My Fair Concubine (24 page)

It was the same two characters on each page.

‘I must have been so obvious.’

She jumped and her hand flew to her throat. Fei Long stood there in the doorway, his gaze intent on her. Her pulse skipped dangerously.

‘I was afraid everyone could sense my inner thoughts. The emotions shouted from inside me.’ He came into the room and shut the door carefully behind him. ‘The more I tried to hide it, the more I was convinced you could see how I felt in every look.’

Yan Ling stared down at the calligraphy. It was her name. Written over and over in so many different ways.

‘There is a balance inherent in the art of writing, of
shū
.’ His voice was quiet, stroking gently over her skin. ‘Defined rules about how to write each character. Every stroke has its place and position.’

As he approached, she became aware how their usual situation had been reversed. She was the one who sat and waited as he came near. Yet he continued to instruct her.

‘The discipline of it is learning how to express yourself within the confines of form and structure. The brush reveals every nuance, every internal emotion.’ He met her eyes. ‘If a few simple strokes could reveal so much, then how could anyone not sense the depth of feeling for you in every word I spoke, every movement that I made?’

Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. She struggled to find her voice. ‘I didn’t see. I hoped, but I didn’t dare to dream.’

She looked to the papers again. He’d trained her in calligraphy to teach her patience and discipline while using the same techniques to try to control his own emotions. He’d buried them deep and only allowed then to show in one place.

In the forms, she could see the gathered memories of their days together. She could see the hundred different ways he thought of her. The flowing curves of wistfulness, the tight control of denial. It was all there. Anger, hope, longing. Desire.

‘I think of you all the time.’ She had to tell him how she felt now, even if nothing came of it. ‘I’ll always think of you. I’ll never forget you, Fei Long.’

She would have kept on going, pouring out everything inside of her, but Fei Long had moved around the desk. He pulled her to her feet and cradled her face tenderly in both his hands.

‘You’re crying.’ His thumb brushed over her cheek, wiping away a tear.

‘I don’t mean to.’

Yan Ling wished she could have been prettier then, not red-faced and swollen, but Fei Long lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips trembled so hard she couldn’t return the kiss, but he didn’t seem to mind. He kissed her again, moving gently over her mouth, his hand beneath her chin to raise her face to him.

If he had let her speak, Yan Ling would have told him so much more. She loved him. She’d always love him. So she tried to tell him in the way her body curved into him and the soft sigh of her breath mingling with his.

Her tears had stopped by the time he raised his head. His hands still framed her face. She let her eyes roam over his features to commit every stroke and curve to memory. All she could see was Fei Long: his piercing eyes dark with contemplation and the defined shape of his mouth, sensual in its own way. It was the only time she had allowed herself to take in the sight of him for as long as she wanted, not averting her eyes out of shyness or fear.

His expression shifted. Nothing more than a ripple of decision that settled in his eyes. His hands released her cheeks and he leaned ever so slightly towards her. The small of her back came up against the edge of the desk.

Her breathing quickened. ‘Fei Long,’ she whispered and it meant a hundred things. Most importantly, it meant yes.

He held her with his gaze as he lifted her onto the edge of the desk. Her feet lifted from the floor and for a moment she lost her balance, leaning back too far. Fei Long caught her. One arm moved around to brace itself just behind her and she raised her hands to his shoulders, her fingers digging into lean, hard muscle. She didn’t know what came next, but she wanted it.

‘Yan Ling.’ The knot at his throat lifted and lowered.

His robe brushed against her knees as he pressed even closer, trapping her against the broad frame of his body. She wouldn’t say anything this time. She was too afraid of breaking the moment in its most fragile state. Fei Long lowered his lips to the exposed skin of her throat, kissing her until her skin warmed and tingled. She tilted her head to bare her neck to him, offering him anything he wanted.

He lowered his hand and fisted it into the material of her skirt. In two efficient tugs, he lifted the silk enough to rest his hand against her bare thigh. But his intention was soon clear. Fei Long took her mouth again as he slipped his hand between her legs. He traced a finger delicately along the intimate fold of her flesh and she jumped. Her heart sped up uncontrollably. She could barely sit still, but Fei Long held her in place, anchored against him. His finger stroked upwards, then down with relentless patience, his fingertip just parting her. She moaned softly. He adjusted the angle of his hand beneath her skirt and pressed deeper so that his touch slicked directly over the hidden pearl of her sex.

Sensation shot up her spine and her body went weak. Her lips parted helplessly in pleasure and he kissed her in her abandon, touching her intimately until she cried out. Her hands clutched at his robe and her legs parted of their own accord in a silent plea. All the while, Fei Long watched her intently.

She blinked up at him. His breathing had increased, but his expression remained hard and inscrutable. Her eyes glazed over as his fingers tormented her flesh. His touch was a constant now, teasing her relentlessly. If he stopped, she would die. If he didn’t stop—she didn’t know.

Her head fell back in surrender, but Fei Long was there to catch her. His other arm circled her now with his hand splayed against her back to keep her upright. She closed her eyes, shaking her head in denial, because the sheer torture of this was senseless. He commanded her with nothing but this single, unending caress and it became everything. Cruelly, inexplicably, everything.

She cried out as her body tightened. Fei Long crushed his mouth to her and she sobbed against his lips. Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched as she shook inside and out.

His touch became gentle on her now. Soothing. But even that was too much. She communicated to him with a small murmur of protest. All speech had left her, but he understood. He removed his hand and soothed her skirts back in place. Then he enclosed her in his arms and squeezed tight, exhaling in one long sigh as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw the familiar study lit by the warm glow of the lanterns. But everything looked different. Her head was tucked beneath Fei Long’s chin. Her cheek rested against his breastbone. His heartbeat thudded against her ear. His muscles remained coiled and tight.

Listlessly, she reached for his robe. There was no strength left in her body as she went through the motions of undressing him, but he wasn’t co-operating. He stopped her hand with his own and she looked up at him questioningly. She didn’t know much about coupling or the art of the bedchamber, but she recognised that Fei Long had introduced her to pleasure while denying his own satisfaction.

Before she could doubt herself, he kissed her again. Each kiss was different, she realised. The same simple construct with an infinite number of ways to render it. The papers on the desk rustled as he lowered her feet to the floor.

‘Wait here,’ he said.

He went to extinguish the lanterns and then came back to take her hand. They emerged from the study and Yan Ling could hear the servants carousing out in the courtyard and the banquet room at the opposite end of the house. Not much time had passed, though it felt like an entire lifetime to her.

Fei Long walked ahead, scanning each passage before leading her through. His hand was warm over hers while their fingers intertwined. As they turned the last corner, even as he pushed the door open, he didn’t let go.

Inside his bedchamber, darkness enfolded her as soon as the door closed. The air rushed out of her when Fei Long snatched her up. Her legs were weak from what had happened in the study. Her skin was still flushed and sensitive.

‘Light a lantern,’ she said.

‘But you’re right here. I know how to find you.’ She loved how intimate his voice sounded in the dark.

‘Indulge me.’ She was too shy to admit she wanted to see what he looked like.

He left while Yan Ling felt her way towards the far wall. Her hands found the woodwork of the alcove. She moved along it until she found the opening and sank down onto the bed.

Fei Long lit a single oil lamp and brought it to the bedside table. It cast an orb of light about him, leaving her on the outside watching him.

‘I want you to ruin me,’ she said as he came to the bed. ‘Take everything. Render me unsuitable for anyone else.’

Her voice trembled. She’d never spoken such scandalous words, not even secretly in the privacy of her thoughts. The two of them had danced so carefully around one another for months. She didn’t want any doubt at the end of the night. Fei Long couldn’t hide behind his honour any longer. Let him seduce her and cast her aside—but she would have him make that choice rather than remain in denial of what they had between them.

His gaze was intent upon her. ‘This isn’t ruin, Yan.’ He loosened his sash and peeled away the outer layer of his robe. In a few efficient movements, he opened his tunic and cast it aside as well, revealing the hardened planes of his chest. ‘But I will take everything.’

He lowered himself beside her and reached for the pins in her hair. Her fingers brushed over his as she helped him. Then he slipped the silk from her shoulders, freeing her from the layers that hid her from him. Cool air washed over her skin as her arms were bared. He ran his mouth reverently over all that he had uncovered, kissing along the curve of her shoulder, touching his lips to her collarbone.

They sat facing each other, exploring. She touched him with hesitant fingers and ran her hands over the dense muscle of his arms. He sucked in a breath as she explored him, sliding down low over his abdomen. He was intensely beautiful. So strong. A faint, mottled shadow remained low on his left side.

‘Are you well enough for…’ She struggled for words. He hadn’t taught her any suitable ones. ‘For this?’

He regarded her incredulously and then laughed. The short, sharp bark of it cut through their gentle explorations. Fei Long untied the ribbons that held the embroidered swatch of cloth over her breasts. The undergarment fell away, shamelessly exposing her to his gaze.

Without warning, Fei Long bent and took her breast into his mouth, pushing her down onto the bed as he sucked with gentle insistence. She made a startled sound and her back arched. A new sort of pleasure took her. A dangerous sort, more unbidden and torturous than what he’d shown her in the study. His mouth was wet on her, and so hot. His tongue found her nipple and he circled it while her insides curled and clenched and she didn’t know whether to free herself or hold on to him and never let go.

The moment the sensation overwhelmed her, he released the first breast to tease the other, making her body swell and tighten at once. The rapture of it lifted her hips into him. Fei Long groaned and pressed himself to her, fitting himself into the juncture of her thighs. She wasn’t alone in this torment. Fei Long was there with her. They struggled together. The rigid outline of his erection pushed hard against her and she worked her hand between the crush of their bodies. Swallowing her nervousness, she eased her hand past the waist of his trousers and plunged downwards.

Fei Long tensed at her first touch. She explored the smooth hardness of him, so hot beneath the skin. She never imagined it being so. With a low sound in his throat, Fei Long closed his eyes and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. He ground himself mindlessly against her, filling her hand.

Then he pulled away and her hand slipped free. There was no trace of tenderness in him as he stood. His expression was heated steel as he removed his trousers. He untied his hair as well and for a moment stood naked over her.

She took him in, all of him. Her mouth was painfully dry and even swallowing didn’t banish the knot in her throat. This was what she had wanted to know—the sight of Fei Long when there were no more boundaries between them. She took the vision deep into herself. It would always be there, no matter what the morning brought.

He moved with swift purpose, returning to the bed and lowering himself. Thick black hair framed his face. She only had time to anchor her fingers into it before he was parting her legs. In the next moment, he used his hands to position himself against her. One careful push and he entered her slowly, taking away all thought and speech and breath. He thrust again, deeper and fuller. His body breached hers with only a moment of pain and soon he was gliding into her.

Her body accepted him, recognising the sensations that had been unknown yet eagerly awaited. She was slick from being pleasured so thoroughly, but it wasn’t complete until now. She didn’t realise it until the plunge of his body into her made her heart race. Fei Long pinned her with his weight and filled her. The scent of him surrounded her.

She pressed her lips against his throat and tasted the salt of his skin. The thrust of his body took on an exhilarating urgency, a riotous intensity that she could feel through the height and breadth of her body. There was no time to think. Only feel.

He was taking everything, just as he promised. Just as she wanted.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on.

Chapter Twenty-Three

T
here was heat around him. Tight, silken flesh. Yan Ling.

Yan Ling.

Her body lifted and he closed his arms around her, using the leverage to take her more fully. He couldn’t get enough. His release built rapidly. Her body tightened unbearably around him as if urging him on. He complied. He had no choice.

His muscles locked as he peaked. He bowed his head against her neck in surrender and worship. His hands dug into the small of her back to angle her hips for his final thrusts. It was greed that made him seek every last drop of pleasure.

His body released into her and then Fei Long stilled, drained of everything that had been building inside him for so long. Only then did his senses come back to him.

Fei Long didn’t know what to say. He relaxed his hold on her, not realising until then how hard he’d gripped her in his frenzy. Yan was a slight, slender woman and he’d forgotten in the burn of desire. He’d used her so completely.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, which was an unreasonable question to ask once all was done.

‘No.’

The silence stretched on. Fei Long raised himself up so that he could see Yan Ling. Her hair was in disarray. Her eyes were lidded and sensual and her skin radiated with an inner light. Beautiful.

He touched two fingers to her cheek. ‘Are you all right, Yan?’

She nodded, but winced slightly as he withdrew from her. Yan Ling was a maiden and he had completely forgotten himself, taking her roughly for his own pleasure. Shame gutted him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice hoarse with remorse.

‘Sorry?’ Her tone became guarded.

‘You’re inexperienced and I was—’ he fought for the right word ‘—impatient.’

Yan Ling stared at him. Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she burst into laughter. She shook with it and he could sense every tiny vibration with her lying beneath him. The clear, sweet sound warmed his soul.

‘Impatient?’ She wiped at the corner of her eyes, she was laughing so hard. ‘I suppose all that calligraphy didn’t help after all.’

‘No,’ he said, his chest swelling with fondness. ‘Not at all.’

All those days, writing her name over and over like a lovesick scholar. Wasn’t he quite the tragic hero?

He held her closer. Kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose. Anywhere that he’d neglected her. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his shoulder.

‘I didn’t mind,’ she said softly, shyly. Which in itself was new. He’d never known Yan Ling to be particularly shy.

Fei Long eased her back to the bed and kissed her mouth tenderly. Took time now to explore the rise and curve of her breasts. Her figure was slight, but perfectly rounded. He ran his hands down her waist, her hips, seeing her once again for the first time.

It should have been their wedding night. A night of discovery. He treated it now as if it was, learning the smooth skin of her inner arm, the rougher texture of her hands. Not a lady’s hands, but he loved them because they were hers and they told a story that was no one else’s.

Yan Ling explored him as well, running her hands over his chest and down his arms and back. She stroked his side lightly, very lightly, asking him if it hurt. It didn’t. All the pain had disappeared. Or rather it had become insignificant in the wake of something much greater.

Her touch grew bolder and his body heated. But it was a steady fire this time. He was able to give her the patience and discipline he strived for, letting her arousal build, entering her with care. Even as her heat surrounded him, he watched Yan Ling, striving to learn the nuances of her passion before the fire took him.

He held himself back long enough to feel her convulse and shudder. The pressure gathered in his lower back, nearly unbearable. He fought it back while her nails bit into his shoulders. The sound of her broken cries of pleasure finally pushed him over. He couldn’t hold back any longer. The climax ravaged his body before it released him.

Then they were still. An absolute and rare peace like no other.

But the peace didn’t last. Yan Ling kissed his shoulder once, then grew serious. ‘What are we going to do, Fei Long?’

‘Fall asleep.’ He slid down beside her and pulled the blanket around both of them.

Her lips pressed tight as she bit back her protest. He was relieved. He’d already placed too much of a burden on Yan Ling and it had been wrong of him to do so. He’d find a solution—he didn’t know what, but he would. She didn’t need to worry about it.

Yan came to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her hand drew a lazy pattern over his chest. Eventually she began to drift. Her soft weight grew heavy in sleep. He stayed awake a while longer to watch her.

All Yan Ling needed to know was that he’d take care of her. She didn’t need to sacrifice herself for his sake. From the beginning, he was the one who should have been prepared to give up everything.

* * *

Yan Ling opened her eyes. The chirp of birdsong outside told her morning was near, though it was still dark. For a moment she floated, still soaked in sleep, until memories of the night came back to her. She was in Fei Long’s chamber. In Fei Long’s bed.

She faced outwards from the alcove. The dimness washed the colour from everything, leaving the room in shapes and shadows. She could feel the cradle of Fei Long’s body nestled securely behind her.

‘Are you awake?’ He ran a soothing hand from her arm up her shoulder.

She nodded, making a sound of acknowledgement even as she closed her eyes again. She didn’t want to wake yet. It would mean she’d have to get up. She’d have to set foot outside this chamber and face what they were both afraid to admit. What they had couldn’t exist outside these closed doors.

‘Do you know how many times I agonised over this part of your neck or this one ear?’ His mouth brushed over her neck before he took her earlobe between his lips, sucking gently. A shiver ran down her spine, making her breath catch and her toes curl restlessly. ‘You would gather your hair with your hands and sweep it over your shoulder to keep it out of the way before you’d begin to write. And I’d watch you, barely able to breathe.’

She squirmed against him, pleased. ‘I never knew.’

He ran his hand between her breasts and down over the flat of her stomach. His voice was low and sensual in her ear. ‘The sight of your wrists would make me ache. You once brushed your bare forearm over mine while we were looking at a map.’

So many little moments. She remembered them, too. She’d held them close to her breast as secret memories that only she held dear. But she’d been mistaken.

Fei Long’s hand had reached her leg. He ran the flat of his palm over her in a broad, soothing motion before gently parting her thighs.

‘Are you still sore?’

His voice was heavy with desire and her pulse quickened. Her body grew damp even before he touched her. His fingers stroked lightly. She whimpered and arched her back into him. He drew out her desire, touching her until her body became liquid and heat beneath his fingertips.

‘Can it be done this way?’ she murmured in surprise as he positioned her with his hands so her back was to him and she felt the blunt tip of him intimately parting her.

She couldn’t see his face. All she knew of him was through tension and touch. His hand cradled her breast and his body shifted against hers, his legs curving against the back of her thighs.

‘Yes,’ he said, low and enticing against her ear. He slid into her in a slow, consuming penetration that stole her breath. ‘There must be a thousand ways to make love.’

He withdrew slightly before sliding back in. Small, slow movements. He took her with just the shifting of his hips. His hand dipped to slide over the small bud of her sex, adding more pleasure while all she could do was writhe against him. The position left her open and vulnerable, helpless to do anything but accept and feel.

She curved her hand back to sink her fingers into his hair. It was the only way to hold on to him as he filled her, flooding her with sensation. Her other hand closed over his as he caressed her breast.

‘Yes,’ he said again, this time harsher as he urged her on.

Her throat was completely dry and she gasped with each thrust of his hips. Though she barely moved, her heart raced. She could feel Fei Long surrounding her, securing her against his strong body as desire became desperation. Their skin was slick with sweat and heated beyond endurance. She breathed shallowly. His own breathing was laboured and rough.

She sobbed with every sharp tug of pleasure when he touched her just so, lightning quick above the apex of her sex, slow and grinding immediately below where his thick organ filled her.

‘Yes,’ he shuddered as he beseeched her. There were no words for what he wanted, but she wanted it too. ‘Yan,’ he pleaded.

Yan Ling pushed back against him as hard as she could as every muscle within her tightened. His muscled body formed a brace for her in her passion. She cried out, the sound strained within her throat. A vindicating and final rush of pleasure arched through her. An exquisite pain beyond thought.

He increased his penetration at the last edges of her climax, before the last wave had subsided. His hand tightened on her hip to pull her harder against him and he hooked his leg over her to increase his possession. He couldn’t move as deeply in this position, but he didn’t need to. She gasped at the force of his thrusts and the hunger behind it. Her body was swollen with sated pleasure, squeezing tight around him, urging him on to his completion. Only then could they both be free.

He groaned, deep, guttural sounds akin to pain. Her soft cries joined his. It
was
pain. The most desperate sort of yearning that could only be cleansed in one way. Soon his body shuddered and thrust deep. He held her rigid against him as he lost himself inside her.

These last throes were so beautiful to her in their animal baseness. All thought and civility fled and there was no denying that they belonged to each other. Him to her. Her to him.

Finally she could breathe again. She tucked her arm beneath her, resting her head against it. Fei Long curved his arm around her with languid possession. With his other hand, he
pulled her hair back from her neck and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin. The nearly unbearable heat between their
bodies cooled rapidly to a perfect cocoon of warmth.

She chuckled softly, unable to contain her happiness.

‘What?’ Fei Long asked, his voice thick.

‘Nothing.’ She closed her eyes and snuggled against him.

‘Tell me.’ He gave her hip an impatient shake, perturbed even at this small denial.

‘A storm of passion,’ she murmured, burying her smile against the crook of her arm. ‘You swore there would never be such a thing between us.’

‘This isn’t a storm of passion.’

‘No?’ She wriggled her bottom against him smugly.

‘No.’

Fei Long just couldn’t bear being wrong, could he?

‘This is love,’ he argued.

She stilled, minute tension travelling along her entire body. Fei Long grew quiet as well behind her. All she could hear was his steady breathing. The soft brush of it tickled the hairs at the back of her neck.

Fearfully, she turned in his arms. The morning dimness left him in shadow and she had to strain to see his face.

‘This is love,’ he repeated.

How could he say it so calmly when her insides danced in circles? Her heart roared. She started trembling. In contrast, Fei Long reached out a steady hand to brush her hair away from her eyes.

‘We have to hide away,’ she said. ‘Together.’

He’d come with her, wouldn’t he? He loved her.

He loved her.

‘We’re not going anywhere.’

‘What about Khitan and the betrothal? The Foreign Ministry will come to take me.’

‘They’ll come to take my sister, but I’ll tell them Pearl is gone and I couldn’t stop her.’

She knew it wasn’t as simple as he tried to make it sound. He was being Fei Long again, taking the entire burden on his own shoulders in silence.

‘But Khitan is expecting a princess,’ she argued. ‘And after the assurances you’ve given Minster Cao and Inspector Tong—’

Fei Long remained stoic. ‘I’m prepared for the consequences. Our family name—’ At that, a pained look crossed his face, but he continued. ‘Our family name will suffer. We may never regain honour before the eyes of the imperial court and all of Changan, but this is my burden to bear.’

‘The imperial court could have you beaten for disobedience. They could denounce your family and strip you of everything.’

The enormity of it left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. After his triumph that morning, she would have thought Fei Long would fight to keep what was his, honour be damned.

‘I have to go,’ she choked out. It made her sick to say it.

‘I won’t let you do this for me.’

‘Not for you.’ She couldn’t look at him. Her body went numb. She needed to be somewhere else, to be someone else to do this. ‘For Dao. For Old Man Liang and the stable boy. For this house.’ And for Fei Long. For his ancestors as well. Could he ever understand? This had become her family as well. ‘I won’t let you give up everything you’ve fought for.’

He reached for her, resting his forehead against hers just as he’d done in the archery park, but there was something different in him this time.

‘If I wasn’t certain before, then I know it now. I know it in my soul.’ His voice grew thick with emotion. ‘When you refused to run away with me, you all but denounced me as a coward.’

‘That wasn’t my intention—’

He silenced her by holding her tighter. ‘You were right. And I realised there were two things I would face ruin for rather than giving up without a fight. Our family home is one. The other is you, Yan.’

‘But you could lose everything,’ she whispered.

‘I’ll face the foreign ministry and the imperial court with head high.’

He lowered his mouth to hers, pouring all his sincerity and intention into a single kiss. ‘Stand beside me,’ he said.

Fei Long was fearless, and she wanted to believe he could succeed.