by Ines Johnson
"Is everything all right, my lord?"
Khial thought to ask the monk the same question. Gone were his ceremonial robes of green and brown. He stood before Khial dressed in a plain cloth shirt and slacks, a back sack slung over his shoulder. The monk's broad shoulders filled out the shirt nicely and his muscled thighs rounded out the pants. Still, the clothing felt wrong in Khial's eyes. He'd seen the man entirely naked before. The splendor of his body should not be hidden under ordinary cloth.
"What are you doing here?" Khial asked.
"I was just... walking." He gazed up at the house, to the second floor. Exactly where Chanyn's bedroom sat. "Is she all right?"
"She's... She's well." Khial looked away before the monk could read the entire story of his failure in his eyes.
But then he changed his mind. "I need your help," Khial said. "With Lady Chanyn."
The monk waited. His expression, the picture of patience and non-judgment, gave nothing of his thoughts away.
Khial's lips worked soundlessly for a moment, trying to figure out the right words to explain his predicament. "I don't know what I'm doing."
The monk nodded.
"I think I may have hurt her." Khial expected to see anger on the face of the man who loved his wife. Instead, he saw expectancy, as though the monk had been waiting outside to have this very conversation.
"The first time with a woman can be a heady experience for a man. The first few times, in fact. Women are not like men. You need to make them ready."
Khial remembered the monk's instruction with Dain. That Chanyn needed to be touched before he entered her body.
"You have to take your time. Go slowly and be gentle. Their bodies cannot take the same pounding that a man's can. At least, not when they are still new to the act."
Khial also remembered that when Dain entered Chanyn's body that first time, he had been in a hurry as well. He'd gone fast and hard. And she hadn't enjoyed it.
The monk put a hand on Khial's shoulder. "Lady Chanyn is very responsive. Her body will tell you what it needs if you look and listen. If you're still unsure, simply ask her. She's very forthcoming."
The monk gazed up at the window, a secret smile slowly spread across his face. Khial felt the monk's thumb run absently over his collar bone. Back and forth, in a hypnotic motion. Thinking about Chanyn, no doubt.
"Why don't you train me?"
The monk snapped to attention, yanking his hand away as though Khial's suggestion burned him. He took a step back, shaking his head. And then he put up his hands as though to further ward off the suggestion.
"I'll pay you."
"I don't need the money." The monk hitched his pack over his shoulder.
"You love her." Khial didn't put a question mark at the end of the statement. He knew it to be true. If he hadn't seen it in the monk's eyes, seen it in the kisses and caresses he gave Chanyn, he saw it the night before when the monk risked his own life to get Khial back to her. He saw it now, when the monk walked the city at night to gaze up at her window.
But the monk turned away from the idea.
"You love her," Khial repeated. "I don't know how to make her happy, and I want to. I don't want to hurt her. She's been through enough. We've all been through enough. We deserve a little happiness, some pleasure after the rough path of our lives. You said I could choose who I become. I choose to become a good husband to her. Teach me how to please her."
Khial knew the monk would say yes. He saw it in the give of his shoulders. He saw it as the man's head tilted up to the sky. He saw it as the monk turned weary eyes to face him.
Chapter Seven
Chanyn woke up in the morning and began her morning ritual. She went first to the bathroom and kneeled to the porcelain goddess. Praise the Goddess, this morning her stomach decided it would keep her dinner from the previous night.
Chanyn stood and did an about face to relieve herself. She winced at the soreness between her legs. Lifting her nightdress she saw a bit of redness high up on her thighs. She sighed.
Instead of chasing after Khial last night, she'd run a bath and soaked, as Jian taught her. She hadn’t needed the baths after Jian's lovemaking. The warm water and herbs helped after her tryst with Khial. The ache quieted to a dull throb. When she stood now, she barely noticed it. She wished she could run a bath strong enough to soothe Khial. She'd have to find him first. He said he wouldn't run. Part of the reason she opted for the bath last night instead of chasing after him was to learn if that promise had been the truth.
Chanyn dressed quickly. Brent and Tem were disappointed that she insisted on dressing herself, though she did allow them to shop for her and to do her hair every few days.
Chanyn made her way out of her room and down the hall. When she got to Dain's old bedroom, she knocked and waited. When there was no answer, she knocked once more and held her breath.
"He's not there."
Chanyn's heart pounded into her ears at the sound of that voice. She didn't turn around immediately. Instead, she rested her head against the bedroom door.
"He hasn't left you," the voice came closer. "He said he had an errand to run and that he'd be back shortly. Chanyn?"
A firm hand rested briefly at the small of her back before moving away quickly.
Chanyn turned slowly, and there he was. The sun shining behind him from the hall window. His bald head gleaming. His slanted eyes hooded as they gazed down at her. His lips parted in that hungry way of his.
They'd moved closer together. She, away from the door and closer to him. Him, away from the hall window and closer to her. Like magnets.
"What are you doing here?"
"I ran into Lord Khial last night."
"He came to the temple?"
Jian hesitated. "No..."
"No?"
His lips pursed. "I came here."
"Why?"
Jian sighed through his nose, his teeth grit. Then his mouth relaxed in defeat. His lips parted.
"You," he said. His hand raised and grazed her cheek. "I was walking and my feet lead me to you. I supposed I sensed you needed me, and so I came." His shrug looked like surrender. "I will always come when you call. Whether your voice or your spirit, I'll hear it and I'll be at your door."
"I don't understand? You took your vows."
"I did."
They stood without a breath between them. His legs mingling with hers. One of his hands resting at the nape of her neck, the other at the small of her back pulling her body closer.
"Lord Khial told me about last night."
Chanyn's face heated. She tried to turn away, but there was nowhere to hide.
"He asked for my help."
Chanyn turned back to Jian, wetting her lips. "You're going to help?"
His mouth ticked up in that seductive grin. "Do you want my help, my lady?"
Chanyn couldn't form words. She only nodded.
"Then, I am at your service."
"But your vow—"
"My vows do not overrule the needs of my heart." He placed his hand over her chest.
A small voice told her to take heed. There was no guarantee to the length of time he'd be here before he left again. But now, just like every other time, she couldn't stay away from him if she tried.
Chanyn reached up to pull him down. When he met her lips, there was no preamble. No sipping or tentative brushes. They delved into each other, getting lost, finding one another. It was a homecoming.
"Ahem."
Only one person would interrupt them on this floor. Chanyn slowly disentangled herself from the man she loved to face the man she'd married.
Khial walked slowly towards them, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a beautifully wrapped package. Watching his powerful legs move in the light cloth of his slacks, Chanyn had trouble recalling the pain of his thrusts. She met his eyes and saw them flare. Jian released his hold on her neck.
Jian's face was impassive but she saw the telltale sign of guilt on his lowered br
ow. She was sure Khial saw the heat rising off her face and chest. He gave them both an awkward smile. It might have been his normal smile. Chanyn still wasn't used to anything but a scowl when he looked at her.
"Good morning," Khial said.
Jian and Chanyn murmured felicitations back to him.
"How are you feeling this morning, my lady?"
Chanyn heard the weight in the question. How badly did I hurt you? Do you hate me? Will you never let me touch you again?
She stepped toward him. "Khi, I'm fine.
He caught her hands before she could touch him, searching for the lie in those words. Finding none, he swallowed what appeared to be a huge lump caught in his throat. He loosened his grip and stepped into her. His one arm held her stiffly, but his chest felt warm, hopeful, safe.
He stepped back abruptly. "I thought we could try again. Later. With some help." He stretched his hand out to indicate Jian.
Chanyn nodded. "I'd like that."
Khial looked so alone and bereft. Much like she felt weeks ago when he and Dain found her. Her greatest desire had been to be welcomed into their bond. Khial had been hesitant with her. She didn't feel the same hesitancy with him. She wanted to share her heart with him.
Khial handed her the package. "I brought this for you."
From the weight and shape of the package, Chanyn could tell it was a book. No. A stack of books.
"They were my mother's. I have some of her things in storage. Things the Sisterhood found of no value. I thought you would like them."
Chanyn unwrapped the package to find a stack of thin Harlequin romance novels from the twentieth century.
"I used to think books like these were dangerous. That they caused women to pit men against each other. I realize it’s not the book, it’s the person. People choose how they receive information and what they do with that information. I trust you."
Chanyn knew that those last words were high praise from this man. "Thank you Khial. I will treasure these."
He shrugged, but she saw the relief and pride in his light eyes. Relief that she liked his gift and understood his gesture. Pride that he'd made a good decision and taken a step in the right direction.
"Anyway, I'll see you tonight." He wouldn't quite meet her eyes. He took a step around her, but Chanyn stayed him with her hand. She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. She felt his inhale of surprise. Then, as she stayed still a moment longer pressed against his lips, she felt him exhale and relax into her.
When she pulled away, he gave her the smallest of smiles, but it was a genuine smile, straight from the wounded organ that was his heart. His hand snaked around his head and scratched at the nape of his neck. He nodded once to her, then behind her to Jian, and walked into his bedroom shutting the door behind him.
Chanyn turned to Jian, who grinned at the closed door.
"Jian?"
He gave her his full attention.
"How long are you here this time?"
"For as long as you need me."
Chapter Eight
"Maternal Goddess, I seek your presence as I align myself with one of your sacred daughters.
I offer my body as a vessel of your will and your grace.
The desire of my heart is pure and known to you.
I wish to please your daughter and garner your favor.
The miracle that pleases a woman and creates life is of your design, Divine Goddess.
With great anticipation, I align all of the energy systems of my body, my soul, and my mind with you.
I give thanks in advance for your blessings of this experience and know that I walk in the light of your sun and the fertility of your earth.
Ashe."
The monk's melodic voice decresendoed. Again, Khial wondered how that deep tenor might sound accompanying his violin.
Jian asked for stillness. He and Chanyn closed their eyes in a silent moment of gratitude to the Goddess.
Khial picked at the buttons of his shirt, the itch on his nose. He looked around Chanyn's bedroom. Large blooms decorated a dresser near the window, beside them teetered the stack of books he’d gifted her. Golden-haired men clenching women with swollen bodices dominated each cover. Khial scratched at his chest.
The monk clasped Khial's hand. Khial's dick pulsed in time to the circular pattern the monk traced on the flesh between Khial's thumb and index finger. Was the monk trying to seduce him? Khial looked for a hint in the monk's eyes, but they remained closed.
Between them, both men held Chanyn's hands in each of their own. Her hands were by no means delicate. They were capable and strong. She interlaced two of her fingers with Khial's, leaving him feeling grounded, tethered. And aroused.
Khial tried to take his mind off his dick and focus on the two people on either side of him. Their fingers were wholly entwined. Their palms pressed together. Suddenly, Khial felt like an intruder. Chanyn and the monk loved each other and he was imposing on their intimacy.
The monk opened his eyes and focused on Khial. The monk—Jian. Khial figured he should start using his name, as they were about to be intimate. Jian's eyes said he read Khial's desire loud and clear, but he cast no judgment. Instead, a flicker of heat sparked in the other man's eyes.
Khial swallowed. It was too soon to think about another man. He was still getting used to the idea of a woman, his wife. He looked over at Chanyn.
"Should you always pray... before?" Khial directed the comment at no one in particular, but he knew who would answer.
"A woman's body is sacred," answered Jian. "If you do not prefer to pray, you should at least set an intention."
"An intention?"
Jian nodded. "Our intention tonight is to pleasure the lady." Jian turned to Chanyn. "Pleasure her until she begs for mercy."
A slow, intentional smile spread across the monk’s face. He rose to his feet bringing Khial and Chanyn along.
Jian stood behind Chanyn and turned her to face Khial. She'd dressed in a simple nightgown of light purple silk. Lace ties held the flimsy garment together. Her dark nipples poked against the material.
"Undo the laces, my lord."
Khial's hands shook like the strings of his instrument. Not from nervousness—not entirely. Khial trusted Jian to make this experience pleasurable, not only for Chanyn, but for all. Khial's fingers trembled in anticipation as he lifted them to the first tie.
Chanyn smiled in encouragement as she watched Khial's progress. I trust you, that smile said. Khial felt his heart expand a fraction.
Jian also marked his progress with the ties. His dark eyes portraying the same trust. Khial was not one to trust easily. He could count on one finger the number of people he'd trusted. The idea that he trusted these two people, whom he'd known for such a short time, astounded him. The hard fact that he did trust them both steadied his fingers, and Khial pulled the last tie free.
Jian swept the garment from Chanyn's shoulders. Khial's fingers, his legs, his dick, lost the battle of steadiness. He began to throb from his eyelashes to the space between his toes. Chanyn stood completely bare before him.
Her brown breasts full, her erect nipples pebbled, so dark they appeared black. Her waist narrowed into a sculpted stomach with curves and planes. Her hips flared out to powerful thighs. A dark set of curls lay at the juncture between her thighs.
Khial's mouth watered. He'd dreamed of that space last night. Of diving in there once more. Of getting lost in the bliss of that warm heat. Of their own accord, his hands reached out, but Jian pulled her away.
Khial glared. Jian only smiled that serene smile of his station. Khial's blood heated. Was this a trick? He'd seen his fathers fighting over time in the bedroom with his mother. Her door locked while one of them banged at the exterior for entrance. Would this come to a fight?
Jian didn't look adversarial. "We need to prepare her," he said.
He guided Chanyn towards the bed. When she turned, Khial caught a glimpse of the orbs of her ass. His dick, already hard as a
rock, strained painfully against his pants. Khial took a step to follow, but Jian's hand stayed him once more. Khial’s glare threatened murder.
The monk, placid as ever, said, "Breathe."
Khial clenched his teeth.
Jian released Chanyn and brought both hands to Khial's shoulders. Khial's instinct was to shove him off. Jian's thumbs rubbed circles at a point on Khial's shoulders and, like magic, the aggression seeped out of Khial.
"I need you to be present, my lord," Jian said quietly, for Khial's ears only. "I need you to have a clear head. We are going to please her first."
The emphasis on her snapped the fog from Khial's mind. A front of shame moved in. He’d gone to Jian for help in making the act pleasurable for Chanyn. In the first minute, he'd let his Neanderthal instincts overpower him.
Jian tilted Khial's head up so that they looked each other in the eye. Khial wondered how this man could allow him access to the woman he so clearly worshipped. But the woman the monk worshipped was Khial's wife, now. Khial allowed Jian access to her. Once more, Khial felt Jian read his mind because what he saw reflected in the monk's dark eyes was gratitude.
Khial leaned into Jian's touch, grateful for the support. He wanted to rest in Jian's embrace for a moment longer, but Jian gave his shoulders a final squeeze and then he turned them both towards Chanyn. She lay on the bed like an offering.
Khial came before the bed and kneeled. Jian went to the other side.
Jian ran his hand over Chanyn's face. It was a move Dain had done to Khial countless times. It signified love and trust. Chanyn closed her eyes, her entire body going to another level of relaxation.
"With men, we need very little preparation other than a wink and a nod," Jian said, a smile in his voice. He nodded at Khial to mimic his motions on Chanyn's body. Khial slowly raised his hands. They shook once more as they hovered over Chanyn.
"Women's bodies are different," Jian continued his lesson. "That tremble in their bodies means that they are mentally open to intimacy. It takes a moment for their pleasure centers to awaken."
