Burning Tigress (21 page)

He ached to touch her; and indeed, as the cotton cleared her knee, his hands shifted. While his left continued to slide her stocking free, his right cupped the back of her thigh. He massaged deeply, pressing his fingers into the Commanding Activity point before pulling the energy higher, toward the Rushing Door. And when her stocking was at last lifted away, he set her leg away from him rather than back to her cinnabar cave. In short, he opened her to him.

"It is time,
xiao jie,
to become a woman. Will you accept this?"

She nodded. The only indication of her nervousness came from the quick dart of her tongue against her lips.

"Put your hands on your breasts. Press your fingers just inside your nipples."

Her eyes widened, but she obeyed.

"Move them in ever-expanding circles. In your mind, repeat these words:
I disperse the pollutants. I remove the blockages."

He said the words first in Chinese, then again in English, to be sure she understood. Then he watched as she closed her eyes and began the circles. Her lips moved as she repeated his words, and he felt a smile curve his lips when he realized she spoke in Chinese. Whether she realized it or not, she was becoming a proper Chinese Tigress.

"Excellent," he said. Then, without even thinking, he betrayed them both. He shifted his right hand to rest palm-side up. Then he slipped the tip of his finger inside her.

She gasped and reared backward, but he pursued. He pushed his index finger all the way in. "Move your hands!" he ordered. "You are throwing off pollutants. You are—"

"I am purifying my yin," she said in Chinese.

"Yes." And he could feel that she truly was. As she closed her eyes and repeated his words, her yin circled his finger, matching the movement of her hands. It was growing stronger. The dissonance in her energy was fading, and pure, beautiful yin flowed out and around him. Her cinnabar cave was like a furnace, filled to bursting with female heat.

He slowly, carefully, worked a second finger inside her. He wanted her desperately. Oh, to drink of her strength, to fill his body with the heat of her furnace! He began to curl his fingers slightly, stroking against the roof of her cinnabar cave. His other hand pressed against her belly such that her Gate of Origin was engaged from both outside and in.

"Reverse direction," he ordered. "Move your hands in circles
toward
your nipples."

He looked up at her. Her skin was flushed, her breasts large and beautiful as she stroked them; but it was her eyes that caught him. Normally a light blue, they now pierced him with the force of her determination. She continued to murmur and chant, but it was the wrong one now.

"'I stoke the fire. The yin builds and builds,'" he growled. When she didn't understand, he repeated it. "Say it! 'I stoke the fire. The yin builds and builds!'"

She matched his words, and as she spoke she leaned forward. She echoed his sounds as well, growling and hissing as he had. And all the while, her hands circled her breasts ever tighter.

Without being told, she pulled at her nipples. Without his order, her thighs fell open and trembled, pushing against his hand even as he thrust his fingers inside her.

"More yin," he ordered. "Focus!"

She gasped as he braced himself, using his knees to shove her legs farther apart. He had two fingers fully inside her now. Could he manage a third? She was slick, but small. And yet, even as he hovered in uncertainty, she arched against him. She pushed herself down onto his hand and he spread his hand to catch her. Two fingers delved deep inside to fully stroke her cave roof. His thumb slid up to circle her yin pearl, and his other two fingers slid backward to press into the place of Inner Meeting. All throbbed with the force of her yin.

"Such power," he breathed. "Do you feel it?"

"Is it pure, Ken Jin?" she gasped. "Is it enough?"

"No," he lied. "Focus, Charlotte. Build the power until your entire body sings with it."

"I stoke the fire," she chanted. "The yin builds and builds. I stoke the fire. The yin builds and builds."

Her yin had long since drawn into his arm and blood. He felt it swirl around and through him. He watched her hands on her beautiful breasts: circling, circling, tighter and tighter. He echoed her movements with his fingers, his hand, and power followed their movements. It built in both of them. He felt it push to her nipples just as it roared through his body straight to his mind. It burned in his blood and the smoke fogged his mind.

"I stoke the fire," she chanted, her words throbbing in his veins. "The yin builds and builds," she cried, and both their thighs began to pulse. The energy was rising, drawing up from her toes. Without looking, he knew her feet were clenched. His body mirrored hers, and his entire body was pulling together.

Her knees were rising as the power curled inward; his hips were arching forward. Her hands were narrowing, drawing close to her nipples again. And his thumb extended, poised to open the gate with a single flick.

What he did was insanity. Purified yin could enslave a man. Touch it once, and you craved it forever. And yet, it was too late for him. He felt it. He touched it. He had plunged his hand deep inside it.

"I stoke the fire," she said.

He withdrew slightly, sliding his thumb between her lotus petals. Then he pushed deeper, rolling his thumb in a long, wide circle around her yin pearl. All the while, he watched the movement of her hands.

"The yin builds!" he said.

Another circle. She was almost there.

"And builds!"

She pinched her nipples. He rolled his finger across her pearl, and finally, at the right moment, he pushed.

Fire roared through him. Yang leaped from his belly and dragon to pour into her. The energy flew from him while his dragon tried to span the distance between their bodies. And while his seed was gone forever, lost to the inside of his trousers, the power made the leap. His yang essence wasn't contained only in the dragon cloud; that energy had bridged the distance, flowing through his hand into her cauldron.

He emptied himself in moments, his body and spirit depleted of all his yang storage. Charlotte expanded. Inside, her energy built, her power intensified. On and on and on, her body contracted around his hand. Her head flew back in ecstasy while her internal pump pushed the energy upward, ever higher. She let out a cry of stunned amazement, and then she stilled. Her body became lax as her spirit left her.

Ken Jin stared at her in shock, his release leaving him hollow and cold as he realized the hideous truth. His yang, purified and strengthened through years of devoted study, had just taken Charlotte Wicks to Heaven.

* * *

March 18, 1895

Dearest younger brother Feng Jin:

I tear my heart and beat my breast at the most wretched news I heard today. Truly, can both our parents and our most cherished grandmother be dead? It is not possible, and yet I am told that the Wen family acupuncturists are almost all gone. Only one practitioner remains—namely, yourself.

I shall come to Peking next week to pay my respects.

In great wretchedness,

Your brother.

Ken Jin

~

March 24, 1895

Kind Stranger,

Acupuncturist Wen Feng Jin spoke about your letter. Pray do not distress yourself on behalf of his family. Grieve instead for China and the curse that haunts our great land.

It is true that the Wen family has suffered greatly of late, but only recently has Mr. Wen discovered the true cause of their misfortune. The Wen grandmother, steeped in the confusion of old age, wrote often to an evil sorcerer. He is a young man, once of Chinese descent, who early showed his deceptive ways in a crime of great magnitude. He now works for the barbarians, aiding them in their depravity as they poison all of China.

The Wen family elders died because of this association with the sorcerer. Grandmother Wen corresponded with this evil man, and in response, Heaven cursed the family with a sickness that claimed her life and the lives of her son and daughter-in-law. Late at night, neighbors still hear her ghostly wails of despair. I can only pray that the evil sorcerer does as well.

Fortunately, Mr. Wen was untainted by her deception and so escaped death, as did Mr. Wen's other brother. Indeed it is believed that the eunuch Wen's devotion to the Emperor is all that prevents total disaster for the family. His service to the Emperor balances out the evil perpetrated by the sorcerer.

Perhaps one day the sorcerer will understand the horror he does. Perhaps he will recall the honored traditions of his ancestors. All the Wen family prays earnestly that he returns to the appropriate relationship with his elders and Emperor.

In the Wen family, of course, that means the second son must devote himself to the Emperor's service. Indeed, eunuch Wen tells us that the medics outside the Forbidden City are most effective, and few die of castration. Such an act of devotion would most certainly dispel the evil cloud that darkens the Wen family home.

If only the evil sorcerer Ken Jin would forsake his cursed ways and devote himself to his proper place. They say castration is not nearly as painful as most believe. A single stroke removing stalk and pearls, and then the agony fades. We pray nightly that this evil man repents and visits the surgeons. That is the only way to reverse the family curse.

Sincerely,

Lo Xin Si

Assistant to the Wen family patriarch

When an anxiety attack occurs, Sea of Tranquility (on the center of your breastbone) is the single best point to use for relief. Find the indentation in the breastbone, four finger-widths up from its base, to hold with your fingertips.

Acupressure for Emotional Healing

Michael Gach, Ph.D., and Beth Henning, Dipl, ABT

Chapter 9

Ken Jin's power flooded Charlotte's belly. Heat and strength and something incredibly wonderful filled her, mixing with her essence and becoming exponentially more fabulous. She wanted to ask what he'd done, wanted to pause just for a moment to orient herself, to see and feel and categorize, but there was no stopping the sensations. And she had no breath to ask.