The Soldier's Lotus

by Adonis Devereux

  Saerileth stopped still. Her breathing was scarcely labored from her exertions, but the realization that she considered Kamen an enemy was a shock.

  “Abrexa’s chain.” Saerileth breathed the curse and went to sit on the soft bed that Darien had insisted she have. How could this have happened to her? She was a full-blown Red Lotus. She had trained without ceasing every day since she was five years old. She had inhaled the doctrines of the Lotuses with every breath. How could she now have failed in their most basic tenet? For if Kamen were her enemy, then she must be jealous. That knowledge stung. She was jealous? How could a Lotus be jealous? But she was. Though Kamen was beautiful, though he was a skillful lover, she had not been able to climax for him. She did not mind anything that Kamen had done with her. He was more enjoyable than most of her lovers had been, and he was the sort of man any Lotus would be pleased to have as a client or even a purchaser. But what Kamen had done with Darien disturbed her.

  Why should that be? Why should any lover of Darien’s disturb her? She was a Red Lotus, and her sole purpose was to please her client. If Kamen pleased Darien, should that not be accounted success? But she hated the thought of Kamen pleasing Darien. She did not want anyone to please Darien apart from herself. That could mean but one thing.

  She, Saerileth Kesandrahn, Red Lotus, had fallen in love.

  This was insupportable. No Lotus was permitted to fall in love. Love clouded the judgment, making pleasing the client possibly more difficult. A Lotus must never lose control, but to love was to give the beloved power over oneself. How could anyone hold power over her? If Darien had power over her, how could she depend on her Lotus training to succeed in helping him with his social prospects? If Darien had power over her, how could she achieve the one death that mattered so much to her?

  She could not.

  Saerileth covered her face with her hands. She could not stay here. She would leave, run from Darien. Once free, she would hide in the city, finding some other means of rooting out the originator of the massacre of her clan. Her resolution made, Saerileth lay back on the bed. It was too early in the evening to think of leaving. Too many servants still moved about the house preparing for the next day’s feast. She would have to wait until the middle of the night. She ought to sleep before fleeing. She would need the energy.

  ****

  Saerileth trembled in the closet. Her nurse was beside her, and the sounds of the battle outside held them both with chains of terror as strong as any steel ones. Then the closet door was wrenched open, and Saerileth saw the warrior-savior of her childhood, Darien himself, but he was not looking at her. Instead, Kamen tugged on his hand, and Darien turned away, leaving her to be murdered.

  Saerileth sat up, trembling and soaked with sweat. The sheets she lay on were wet, and she was more exhausted than when she had lain down. This was unbearable.

  She glanced out the window, which overlooked the garden, and there the moonslight told her that the night was, though not so far advanced as she hoped, dark enough to cover her escape. She surveyed the room briefly, deciding if she ought to take anything with her, but the knowledge that anything she took would remind her of Darien and her weakness made her resolve to take nothing at all. She dressed herself in the pallav and skirt she had worn when Darien’s crew had pulled her from the sea. Though she had no shirt to go with it any longer, she was able to cover her breasts with a fold of the pallav. She took only the herbs she had brought with her.

  Silently, she crept from the room and through the wide hallways. Her goal was the roof. From there she could climb down the front wall of the house and be in the street straight away. To go over the garden wall would put her in an open space that led to the sea, and Saerileth had had more than enough of the sea and of sailors.

  She passed by Darien’s bedchamber, and her feet stopped by his door of their own volition. No sounds issued forth, not even breathing. Saerileth closed her eyes. Kamen had gone home not long after their coupling, and she dreaded that Darien might have gone after him. That very dread, however, only hardened her resolve. She could not live in such a state, not while Darien held such power over her. To love a man – and that man one whose heart was given elsewhere? Had any Lotus ever known such shame?

  Saerileth did not hesitate longer. She ran, still silent, to the flat roof. Once there, she started to the edge that overlooked the street, but she stopped. There, standing in the center of the roof, bathed in the blue-red moonslight, stood Darien himself, obviously up to cool himself in the night breezes. He was clad in the same thin, white linen skirt as before, and the darkness of his skin showed up all the more beautifully for the contrast. Her breath caught in her chest at his perfect, rugged beauty. She had never wanted anything so much in her life, not even the most precious death of her vengeance, as she wanted Darien. She inhaled slowly. Her breath refused to even out, and her heart rate refused to slow. But she ignored her own discomposure.

  With three strides and one quick flip, she was behind him, and her hands moved automatically in the five quick jabs that made up the Katipo Form. Darien would temporarily be as helpless, as paralyzed, as if a katipo spider had bitten him.

  “Good-bye, Darien,” she whispered and darted toward the roof’s edge.

  But Darien’s large, rough hand closed around her upper arm, and he jerked her back to face him. “What do you think you’re doing, Saerileth?”

  She stared at him. “That’s impossible! How can you move? I struck your fifth nerve cluster! You shouldn’t be able even to speak.”

  “You mean this spot?” Darien did not release his hold on her, but with his free hand he tapped the place on his back where she had struck him. “I can’t feel a gods-damn thing there, not since I was flogged years ago. They lost a hook in my back.”

  Saerileth was shaking. Darien’s voice was raw, and he spoke through clenched teeth. He was absolutely glorious, and at that moment she ceased to feel shame for having fallen in love with him. When the Lotus code was devised, they had not known about Darien. He was beyond codes.

  “So I ask again, Lotus. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Leaving.” Saerileth could not force out any further words, and she hated the weakness in herself.

  “Abrexa’s cunt!” Darien still did not let go of her, but he was not looking at her any longer, either. His eyes were fixed on the street. “If you want to go, go. If you wait until the morning, I will have a writ of freedom drawn up for you. Fucking concubinage!”

  “What?” Saerileth felt like a fool, unable to speak more than one word at a time.

  “If you weren’t my fucking concubine, I’d not let you go.” Darien’s voice dropped even lower, until it was more growl than speech. “It’s not fair to keep you here because you can’t leave! But if you weren’t my concubine, I’d throttle Kamen before I let him have you!”

  “Throttle?” Saerileth’s mouth was dry.

  “Yes, throttle! Or gut him maybe!” Darien grabbed her other arm in his free hand and half-lifted her from her feet to press his lips against hers. “I love you, Saerileth, but you know that. And since I can’t keep you—” He broke off and released her, almost dropping her.

  Saerileth shook once from head to foot. Darien was letting her go, not because he loved Kamen, but because he thought she wanted Kamen, and he did not want to keep her by force. Her breath fled from her altogether. The city lay before her; her vengeance was out there somewhere. She could leave Darien behind, leave his power over her—

  And then her breath returned in a rush. She could not leave his power over her. She loved him, and she would go on loving him even if she were not with him. And he loved her. He loved her!

  “Darien,” she said at last, laying her hand on his arm. The darkness of his skin in contrast to her own pallor pleased her so much that for a moment she said no more.

  “What, Saerileth?” Darien was looking at her again, and his dark eyes burned.

  “I do not deny that Kamen is a lovely man.” She
could not look at Darien’s face, and she looked down, addressing his chest instead. “He is a fine lover and one most any Lotus could want – but not I.”

  “Don’t play with me, Lotus.” Darien grabbed hold of her once more. “If you are going to stay, to be my concubine, then I will not ever let Kamen touch you again.”

  “I don’t want Kamen.” Saerileth leaned against Darien’s chest, nestling against the water-serpent tattoo. “I want you.” Her confession of love trembled unspoken on her lips.

  “But—” Darien’s voice held a scarcely-bridled passion that caused Saerileth to flood with anticipation.

  “I love you, Darien.”

  “Saerileth.” The word was spoken so low that only her Lotus training enabled Saerileth to catch it. Then he was devouring her lips as his hands roved over her body. He tore her pallav from her, and she did not care where it landed. Her skirt, too, he ripped, and the very violence of the motion sent fresh dampness to Saerileth’s pussy.

  “My concubine then?” Darien paused in his kisses long enough to murmur the words.

  “Always.”

  Darien’s roar of triumph was accompanied by the sudden thrust of his long, hard cock into her aching pussy. But then, as he always did, Darien slowed. He was holding her up, but he did not allow her full weight to rest against his pelvis. He kept her partially supported by his hands.

  Saerileth wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper inside her.

  “You’re mine, and I don’t break what’s mine.” Darien lowered her onto her back, using her pallav as a cushion on the smooth stone of the roof.

  “I won’t break.” Saerileth locked her hands behind Darien’s neck. She understood him; she knew what he wanted. And she knew, too, why he had never been able to have it before.

  “But I’m too big.” Darien thrust forward slightly as if to make his point. “All my concubines have said it hurts when I enter them.”

  “And they’re right.” Saerileth kissed Darien’s lips, slipping her tongue between them. “Your cock is huge.” She smiled up at him, and his massive form over hers was like a wall crushing down on her. She loved the feeling, and she only wanted to explain to him her desire for him to play more roughly with her. “You rip me apart each time you thrust; you bruise my cervix even.”

  Darien paused, stopping still.

  “And I love it!” Saerileth kissed him again. “I have never had such pleasure as you give me.”

  Understanding dawned in Darien’s black eyes, and the sight sent the cream pouring out of her.

  “You mean you like it when it hurts?”

  “Yes!” Saerileth leaned forward, and Darien understood her desire. He lay flat on his back, allowing her to ride him. She slid up and down on his cock, but she never let him fully inside her, instead riding only the top half of his enormous phallus. “I never realized it before, Darien, because no one would have dreamed of hurting me, but my pleasure is trebled when it is laced with pain.”

  “But I might injure you.” Darien still hesitated.

  “No.” Saerileth did not pause in her movements, tantalizing Darien by remaining only on the top half of his cock. “Your girth is wonderfully painful, but it cannot damage my cunny.” She saw by the gleam in his eye that he understood that vaginae were made to expand. “And as for the length, I have herbal oils that will soothe the bruises away.”

  Darien’s inarticulate growl was accompanied by a sudden grasp of her shoulders, and he pulled her down with all his incredible strength, ramming her onto his cock.

  The delight and the hurt of the motion were so perfectly commingled that Saerileth exploded. Her cum dripped down Darien’s balls and onto his thighs.

  “You were right.” Darien clearly no longer doubted her assurances that she wanted to play as roughly as even he could. He flipped her over onto her back, and he bent her legs back until her knees were at her ears. Over and over he pounded into her, and the jolting of her body was pure joy. Each time he pulled out of her, the relief was exquisite, only surpassed by the perfection of his forward thrusts, sending darts of agonizing pleasure throughout her entire body.

  Darien leaned forward, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

  She arched upward into his suckling, and when he bit down on her, she cried out in her climax.

  “Darien!” She screamed his name over and over until she was hoarse.

  And still he rode her, his cock becoming the focus of her existence. His hands moved to her sides, grasping her ribs, and he moved her body as he moved his own. She shuddered afresh. He was thrusting forward with as much strength as he was using to pull her back, thereby doubling the pressure. Sobs of ecstasy shook her frame, and she could hardly breathe.

  Then she realized that, if Darien kept up the pressure on her ribs, he would break them without even realizing it. She could not let him do that, for it would make him too careful of her in the future. She reached up for his neck, and she pressed down as hard as she could. His hands momentarily lost their grip, and he laughed at her.

  “Too rough for my Lotus?”

  She shook her head, for his grasp had altered to a different angle, and her ribs were no longer threatened. “Take me as hard as you want!”

  Darien’s clasp would, she knew, leave bruises, and the very thought made her cream. They were like a mark of his love in her flesh. She knew that some men beat their women, but that was not her Darien’s way. No, from him these bruises were the signs of their love-play, and she would wear them proudly.

  Then suddenly her world shattered into a blank whiteness as Darien filled her with his seed. She was not sure, but she thought she might have lost consciousness for a few moments; for when she could see again, she was lying in the crook of Darien’s arm, and he was whispering words of love in her ear.

  She kissed him.

  “So, my little Lotus, if you did not want Kamen, why then did you come to join us? You saved my gaffe, true, but Kamen is my friend. It would not have mattered much, and you know it.” He traced her cheek with one finger.

  Saerileth smiled. Darien’s love was more precious to her even than the one death she sought, dearer to her even than her honor and her vengeance. She cradled his face in her hands, and the sheer overwhelming size of him drew another kiss from her before she could speak. “I did not want him to be alone with you,” she said, and no shame touched her in the admission. Darien loved her. This would please him, so it did not matter if no self-respecting Lotus would do this.

  “You didn’t want him to be alone with me?” Darien rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. “Why not?”

  “Because he is beautiful.” Saerileth looked down into Darien’s eyes. “And you and he have obviously been together often—”

  Darien did not allow her to finish. “He’s never to touch you again, Saerileth. Do you hear me? I’m sorry I let him anywhere near you.”

  Saerileth laughed lightly. “I didn’t mind what he did to me.”

  “Yes, you did.” Darien traced her lip with his thumb. “I saw how you went still at the end, how you took no pleasure from what we did.”

  “Yes, how I took no pleasure when you left me to fuck him.” Saerileth turned her face to kiss his palm. “And you finished in Kamen, not in me. How could I have any pleasure then?”

  Darien crushed her against his chest. “Abrexa chain me! You were jealous of me?”

  Saerileth felt her cheeks burning with an unfamiliar blush. No Lotus ever blushed, at least not without meaning to. “Yes.” The word was a whisper. She closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment, but soon it vanished. She was, she freely admitted to herself, the world’s worst Lotus when she was near Darien, but that was inevitable. He had been, though nameless, her childhood hero and savior, and as she had grown into a woman, her memory of him had drawn her desire. Then to have met him by chance after becoming a woman, and to owe to him her life a second time – how was any woman to resist? And even apart from what she owed him, he was Dari
en. Darien, the pinnacle of manly perfection. Darien, the massive beauty who had shown her more pleasure than she thought possible. Darien, the man who loved her. Darien, the man she loved.

  “Well, my Lotus, you needn’t worry about Kamen and me!” Darien laughed, interrupting Saerileth’s meditation on his own loveliness. “I’ve never thought of him that way. I don’t actually like to have sex with men. I can do it because it’s a custom, and I’ve had experience doing it. Common quarters is a required practice in the Sunjaa military.”

  Saerileth smiled and surrendered, perforce, to Darien’s possessive kiss, but she knew perfectly well that Kamen did think of Darien that way. Kamen was in love with Darien, and she did not doubt that he would try again to steal Darien from her.

  That, she resolved, should never happen.

  Chapter Six

  Darien’s hired staff filled the wide entryway of his house. The men wore simple, linen skirts, and the women were clad in dresses of the same material. They all stood with their hands folded before them, and they cast their gazes to the floor. Beside them were reed baskets full of fresh flowers and flower petals. The servants behaved just as Saerileth had instructed them to: they were quiet and attentive, ready to serve. The musicians strummed their lyres, plucked their lutes, and played their harps in another room, and Darien could hear the music flowing through his house like perfume. The master of the house looked down at himself and pressed his hands down upon the wide gold and onyx necklace that rested on his shoulders. His belt matched the colors of his jewelry. Saerileth stood beside him, and she looked exquisite, more beautiful than Darien had yet seen her. She wore a crimson dress of Zenji fashion, and her pallav was red and black. Her long black hair was twisted into a crown of braids that left her neck exposed, and stray locks had been styled to purposely fall past her ear and across her cheek. She was to Darien a queen, the most beautiful thing to ever grace the world of Gilalion with her presence, and Darien accounted himself the luckiest Sunjaa to have ever lived. He wanted to kiss her just then, but he did not dare. He was afraid of smudging her make-up or smearing her lipstick. When she returned his adoring gaze, Darien wished the party were already done, though it had not yet begun.