“You will disrobe,” Salime commanded.
Diana stared at her in incomprehension.
“Disrobe,” she repeated. “How else can I teach you anything? Or do you wish me to call in a servant of this house to demonstrate? Of course we must come to that soon, but it will not be without cost. Madam will expect payment.”
“You wish to demonstrate on me? Is there no other way?” she asked. While Diana was accustomed to being dressed and bathed by a maid, she was loath to expose herself to this worldly woman.
“No, Khanum. How can you understand that which you do not know? You must see and feel it to fully comprehend the power over both the mind and the body that lies in skilled hands.”
“I will require assistance,” Diana said, choking down her qualms. “I cannot manage my laces and stays.”
Salime made an impatient sound and spun Diana around, making swift work of both garments. While Diana shrugged out of her gown and stays, Salime retrieved a glass bottle and a large cloth. “It is almond oil,” she answered Diana’s questioning look. “Most soothing to the body, but it must be heated in a bucket of warm water. Your shift,” she commanded, “remove it.” She indicated the divan. “Lie there. On your stomach.”
Diana proceeded to do as she was bid, feeling strangely unnerved. Salime, however, moved efficiently and impersonally, positioning her body with her head resting on a pillow and her arms down by her side. “You will close your eyes and breathe deeply,” she directed. “You must concentrate only on the feel of my hands, what they do when they touch your body. You will memorize this, Khanum, for I do this for you only once.”
Diana felt the first strokes of warmed, oiled hands on her lower legs, ankles, and feet. The feel of a closed fist on her soles sent a ripple all the way to her belly. The kneading of her lower muscles seemed to work inwardly to penetrate her insides and fill her lower body with a wonderful languor. The sensation moved upward, and her body continued to relax and grow heavy, giving itself up fully to the magical ministrations of Salime’s expert hands.
“You see, Khanum?” Salime kneaded and molded Diana’s back and shoulders. “The massage brings mind and body to a state of unity and peace.”
Diana almost moaned her agreement. “I do see. One could so easily put another to sleep in this way.”
“Most effectively...if that is the goal.”
“And if arousal is the object?” Diana asked over her shoulder.
“Then the massage must quickly focus on the areas to be aroused,” Salime answered, moving to Diana’s buttocks. “This is a most sensitive place to begin such attentions, especially in the man, Khanum. There are hidden areas of heightened sensation to be explored—”
Diana abruptly sat up. “It is too much. I am uncomfortable with this.”
“As you wish.” Salime stepped away with a shrug. “You may go now.”
“Go?”
“Yes. There is no purpose in remaining when you refuse what I teach. I waste no more time.” She retrieved Diana’s discarded shift and threw it at her.
Diana pulled it hastily over her head. “It’s not that... it’s just that...we are two women.”
“So?” Salime said.
“I am unaccustomed to such intimate touch,” Dian explained. “I think I should prefer to watch.”
“While that may be arranged, Khanum, it is not enough just to watch. As with any art, it must be practiced to develop skill, but any gentleman here will likely wish you to participate.”
The notion filled Diana with distaste. After a moment, she asked, “You said you frequently attend Lord DeVere in the hammam. Could it be arranged for me to attend him with you? Perhaps incognito? You know I do not wish to touch another man, so this is the way you must teach me.”
Salime answered with a slow nod. “It could be done if that is your wish, Khanum.” Salime proceeded across the room to an ornately carved ebony box, retrieving from within an object wrapped in blue velvet. She opened the cloth to reveal what appeared to be an artificial phallus, large, slightly curved, and intricately carved of ivory. “But you must practice with this.” She presented the object to Diana. “Do you wish me to demonstrate?”
Diana nodded, too shocked to speak.
“Sit then.” Salime lowered herself to a cushion on the floor and indicated Diana should do the same. “This is the kamış, a most magnificent organ of pleasure. It is perfectly made for worship with your hands, your mouth, and your kılıf.”
“Kilif?”
“Your woman’s sheath. The control of which is another skill you must master.”
“What do you mean?”
“You must learn to relax the body and squeeze only the muscles inside the kilif. If you learn this command of your inner muscles, you will command both his pleasure...and your own. Use your fingers or use the phallus to practice this skill. The most expert of women can bring a man to completion simply by milking his kamış with her kilif alone. Master this, and he will belong to you and no other.”
“You have done this?” Diana asked. With him?
“Never with Efendi,” Salime answered the unvoiced question.
The notion that DeVere exercised at least some discretion with his various consorts gave Diana some small satisfaction. She had known the wonder of his kamış in her kilif, and she found the thought of doing so again uncontrollably arousing. While initially disgruntled about losing the wager, Diana now reasoned that there was no harm in enjoying the penalty—as long as she remained in control. Thus, she listened and watched raptly, resolved to master all of what Salime shared.
“When we go to the hammam, he will lie on the hot marble, and you will begin the massage with hands prepared with warm oil. You will knead, soothe, and rub, working slowly and deliberately from feet to neck and then back to the buttocks where you will linger with increasing intimacy.
“When he is thoroughly relaxed, he will turn over onto his back, and you will repeat the motions, rubbing the warm oil into his skin, advancing slowly toward the inner thighs and lower belly. Do this well and without touching the pleasure organ, and you will have him in a state of full arousal, heightened to an increased intensity as he anticipates your touch upon his kamış.
“You will firmly massage the bone above the kamış and then attend to his testis, kneading gently, for some men are very sensitive while others enjoy firmer handling. Behind his testis, use smooth downward strokes toward the ‘sacred spot.’ Circle and probe gently with your fingers, for mastering this technique affords him pleasure and can also be used to forestall emission. Do you comprehend, Khanum?”
“Yes, I follow you,” Diana replied.
“To massage the kamış, place one hand just so.” Salime wrapped her fingers firmly around the base of the phallus. “Gently squeeze and pull upward, sliding completely off. Repeat with the other hand, squeezing and pulling. Slowly. Sliding completely off. Continue on, and after a time, change directions, sliding your hand downward. When his breathing quickens, change the technique again, taking the kamış between both hands and rubbing it briskly back and forth, as if to start a fire.” She handed the object to Diana. “You do it.”
The artificial phallus was hard and smooth yet warm in her hands from Salime’s touch. Diana closed her eyes and imagined it was DeVere, an image that heated her insides, exciting a place that had been dormant far too long.
“When his excitation increases again, you must massage the head with the palm of your hand,” Salime instructed, demonstrating with a rotation of her wrist. Diana repeated the motion as if she were juicing a lemon. “The variation of these techniques will bring him closer and closer to boşalma, but if you feel the hardening of the testis, you must forestall this event by either moving to the sacred spot or by squeezing and holding the tip of the kamış.
“If you hold back his boşalma six times, his final emission will be powerful and his rapture intense and complete.” Salime regarded her steadily. “I can instruct you in the ways of pleasure, Khan
um, but when the time comes, you must be prepared to do all as I teach you.”
“You do not waste your time, Salime.”
“Also understand that I do this not for you but only for Efendi, for his happiness.”
“I understand,” Diana said.
Salime regarded Diana with narrowed eyes. “We shall see. Come now.” She rose and led Diana into an adjacent dressing room littered with silk scarves and various articles of richly embroidered clothing. Sizing Diana up, she handed her a pair of diaphanous, Turkish trousers in violet with a matching silver-embroidered tunic, a type of girdle ornamented with bronze coins, and a pair of slippers with silver bells. “Put those on. You must learn to dance.”
After an hour of intense instruction that made every muscle in Diana’s body scream, Salime remarked, “You dance with the grace and agility of a gravid camel! You must practice and come back tomorrow. You have much to learn.”
“Of course,” Diana said with humility. The dance Salime had performed with its rhythmic hip gyrations and obscenely erotic undulations had amazed and mesmerized her. She could easily imagine the seductive power of such a dance and wanted desperately to master it.
Salime added several silk scarves and veils to the other garb piled in Diana’s arms. “You must wear these when I send for you if you wish to remain unknown. Be certain to fully cover your head and face.”
“Thank you, Salime.”
The woman answered with a snort.
Diana departed the brothel feeling somehow more alive, self-confident, and more aware of her feminine allure than she had ever been before.
***
The opportunity to ply her new skills came sooner than Diana expected.
“Those heathens have returned, my lady,” said Polly. She handed Diana a message that Salime awaited her outside in a hackney.
“Polly,” Diana said, “I must go out and cannot say when I shall return, nor can I explain. I may be gone for a week, but please know that I am safe. I only beg for your discretion.”
“Anything, my lady. You know there is none more loyal to you.”
“I know that, Polly.”
“Are you in trouble, my lady?” the maid asked, a frown puckering her forehead.
“I am not in danger if that is your concern, and any so-called trouble is strictly of my own making. I shall be fine.” She patted the anxious maid’s hand.
“It’s that devil DeVere, isn’t it?” Polly said with a scowl.
“I don’t wish to speak of it,” Diana replied. “Pray convey to Mustafa that I need a few minutes to prepare myself, and then you must help me to dress.”
“Of course, my lady.” Polly bobbed, the expression of disapproval never leaving her face.
***
“You will follow me as a servant,” Salime commanded Diana while they waited in the coach parked in the mews behind DeVere House.
Mustafa promptly returned with a message of welcome. “Enfendi will receive you in the hammam.”
Salime gave a nod of approval, and then she and Diana descended. Entering the house through the servants’ quarter, they proceeded through several passages that terminated in the back of the domicile where a separate, small building with a domed roof had been added on. “It is constructed just as those in my homeland,” Salime remarked.
Crossing the threshold through the arched doorway, Diana was first struck by the heat and humidity, but then taking in the chamber from its intricately tiled floor to the domed ceiling, she felt like she had been transported to another time and place. The interior floor and walls were comprised of vibrant mosaics. A gurgling fountain sat at one end, and a raised table constructed of marble commanded the room’s center.
“There are three chambers, Khanum, interconnected rooms. This is the sıcaklık, a hot room containing the marble slab for massage; the second is the warm room for washing, and the soğukluk is the cool room for bathing,” Salime explained. “The other rooms lie beyond and connect to Efendi’s private apartments.”
Diana was once more struck with a pang at Salime’s intimate knowledge of DeVere’s domicile and habits. A moment later, the door to the adjacent room opened to reveal the devil himself. Barefoot and garbed in a silk banyan, DeVere entered. Salime rushed forward to kneel at his feet. Diana reluctantly followed suit.
“I was not expecting you, Salime.” His voice held a hint of disapproval.
“But it has been much time since you sent for me, Efendi.”
“I have been away.”
“But now you are returned.” Salime smiled. “I beg you will indulge me, as I have acquired an odalisque to train.”
“Have you, indeed?” DeVere narrowed his sharp blue gaze at Diana, who with head and face covered, was quick to downcast her eyes.
“Yes, Efendi. I will leave here one day soon and have promised Madam Hayes I would teach another the ways.”
“And you wish to use me for her instruction?”
“It is best, Efendi, for you know the customs of the East. You do not mind?”
“I don’t recall ever having objected to placing my body in a woman’s hands before.” DeVere laughed and then fixed his gaze upon Diana. “May I know her name?”
“Didem,” Salime was quick to answer. “She has little English, Efendi.”
“Ah, then it is a good thing I know her tongue.”
Diana slanted Salime a panicked look, but DeVere said no more. His good humor seemingly restored, he dropped his robe and sauntered nude to the marble table. He moved without the least appearance of self-consciousness, with a confident and athletic grace that made Diana’s throat dry despite the damp. She watched as Salime laid down a large towel for him to lie upon and rolled another for the purpose of resting his head before he lay face down on the slab.
A light sheen of moisture already coated his skin, drawing her attention to the sculpted lines of muscle and sinew of his legs, back, and taut buttocks, truly a sight worthy of feminine worship. She didn’t know if the weakness in her knees was more from the heat or the sight of DeVere in his natural glory; either way, the humid room and his nakedness had begun to take its toll.
Diana followed Salime to the small fountain and lifted her veil to briskly splash cool water on her face to relieve the heated flush, while the other woman discarded slippers, bracelets, girdle and tunic, leaving only her light linen shift and trousers. Salime then retrieved a rough, woven mitt, a bar of soap, and a basin of water. She handed the bottle of almond oil to Diana.
“He will lie thus for a time until his body is warm and relaxed,” Salime explained in a low voice. “Then we massage and wash him as he desires. I shall begin, and you will follow, doing as I do.”
Diana cast a faltering gaze to the object of her forthcoming ministrations, wondering if she had the nerve to follow through after all.
“If you allow yourself, Khanum, you will discover you enjoy this almost as much as he, and if you please him well, perhaps Efendi may reciprocate.”
That thought, of his hot hands coated with oil, smoothing over every inch of her naked body, was nearly Diana’s undoing.
Chapter Fourteen
Ludovic had at first been annoyed that Salime appeared without invitation, but it didn’t take him long to deduce who the second veiled figure was, for he would recognize Diana’s form and movement anywhere. Had this been her purpose in delaying their tryst? Had she actually sought out Salime? It appeared so. And now she was in his bath to serve him. His lips curved into a smile. How very intriguing, indeed. Although he had yet to comprehend her stratagem, he was resolved to play along.
Heated by a furnace under the floor, the stone in the room permeated warmth that transferred into his body as he lay on the table. He heard the swish of dampened silk as Salime and Diana approached. They began by massaging his feet and legs, the kneading and rubbing sending random sparks of sensation straight to his cock. Although he normally enjoyed the traditional Turkish massage and often eschewed the more personal attention to his
genitals—unless he was in particular need of sexual release—this time, he was already tumescent with anticipation. He shifted his hips to relieve the pressure.
“Your odalisque has good hands, Salime. Perhaps Didem would benefit from solo practice. What do you say?” He had to suppress a chuckle when the second pair of hands paused in their ministrations.
“As you wish, Efendi,” Salime answered. “Do you wish me to stay?”
“I don’t think it necessary. I am certain I can manage to guide her.”
“Very well, Efendi. Please know you need only send for me if Didem in any way fails to please you.”
He rose on one elbow to consider the veiled figure. “I think that all depends on how badly Didem desires to please.” Diana glanced up at him for only the briefest second, but the flash of fire in her moss-green eyes was unmistakable.
“She shall be beaten well if she fails, Efendi,” Salime warned and then gathered up her things and departed.
Ludovic remained propped on his side, studying Diana, his arousal clearly evident to both of them.
“You lie down now?” she prompted in a low voice.
“I think we are quite finished with my posterior,” he said, slowly rolling onto his back, and sprawling like a king. Knowing she gaped, he closed his eyes with a smile, allowing her to look her fill. She moved to his feet, but the hands that touched him trembled slightly. “It is too warm in here for all your clothing, Didem. I think it best you remove some of it, don’t you?”
“As you wish, Efendi,” came a muffled reply.
He cracked an eye open to watch her remove girdle and tunic.
“The trousers as well, Didem.”
She hesitated.
“You wish to please me, do you not?” He noted her furrowing brows, yet she removed the trousers. He also observed with satisfaction that she wore no stays, which allowed the thin linen to cling damply to her voluptuous curves, curves made for a man’s pleasure. She returned to him wearing only her shift and veils, again keeping her eyes downcast as she went to work.
The Devil's Match Page 10
