Burning Tigress

by Jade Lee

  "I didn't know you were a slut before."

  She backed up to the bed. "Let me go!"

  "Give me the scrolls."

  "I'll scream!"

  His hand went to her throat, quickly cutting off her breath. The force of his assault knocked her backward onto his bed, carrying him down on top of her. He was a large man with trained hands. He knew how to make a woman's yin flow like a glowing river, and he knew how to stop it cold, which was exactly what he planned now. He pressed his hand into her throat, restricting her breath but not stopping it. Then he leaned down far enough to whisper his threats into her ears.

  The motion brought his dragon full and hard against her skirt, and the bonfire that was her cinnabar cave began to torture his thoughts. Her legs slipped open and he thrust fully against her. Thankfully, the barrier of his thin trousers and her even thinner skirt kept him from slipping inside her heated cave. Still, he could feel her wetness, even smell her scent on the air as their bodies ground together. Once, twice, even a third time he pressed forward, his yang strengthening to a hard rod of glorious power.

  "This is what happens to sluts," he said as she gasped beneath his onslaught. "This is what those scrolls teach. This is the life that your Joanna has embraced." He did not add that her friend's choice would probably lead to her death. He wanted to frighten Charlotte, not inflict a pain that would come all too soon. "This life is not for you. Now give me those scrolls."

  "But," she gasped. "Ken Jin..."

  She was struggling. Her face was flushed, her eyes were wide; even her back was rigid with horror. So he thrust one last time, hard, his meaning unmistakable despite the separation of fabric. And then, as a further punishment, he crushed his pelvis against her, round and round in the pleasure circle.

  She would not soon forget his meaning or this experience. Her reaction was coming; he could feel it. Her body was rigid beneath him. Charlotte had great pride, but she would give in. It was her female nature to yield, especially when a man showed his superior strength. This was inevitable, and Ken Jin was man enough to relish the moment.

  Then she wrapped her legs around him, arched her back in her own sudden thrust, and exploded in a yin rush that made her scream a joyous whoop of victory.

  * * *

  July 16, 1881

  To Wen Qui Xiu:

  I thank you for your warning. The demon Ken Jin did indeed appear on my doorstep. As you urged, I cast him off. However, as he departed, my heart was most heavy. He did not seem at all demonlike, but quite a normal, resourceful boy. Is it possible that the demon who possessed your son has fled for a better victim? Would you like me to watch this boy? If nothing else, I could learn more about his demonic ways. And if the demon has left, Would you not wish the return of your son?

  In hope.

  Tigress Tan Shi Po

  PS—I understand your husband is an acupuncturist. How fortunate for you! I wish my husband had such talent. Alas, we have spent our time in the study of plants. Though my skills are feeble, I do have a recipe to release the fog that clouds many elderly women's minds. Could you pass this on to your mother-in-law? It may help restore peace in your home. And please have her write me to tell if it is effective.

  To honored Grandmother Wen Ai Men, Tigress sister,

  I recently began using this recipe. The patient stays in my home so I can watch for any ailment or problems. So far, the tea has been most effective.

  Sincerely,

  Tigress Tan Shi Po

  (Attached, a recipe labeled: To Ease Your Mind. In truth, it is a common potion known to all tigresses for the strengthening growth of young dragons.)

  To treat Insomnia: Before retiring, take a leisurely walk, self-massage the body all over, and then massage the yung chuan acupoint, which is in the middle of the sole of the foot.

  Tong Sing, the Chinese Book of Wisdom,

  Dr. Charles Windridge

  Chapter 4

  Charlotte felt her legs go slack as the last of the ripples shivered through her. The sensation dissipated quickly, and if it weren't for Ken Jin's weight upon her, she would already be feeling chill. But he was here, and she found his presence a wonderful addition to the experience. "Now I know why Sophie says it's better with another person," she murmured as much to herself as to him.

  "Your yin peaked!" he said, obviously stunned. "But I wasn't trying to... Few Tigresses even..." He swallowed. "How is this possible? How can you have such responsive yin?"

  She blinked, trying to understand his words. She couldn't, of course, but she was feeling so lovely that she didn't really care. "Thank you, Ken Jin. But that wasn't what you were supposed to teach me, you know."

  He reared back, then scrambled off her. Once on his feet, he clearly had no idea what to do except gape. "You are supposed to be ignorant!" he accused.

  She pushed onto an elbow and frowned. "Is something the matter? This is what you expected to do this afternoon, isn't it? This is what you thought my 'lesson' would entail."

  He didn't answer. His gaze leapt from her face to her belly and then back again. His mouth was open; then it shut; then it fell open again. So Charlotte sat fully upright. She fussed with her clothing, not because it needed straightening, but because she needed something to do with her hands.

  "That was delightful, Ken Jin, truly. But..." She glanced up at his blanched face, then quickly down at her skirt. "It wasn't really what I came here to learn. As I was trying to say before, I want to understand about men's bodies. I already know all about mine."

  "You do?" he squeaked. Then he took a breath and spoke in a steadier tone. "You understand what just happened?"

  Charlotte sighed. "Do you truly believe that women in this city are so ignorant? That we know nothing of these things? I'm twenty-five years old!" She set her feet daintily upon the floor. "Think, Ken Jin. My father disappears for hours on end while my mother preaches ceaselessly about the horrors of physical pleasure. Yes, I know there are girls who know nothing of the body's pleasures, but my parents piqued my curiosity when I was still playing with dolls."

  "Your mother preaches against such things!"

  "My mother said that fun such as this was the devil's trap." She rolled her eyes. "All I heard was fun."

  "But how—"

  "My friend Stacy has a machine. One to prevent migraines."

  He stared, obviously not understanding.

  She shook her head, unwilling to give up her friend's secrets. "She taught me."

  He took a step forward, anger contorting his usually placid features. "What did she teach you?"

  Charlotte stared at him, annoyance beginning to sour her mood. "Why are you angry?"

  He blinked and abruptly stiffened his shoulders. "I am not angry!"

  Except, of course, he obviously was. Charlotte sighed. Men pursued their pleasures with single-minded abandon, and yet it never occurred to them that women could discover their own ways to enjoy life. How disappointing to find out that Ken Jin was just like other men.

  Charlotte abruptly pushed to her feet, her tone prim and authoritative. "Ken Jin, my actions are none of your affair."

  He stopped abruptly. So did she. And there they stood, on opposite sides, servant and master, English and Chinese. Except...

  "You wish to learn more," he said, his voice low and eerily calm. "I wish for a return of the sacred scrolls."

  She blinked. "They're sacred?"

  He nodded, but the movement was slow, as if he had not intended to reveal so much. Then he abruptly sat down, then gestured to the open space beside him on the bed. "Please, Miss Charlotte, will you sit and listen?"

  His manner was so different than from a moment before, she needed to adjust. Then they'd struggled across a great divide; now he seemed to want to be her friend. Or, if not her friend, her equal. The concept was so disorienting that she sat down merely because she could no longer stand. Just what was this Chinaman about?

  "Miss Charlotte," he began, "the scrolls you found describe a course
of study, a path to Heaven in a most unusual way."

  She felt her face and chest flush with embarrassment. "Only the Chinese would make sex a course of study." When he looked at her in confusion, she elaborated: "We English do not write such things down. We simply..." How to express her father's lecheries?

  "You simply rut," he supplied. She opened her mouth to object to the crude term, but he held up his hand to stop her. "You believe you understand your father's activities?"

  She looked away. "We English do not talk of those things either."

  "But you know of them."

  She nodded. Yes, of course she knew. Shanghai's gossip-mongers made sure of that. Indeed, her father's exploits were discussed among even the most sheltered of her friends.

  "What he does is rut," Ken Jin continued, his voice gentle despite his harsh words. "Like a beast in the field, he performs according to instinct without conscious thought, except to meet his most basic desire."

  Charlotte felt Ken Jin's fingers touch her chin. She felt the rough brush of his calluses, the cool press of his skin against hers as he drew her around to look at him.

  "What he does is not wrong. It is merely ignorant."

  "Mama believes it is wrong. She says that's why William is... isn't very bright. And that is why she prays so much." She bit her lip, stunned by what she had just admitted. Why would she tell that to a servant? And yet, who else would she talk to about it? Ken Jin was here. He'd lived in their home for the last ten years. He understood what went on in the family; he probably knew better than she did.

  His eyes held compassion as he spoke. "I do not understand your white gods."

  She shrugged, weary of the conversation. "I'm not sure anyone does."

  "That is in the nature of gods." His hand was still on her chin, but now he extended his thumb and drew it across her lips. Charlotte did not move. It was an unconscionable liberty, but she had already allowed a great deal more. Besides, she was too entranced by the tingling pleasure to stop him. How could her lips feel so full, so electrified, by a single caress?

  He too gasped, and his eyes widened as his thumb repeated its pass. He moved slowly, and she felt every texture of his thumb, even to the point of imagining how it would taste against her tongue. The tingling became a throb.

  "Do you feel that, Miss Charlotte?" His voice held a note of breathless awe. "Do you feel the fire of yin and yang in combustion?" He let his finger slip to the indentation between her lower lip and chin, and abruptly pinched her there. The single quick bite of pain caused the heat in her face to blossom into riotous sensation. She gasped, stunned by the accompanying shiver of warmth in her belly.

  Then, before she could speak, he licked his thumb before returning it to that very same location, rubbing in a wet circle. The slide of wet made her belly liquefy; the cold kiss of air made her face feel even more hot. And then he leaned forward, replacing his thumb with his lips.

  She should move away. She knew that. This was much too familiar from a servant. But nothing in her wanted to escape. In fact, she extended her chin to give him better access as his tongue swirled in another erotic circle. She shivered and her nipples tightened. And then he finished with a sucking kiss that seemed to draw her out of herself. As he pulled away, she wanted to follow, but she was too stunned to do more than utter a nearly silent whimper.

  "I have opened the gate for intimacy, Miss Charlotte. This attunes our spirits, one to another. Do you feel the difference in your body?" He spoke in Chinese, but she understood. And the foreign words made the experience all the more intense.

  "Yes," she managed. "Oh yes."

  "This is what I study." The cadence of his voice set a kind of rhythm in her blood. It made no sense that a single touch could do so much, and yet she felt aligned to him as had never happened before with anyone. Her heart even seemed to beat to the tempo of his words. "This is the pathway to what is beyond rutting," he continued. "It is what your father has not found and your mother does not understand."

  "I want to learn," she said. She had no idea how she formed the thought, much less managed the breath to speak, but her desire was unquestionable.

  "Your mother will damn you for it."

  Her eyes flew open, but the fire she felt did not dim. "No," she whispered, "she will damn you."

  She saw him blanch and he draw back. The loss was so devastating that she grabbed his arm.

  "Teach me anyway," she said. "Teach me, and I will protect you. She won't ever know." Her words were rash, possibly lies. There was little she could do if her mother thought a servant had debauched her daughter. But there were ways to avoid discovery.

  "Give me the scrolls, Miss Charlotte, and I will show you the first steps."

  She shook her head, not willing to compromise. "All of the steps."

  He smiled, but the expression seemed mocking. "Only the Enlightened know all the steps." A look of longing crossed his features briefly; then it was gone. His hand returned to her face, this time with more than his thumb. This time, he pressed two fingers to her lips. Then slowly, inexorably, he pushed them inside her mouth. At last, she could taste his fingers. She could feel the texture of callus and nail against her tongue. She could purse her lips and suck him deeper inside.

  "Give me the scrolls, Miss Charlotte, and I will show you the path."

  He was wiggling his fingers, spreading them wide against her teeth and the roof of her mouth. His movements touched off sparks in the strangest places—the base of her teeth, the underside of her tongue, even the back of her throat though he'd only penetrated to his first knuckle.

  She slid her hand up his forearm to his wrist and abruptly pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth. She had no understanding of her actions, only that she wanted to taste more of him. It was disconcerting to feel touched in places that he couldn't possibly reach. If he could do this with just his fingers, how much more wonderful it would be with his whole penis in her mouth? The thought was thrilling beyond belief.

  "Give me the scrolls, Miss Charlotte."

  She couldn't focus on his words. She wanted to understand how she could tingle in places he hadn't stroked, how there could be heat and power pulsing in the back of her throat. And how that erotic pulse could continue all the way down her body deep into her womb.

  He withdrew abruptly, leaving her open and empty. "Give me the scrolls, Miss Charlotte."

  She swallowed. It took an act of will, so completely had he tied her to his power. "Or what?" she finally rasped.

  "Or I will teach you nothing more."

  She struggled to gather her thoughts. "I don't need you. The scrolls will teach me everything," she hedged.

  He looked unimpressed. "One or two scrolls that start in the middle? You are not so foolish as to believe that paper can show better than a teacher."

  No, it couldn't. She'd already looked at the pictures, even tried to decipher the Chinese characters, but nothing had imparted the tiniest clue about what she had just experienced.

  "If I give you the scrolls, you won't teach me anything. It's too dangerous for you. If my mother finds out..."

  His hands were in his lap, folded neatly. She stared at them, wondering at the power he possessed. Could he affect her from there? Could he touch her from across the room? How far did his abilities reach? She lifted her gaze to his eyes, only now noticing the sweat beading his upper lip. A quick glance showed that his male organ was large beneath his trousers. He was not unaffected by what he'd done. Perhaps he wanted to teach as much as she wanted to learn.

  "Teach me first," she offered. "I'll give you the scrolls afterward." That would give her time to have the text copied and translated.

  He waited a moment, looking at her with a steady, flat regard. She might have worried, so cold was his expression, except right beneath his hands she saw his sex twitch. He was quite large; she remembered from her unexpected view this morning. The demands of his organ must be equally huge. He would teach her, she realized with a sudden rush. His org
an would demand it.

  As expected, he sighed and pushed to his feet. He moved slowly, and she guessed he was protecting himself from accidental jostling. She had learned from caring for her brother that a thickened male organ could be quite sensitive. Indeed, she had learned quite a lot when poor William had hit puberty. He had stimulated himself in the most inappropriate places and times. Rather than slap his hands, their mother had slapped his organ as a form of discipline. Charlotte surmised that Ken Jin was trying to avoid a similarly painful fate.

  "We can begin tomorrow," she offered as sweetly as she could manage. "When you are feeling more the thing."

  She avoided a gloating smile as he bowed before her. But a moment later, she felt a wash of sadness. He had returned to his place as servant, offering her respect without emotion. Her victory felt hollow.

  He straightened and walked to the door. "I regret that we could not come to an understanding, Miss Charlotte. Please allow me to return to my work. Your father will wish to check my progress when he returns."

  Charlotte blinked, confused. She had won, hadn't she? She stood up and headed slowly for the door. "So, I shall come back here tomorrow afternoon? We will begin then?"

  He shook his head. "No, Miss Charlotte. I regret to inform you that I cannot do as you request."

  "But I don't understand. Surely you aren't going to just stop... I mean, naturally you wish to continue at another time. Don't you?" Her last words were high-pitched, squeaked as if by a little girl. Appalling, really, since she was no child.

  "No, Miss Charlotte, I do not." Again he gave a deep bow. "Good day."

  And a moment later, she found herself on the opposite side of his closed door.

  * * *

  Ken Jin stood facing the shut door. His legs were spread, his hands planted firmly on his hips, and his dragon was as hard as a Shantung maple. All in all, an excellent day. So why was he clenching his jaw as if he were about to chew ginger?

  He turned to his desk, refocusing his thoughts on work. He had ledger entries to record, bills of lading to reconcile with ship accounts, and hours of letters to write for Mr. Wicks's signature. Nothing was urgent, but all was important. And with nothing else to occupy his time, he knew he would be at his desk well into the night.