Thirty-Four

 

"Do you know how to pleasure a woman?"

With Anahita naked in his arms, Philemon struggled vainly to think of anything but what he wanted to do to her. Her words made him lose the battle.

"Oh, yes. In many different ways," he began, wondering if he dared hope.

"With your fingers?" Anahita asked.

Ah, he'd forgotten she was a new bride on her as-yet unconsummated wedding night. A bride who had never known a man's touch.

He considered for a moment, before he decided to take the risk. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Yes," she said promptly.

In the silence that followed his loss for words, she continued, "When I can't sleep and the dreams return, it's the only way to distract my mind from the memories. If I'm asking too much, Philemon, merely say so, and I will...I will attempt to take care of myself."

His imagination ran riot at the thought of her pleasuring herself in his arms, but the selfish part of him shut down that particular idea. She'd asked him for pleasure, and he intended to give it to her.

"You tell me if it is too much," he whispered, skimming his hand over her hip and between her thighs. She gave a little sigh, parting her legs wider, as his fingers found the right spot.

Philemon wrapped his other arm around her chest and pulled her firmly against him, revelling in the increasing tempo of her heartbeat as his fingers worked the only magic he knew.

Anahita began to moan softly, squirming in his grasp to drive his fingers deeper inside her. She ground her soft little arse against his groin, turning him hard as a rock. He'd give anything to slip more than his fingers inside her. Just one thrust...

She bucked, arching her back away from him as she cried out, not once but twice, trapping his hand between her tightly clenched thighs.

When the moment ended and she lay limp and panting in his arms, Anahita whispered, "I've never...it's never felt that good before. Not even when Haidar – "

"I'm a man, not a eunuch," Philemon snapped, fighting the jealousy curling up at the mention of the eunuch's name. How could she think of any other man when she lay, sated, in his arms?

"I know." She reached down and cupped him, and he was proud to realise it took both of her hands to do it.

It took all of his self-control not to thrust into her warm hands, and demand that she reciprocate. The bliss of those soft hands stroking him, or those wicked lips wrapped around him...

"Do you know how to pleasure a woman with this?"

Philemon grinned. Oh, she was a maiden, all right. No woman who'd ever been loved by a man would have to ask such a question. "A hundred...nay...a thousand times better than with my hands," he assured her. He wanted to beg her to let him show her, but he knew that was too much to ask.

She squirmed around so that she faced him, her oasis eyes fathomless pools in the darkness. "If you can, I give you my word that you may share my bed every night until I return home."

His breath caught in his throat. Was she really asking...?

Anahita took his hesitation for reluctance. "And when we reach home, I will press my sister into finding the enchantress who cursed you, and making her break the curse. If you show me the pleasure you would show your bride on her wedding night." She moistened her lips. "Please."

He reached up to cup her face in his hands. "On a wedding night, the pleasure must be shared," he said, then kissed her.

She stiffened at first – kissing was still too new to her – before Anahita melted into his touch, kissing him back with far more passion than he'd hoped for.