—roaring through her. It sizzled and cracked through each restriction until there was nothing in its way.

Her belly contracted in orgasm, but it was more than just that. Her entire consciousness pulsed and pushed and poured. She became a river of lava. She was the crackle and fire of electrical current. And Ken Jin was the well into which she poured.

More and more, the river grew, the current shining brighter and hotter, until he suddenly stopped. She felt him collapse against her thigh, his breath heavy, his body trembling.

She whimpered in protest. Without him to take it, the heat continued to build without release. Her legs quivered and her belly clenched, but there was no outlet so the power began to curl in on itself.

"No," she sobbed into her pillow. "Ken Jin, please..."

She felt him against her thigh, still gasping for breath. "There is so much," he murmured, awe in his tone.

Her body was still shaking, and not with release. The energy was churning inside her, and she was beginning to feel ill from the heat.

"Take it away, Ken Jin. There is so much, I cannot contain it. You must take it!"

If she had the strength, she would have forced him. She lifted the pillow off her face to order him, but her hands were trembling with untapped power, and the cooling streak of air against her wet face confused her even more. How could she be crying? Her body was a torch that was consuming itself. There was no moisture left in her. Only fire.