Healer's Touch (6 page)

Her scent engulfed him, her body encompassed his vision until she was all he saw. As she fucked herself with the ivory cock, she began to make small, plaintive, mewling sounds in her throat. His universe had shrunk until it was her alone, her and his weak, mortal flesh, her and the need of her. She was as a goddess who demands worship above honor or justice or any other good thing in the world.

Fluid dripped from the stretched opening of her sex and pooled onto the sheet. A part of him longed to press his face to that patch of wetness, drag his tongue along the damp linen, and then turn and catch her honey on his lips.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her eyes searching, her hand still plunging the ivory cock in and out of her swelling cunt. He knew she was close. He could feel it in the trembling tension of her muscles, the heat of her skin, the wet, hungry warmth of her panting breaths.

“Come for me, Aru,” she hissed, arching, stretching ever closer to her crisis. “Give me your seed. Ah, Aru!”

And he was on his knees, obedient as a slave, choking with the force of his release. He tugged furiously on his bucking cock and watched as his come spattered the twin globes of her bottom to drip down the seam of her buttocks and over her puckered anus. She was crying his name, over and over, as if she could claim him that way, as if she would have the very gods know he was hers. And as he watched, her sex performed that stunning, mesmerizing clamping down, grasping at the ivory cock as if it would never let go.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. How could he have let this happen?
Again,
god help him? How could he be so weak?

When he looked again, she was slinking like a satisfied cat off his bed, rubbing her musk-anointed hands all over his blankets. Aru knew what she was doing, how she marked his linens with the scent of her arousal, and he knew that even if the smell was washed away, he would never be free of the memory of it.

She bent to pick up her robe, and all he could do was stare at the perfect roundness of her buttocks, the glistening wonder of her cunt. And even as shame and regret assailed him, he knew he would do this again, over and over. She was a sickness in him now.

She left as quietly as she had arrived, her naked length gleaming in the candle's glow, her robe whispering across the floor where it trailed from her hand. His throat closed and he almost wept—relief and loss intertwined.

When he finally reached for his blanket, his hand encountered the cool smoothness of the ivory member. She'd left it behind.

With great care, he took it in his hand. Lifted it to his face and breathed in deep through his nostrils.
Gods, her scent.
Gooseflesh rose all across his skin as a host of carnal images danced before his mind's eye. Men and women, their limbs a tangle of quivering pleasure, pressed one so close upon another it was impossible to tell where one body ended and the next began. Feminine lips stretched around turgid male flesh, hard, masculine hands roaming across a soft, blushing landscape of breast and belly. A glistening cunt speared by fingers, tongue, member, and all manner of objects, the more commonplace, the more indescribably erotic. And for a moment—no more than that—an image of himself on hands and knees, and of Viera rising up behind him, sliding the carved shaft he still held in his hands deep inside him, in that place which now held such dark and brooding fascination for him.

His eyes flew open to find his fingers tightly gripping the horn. As if he held a talisman of singular evil, he set it quickly down on the shelf of his nightstand. It lay there like a threat of damnation.

Paldir have mercy, what was happening to him?

Chapter Five

“How are you feeling?” Viera asked Inella over a cup of herbal tisane the next afternoon.

Inella blushed and hid behind her cup, but not before Viera saw the hint of a smile. “Good as new. Better than new.”

“It wasn't too scary?”

Inella's smile spread. “It was scary. But then it wasn't anymore. I can't believe…even after four years of marriage, and the…the things I have done since, I had no idea how…” Her face went redder than ever, and she shook her head at herself. “When you assist him…?”

Viera nodded. “It's the same.”

Inella's eyes widened. “When he…when he heals a man?”

“Oh, yes. His talent does not discriminate.”

The other woman sipped thoughtfully, her brows drawn.

“What's the matter, my dear?” Viera asked.

Inella shrugged, but her face betrayed her anxiety. “I just wonder, was it just that once? With him? I mean, will I still be able to…?”

Poor thing. She had only just discovered the joys of sexual release, and she had no idea whether she could experience them without Aru's influence.

Viera reached over and squeezed her hand. “Of course you will. I'm sure of it.” She rose and refilled their cups, glancing out the kitchen window to where the two children played in the courtyard. They'd be leaving soon, all of them. Viera had found them an apartment this morning—not a house, mind you, but with plenty of room for four people. Mai and the children would begin moving in this afternoon, and as soon as Inella found decent employment, they would be gone for good, getting on with their lives.

“Inella, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to hire someone for a night.” She turned to study the other woman. “For sex. I…am aware of how you have made your living since your husband disappeared. I thought maybe you might know someone.”

Inella reddened once more, but beneath her flush, Viera could detect a hint of green. “I…”

“Oh, my dear! I'm an idiot!” Viera cried, hurrying back to her chair and taking the woman's hand in hers. “Please don't be embarrassed. I'm the last person in the world who would judge you, Inella. Before I came to work for Aru, I earned my living as a prostitute. And I have no children to feed, no ailing mother to support, no excuse at all but easy money and the cheap, empty pleasures of the flesh. But I worked on my own, mostly. I have no friends in the business and I don't know who else to ask.”

Inella took a deep breath. Her eyes darted toward the door as if to check for anyone who might listen. “What do you need?” she asked quietly.

Now it was Viera's turn to be embarrassed. “Never mind. It's a foolish idea.”

“No, please. Tell me. After all you've done for me, the least I can do is hear you out.”

Viera fought down the little burst of anticipation that coiled in her belly as she thought of her plan. It had materialized seemingly out of nowhere as she lay sated in her own bed after her encounter in Aru's last night. She'd been right before. She could lure him with sex, but sex alone would not capture him. It would only make him grow to hate her. She understood the ruthless logic of his voyeurism—he could watch all he liked, and as long as he never touched her, his marriage vow would remain unbroken—and Viera had to admit, the no-contact rule was exciting in its way. But there was a limit to how long she'd be willing to endure such an arrangement. She needed physical closeness, fleshly intimacy. She needed to be touched. And deep down, she knew he needed it too. She had to make him see what he was missing, and the only way she could do that was to invite another person into their little circle of desire.

She opened her mouth to begin, then shut it again. How to word her request? “Master Aru and I…”

Inella smiled. “You're lovers.”

“No!” Viera said, shaking her head. “Well, yes. But no, not exactly. I…would like us to be lovers. He needs some convincing.”

“Why?” Inella's gaze seemed entirely perplexed. “I mean, look at you! What man would not want you?”

“It's a long story,” Viera chuckled. A thousand years long, yet it could be summed up in two words. “He's married.”

Inella's smile shriveled. Viera could only imagine what Inella thought of her designs on a married man. “Go on.”

“A thousand years ago, during the genocide, Aru and his wife and the other Darjhian survivors fled Serpere. When the immediate danger was passed, six thousand were ordered by their god to return, to hold the western border of the Dragon's Head. They held a lottery to decide who was to go. Aru was chosen. His wife wasn't.”

“She didn't join him.”

Viera shook her head, trying to keep her scorn from her face and knowing she failed miserably. “Why would she? She lived in paradise, with all she could want. And he was just her husband. Why would she give up the Deathless Land to live here in hell with him? He's been alone ever since. Eight hundred years in an empty bed—can you imagine what that must be like? Yet he endured. Persevered, because he always assumed he'd be able to return to her one day. Then, during the war, he fell from his god's grace.” She forced a laugh to conceal just how close she was to tears. “It wasn't even his fault—that's the worst thing. But that doesn't mean he wasn't punished for it. His immortality was forfeit. Nearly all the Darjhi have returned now to the Deathless Land, but not Aru. He's not deathless anymore. He's stuck here, forever. And still, she does not come to be with him.”

“What a bitch,” Inella murmured, scowling into her cup.

Viera sighed, her anger abandoning her until all that was left was a bleak grief. “And yet he holds to his marriage vows. Even knowing she has likely taken another husband. He says he's no longer the man she married, and so he can't hold her to her pledge. He's not so generous with himself.”

Inella set her cup down. “But that's awful!”

“Yes it is.”

Inella took a long sip of her tea, toying with the end of her thick, blonde braid. “So why do you need to hire someone?”

Viera leaned forward, checking the door to ensure Aru was not standing there. He was supposed to be out on a call, but he could move in utter silence when he wished. The last thing she needed was for him to come home early and catch her plotting. “For the last two nights,” she whispered, “Aru and I have…” Have what? Masturbated in front of one another? As technically accurate as that description might be, it lacked a certain nuance of emotion. With a frown, she began again. “Night before last, he came into my room. He watched while I…” She could feel her face fill with heat, but the other woman's eyes remained free of moral outrage. “We did everything a man and a woman can do without actually touching each other.”

She searched Inella's face for some sign of revulsion or disdain, but there was none to be seen. “Last night, I came to his room. I brought a toy, an ivory member, and I…used it on myself while he watched. I could feel how much he wanted me, but still, he would not touch me. He's still loyal to his wife.” She shook her head at the sheer stubbornness of the man. “I can't win him that way. Not with my own hands. He'll always be able to resist. But then I thought, maybe if I had someone else there to touch me? Maybe if the hands on my body were not my own, maybe if he could see my hands on someone else's body, maybe then he wouldn't be able to remain so aloof. And maybe if I showed him what he's missing in withholding himself—not just the sex, but the holding and cuddling and sleeping in someone's arms—maybe he would want it enough to finally set his wife aside.”

Inella sighed and shook her head. “I wish I could help you, but I don't know any men in…the business.”

“I don't want to hire a man.” At Inella's frown, she explained, trying to ignore the flush she could feel creeping up her cheeks. “There's a line between envy and jealousy. I want him to covet what he can't have, not fly into a possessive rage. He'd see a man as a rival and god knows what he'd do. What I need is a woman who would be willing to…to make love with me. In front of him. A woman who would be able to find pleasure in it, and in lying asleep in my arms. I want him to see the closeness that can happen between two people when they are permitted to touch one another, but not in a way that might make him feel I've betrayed him.”

“I'll do it,” Inella said softly.

Viera stared, feeling her face get even hotter. “Oh, I couldn't ask you, my dear! I would never forgive myself if I pushed you to do such a thing out of gratitude or some sense of obligation. Aru charges no fee, and I cannot in good conscience ask you to… No, Inella. I only brought it up because I thought you might be able to suggest someone.”

Inella's chin lifted. “I just did.”

“Inella—”

“Viera, please. I am grateful for all you've done for me, but this isn't about gratitude. I want to do this. I want to know if I can feel…like I felt yesterday. I had a regular customer last year, an old man who often paid me and another woman to perform for him. I learned to pretend to enjoy what we did. Now I want to see if I can just enjoy it, and forget about the pretending. I feel close to you. And to Aru. I feel safe here in a way I haven't since Ned went away. Please, let me do this. Not just for you. For me too.”

Viera stared into Inella's deep, green eyes and saw nothing but earnestness. The woman had borne two children, lost her man, her home, endured the kind of life that makes a woman lean and hard around the edges, but there was still a softness to her. A blush of unrelenting youth that no amount of hardship would banish. Viera's eyes fell to the other woman's lips, pink and tender like the velvety petals of a rose. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss them.

“All right,” she said on a swelling rush of anticipation. As Inella's cheeks reddened, Viera drew in an unsteady breath, feeling her nether parts come awake. Part of her wanted to start right now, but Inella was only a few hours risen from her sickbed. “Tomorrow night.”

“Tonight,” Inella said.

Viera opened her mouth to argue, took one look at the determination on Inella's face, and bit her tongue. “Tonight then.”