Lady Lure (16 page)

“How kind you are to me,” she whispered.

It was then, with Perri swooning in his hands
and his own senses rapidly approaching a state of flagrant
disarray, that Halvo had a brilliant idea.

“Perri, would you like me to show you the
Demarian way of giving comfort?”

“Oh.” She went rigid in his arms, making
Halvo regret his suggestion. “What would I have to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said.
“The purpose of the activity is for a man and woman to comfort each
other, to their mutual pleasure.”

“You do need comfort, Halvo. I can see you
do.” Perri considered the matter for a moment, her eyes
contemplating first Halvo’s glaringly obvious need and then his
serious face. “Perhaps it would be best for you if it were done in
your own way.”

“I agree completely.” Halvo could feel her
trembling, though whether it was from fear or eager anticipation he
could not be certain. He did know that Perri had locked inside her
a wealth of vibrant emotion. It only wanted release. Perhaps a
judiciously administered shock or two would help. “The first thing
we must do is remove our clothes.”

“You wish to see me naked? No one ever has,
not since the day I was born, except for Melri – and Rolli, of
course.”

“I thought you wanted to do this in the
Demarian way,”’ Halvo said.

“Well, yes. I am sure the Demarian method
would be more pleasing to you.”

“Exactly. Shall I help you with your
tunic?”

“Thank you.” Her fingers were already at the
shoulder fastenings. With Halvo’s assistance she pulled the tunic
over her head. The sleeveless shirt she wore beneath was as white
as her skin and made of a sheer, clinging fabric that revealed the
luscious curves of her breasts and their small, firm nipples.

Halvo could not resist. He placed his hand
over one breast. The sound Perri made was not a gasp or a moan or
even a sigh, but rather a combination of all three and yet her own
inarticulate expression of astonishment and delight. She went
perfectly still when Halvo pulled the undershirt out of her
waistband and lifted it high so he could replace his covering hand
with his mouth.

She was unbelievably sweet and soft. Her skin
was like rich cream, her nipple a tightly budded flower beneath his
lips. Halvo was close to losing himself in her, frighteningly near
to forgetting that the lovely creature in his arms had some
peculiar gaps in her experience.

“Why are you making me feel this way?” Perri
cried. “I cannot think clearly.”

“What I am doing is an old Demarian custom,”
Halvo said with all the gravity of an ancient wise man.

“But if I lose my wits, how can I serve you
properly?” she asked. “I do not wish to hurt you, Halvo, but I may
if I am not fully aware of what I am doing.”

He did not tell her he intended for her to
lose her wits completely. He did not say the only way she could
hurt him was by refusing to go on with what they were doing.

“You must remove your trousers and boots,” he
said. “Then it would be very nice if you would help me to take off
my clothing.”

“You want to be undressed, too?” Plainly, she
was puzzled by his Demarian ideas. “It is not necessary for a man
to undress.”

Blast you, Elyr! What have you done to
this girl? What did you make her do for you?
Halvo was
beginning to have a pretty good idea as to the answers to those
questions, but he decided not to dwell on thoughts of Elyr. It was
Perri who was important to him.

“It is the Demarian custom for both
participants to be unclothed,” Halvo said.

“Oh, I see. Well, I would not want to
infringe on the traditions of your homeworld.” Without any further
protest, Perri removed every garment she wore.

For his part, Halvo was too entranced by the
beauty she revealed to do anything but lounge on one elbow,
watching each graceful movement she made. Her waist was slim, her
hips curved perfectly, and her legs were long and shapely. And
there, where her thighs joined, was the place…

“Now.” She knelt before him, blushing down to
her lovely breasts, but not acknowledging any embarrassment. “You
wanted me to assist you.”

“Yes.” He sat up and let her remove his
tunic. He stayed very still while she looked at him and touched a
few of the battle scars, both old and recent.

“Truly, you were badly wounded,” she
murmured.

“There are worse scars beneath my trousers,”
he said. “You should be prepared, Perri. My body is not a pleasant
sight.”

“I think you are a marvelous sight.” Her
fingers played lightly with the hair on his chest, then wandered
down toward his belt. “Halvo, we ought to hurry. You appear to be
dreadfully uncomfortable.”

“I can wait a while longer,” he said with a
throaty chuckle, “because I know at the end I will find complete
comfort in you, Perri.”

“I hope you will.” She was having trouble
with the fastening of his belt. Halvo undid it for her and then,
brushing aside her hands, he peeled off his trousers and boots and
stood so she could see him as he was, scarred and discolored and
ugly. He had to know if she would show any sign of revulsion, if
she would flinch away from what he had become after space pirates
and Jurisdiction surgeons had had their way with him.

“Oh, poor Halvo.” Her concern was not for the
wounds he had once suffered, nor for the scars they left on
healing. There was not the least flicker of disgust in her eyes,
and she looked at him from head to heel. What she put out her hands
and touched, what she took into her hands and caressed, was the
swollen manhood he could not control. “How painful it must be. Let
me ease you now.”

“Not yet.” He seized her hands in his, lest
she instantly accomplish what he was trying his best to delay. He
dropped to the blanket and pulled her down to lie beside him.
“There are still some Demarian preliminary customs to be
observed.”

“I apologize. I assumed you would want
immediate relief. Tell me what I should do, Halvo.”

“What I want,” he said, “is for you to
instruct me. I want to know what will please you, Perri. On
Demaria, the man always pleases the woman first.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” Could any experienced woman
actually be this naive? She claimed that since the night of her
sixteenth birthday she had repeatedly been taught how to pleasure a
man. She was certainly eager to get her hands on Halvo, and from
the gestures she had made toward him, she knew what she was doing –
was remarkably skilled, in fact – yet she appeared to be
unaccustomed to feeling desire herself. The answer to that puzzle
was obvious to Halvo. Elyr had taken his pleasure and left Perri
unmoved. Halvo was determined that before he took his pleasure
Perri would believe the stars had moved.

Knowing she enjoyed kissing, he resumed his
lovemaking there, tasting her mouth so thoroughly that soon she was
whimpering and moving against him in innocent provocation. Halvo
had to force himself to remember his overall purpose so he could
banish the urge to release his mounting desire in her before she
was completely aroused.

He covered her face and throat with kisses,
and while he did, he let his hands wander across her soft, smooth
skin along breast and hip and thigh. She touched him, too, and he
allowed it, knowing the tactile sensations would further awaken her
desire. But there was one place where he could not allow her to go.
Repeatedly he had to snatch her hands away and tell her to wait. He
could see her confusion growing, even as she steadily warmed to
him.

And finally, gently but firmly, he drew his
hand upward along her inner thigh and began to explore her most
sensitive spot, hidden beneath dark red curls. Perri bit off a
scream.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she cried.
“What does it mean?”

“Hasn’t anyone ever touched you here?” he
asked. He could not say that cursed man Elyr’s name. Not there, not
at such a moment.

“Is this the way a man feels when a woman
touches him?” Perri gasped.

“Just this once,” he said, “stop asking
questions and allow yourself to feel, Perri.”

She fell silent. Slowly, Halvo let one finger
slide inward, gently so as not to frighten her, steadily so she
would know he was not going to stop.

She did not ask him to stop. She made a soft
sound of acceptance, her body closed around him, and Halvo knew his
time of waiting would soon be over. He nearly spent himself just
thinking about it, but by concentrating on what Perri would require
of him first, he managed to gather the last shreds of control and
hold on. She would be worth the waiting.

Perri was lying beside him with her eyes
closed, her body moving in a slow, sensuous reaction to the
constant stroking of his finger. Halvo withdrew his hand. Her eyes
flew open.

“Oh, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I have only begun.”

Drawing her thighs wider apart, Halvo
positioned himself at the entrance to the one place in all the
universe where he wanted to be.

“Halvo, what are you -” Perri moved as if she
would fight what he was doing. Unable to stop himself, Halvo pushed
against her. Sudden comprehension brightened her lovely features.
“This is what Demarians do? Oh, Halvo, yes, please! Please!”

He required no more encouragement. Halvo
moved boldly forward until he met an obstruction. Perri winced, but
then pushed against his presence to help him. Her small hands were
flat on his buttocks, pressing hard, giving him a message she was
too caught up in amazement and passion to speak aloud. Halvo was
filled with joy at the discovery he had just made. Not wanting to
hurt her, he tried not to be too precipitous, though his body was
clamoring for its long-denied release. After a second or two,
during which he fully expected to die from the strain he was
exerting upon himself, Pern’s body stretched to accommodate him.
Halvo buried himself in his love. When Perri smiled up at him there
was nothing he could do but kiss her, long and deeply and
passionately.

Before he dragged his mouth away from hers
she was wriggling beneath him, getting the feel of him so far
inside her. When he saw a question come into her eyes, he answered
her before she could speak. He began to move, slowly at first,
then, realizing that he was not causing her any pain, he stroked
faster and more fiercely. To his delight, Perri moved with him.

Halvo told himself to hold on just a little
longer. Perri was sighing and moaning and pushing herself against
him. Her fingernails dug into his back, urging him to continue. It
would not be long. She began to struggle, as if the pleasure were
becoming more difficult for her, and Halvo reached down a hand
between their bodies to help her.

She screamed and convulsed around him. Never
had Halvo seen anything as beautiful as Perri experiencing her
first fulfillment as a woman. Then his own reward was upon him. He
could wait no longer. There was no more need for him to wait. Halvo
poured all his passion and all his love into the woman still
shivering in delight in his arms.

* * * * *

Halvo slept. Perri lay beneath his arm,
secure and content. And while Halvo was asleep Perri thought about
all the things that had been required of her on Regula and all the
things that had been denied to her. She thought of what Halvo had
taught her and how, in a burst of comprehension, so many previously
misunderstood bits and pieces had come together in her mind,
coalescing into knowledge. She could remember the women of Elyr’s
household murmuring together and the way they fell silent when she
approached, how they refused to tell her what they had been saying.
She recalled the sudden appearance of a tiny baby, the child of two
of Elyr’s married servants. No one would answer her questions about
how the child had come into existence. With a dismissive gesture
Elyr’s mother, Cynri, had said that when the time was right, Elyr
would explain to her what should be done so Perri could have her
own child.

Now Perri knew how it was done. But she did
not think she would have enjoyed the act so much with Elyr. The
thought of Elyr invading her body made her ill. With Elyr, it
would
have been an invasion. And now Perri knew why. So many
questions answered by one miraculous deed. And so many new
questions raised.

“Halvo?”

“Hmmm.” He stirred, awakening, and his arm
tightened around her.

“Halvo, I have a question to ask you.”

“Of course you have.” He postponed what she
would ask with a long, tender kiss, but eventually he had to remove
his mouth from hers.

“Halvo, will we have a child?”

“Would you like one?”

“I think so. I would love it and care for it
as Melri cared for me. And of course, I would have Rolli to
help.”

“You do understand that it would be necessary
to get official permission first,” he said.

“But, Halvo, what if I am already – what if
…. I fear I do not fully understand the complete process.”

“I can see that you will need further
instruction in this subject,” he teased, “not to mention an
explanation of the inevitable consequences.”

“Halvo, what are you doing now?” she gasped,
her mouth against his.

“It’s an old Demarian custom,” he said.

“Halvo, abducted?” Leader Almaric, ruler of
the Jurisdiction, looked stricken. His sharp features had gone pale
and his tall figure, still lithe and slim despite his advancing
age, was held stiffly upright as if to ward off the terrible blow
just dealt to him.

“Explain yourself, Capt. Jyrit,” Lady Kalina
said. In contrast to her slender husband, the First Lady of the
Jurisdiction was a rather stout woman. Her bronze hair was
liberally sprinkled with gray and her sparkling blue eyes, her sole
claim to beauty, were filled with a shrewd intelligence. It was
widely rumored that many of Almaric’s best decisions as Leader were
in fact his wife’s decisions, and the entire Jurisdiction