The Devil's Match (14 page)

“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,
Khanum
, 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.

He shut his own again to better appreciate
the feel of her hands, luxuriating in the sensation of warm oil
poured and massaged into his skin. The trembling of her fingers had
ceased as she plied them with firm deliberation up his thighs,
squeezing and molding the muscles, moving ever closer to his
rampantly aroused
kamış.
Her
nimble digits slid to his inner thighs, upward to skirt his
testis,
but she left him wanting,
his yen for her touch unsatisfied. He groaned in disappointed
anticipation. He cracked his eyes open in time to see her gaze
flick over his face.
So that’s how the
game begins, eh?

She worked his pubic bone, driving him mad
with the circular motions of her palms, stimulating circulation
above a cock that was already fully engorged and throbbing with the
need to spend. He wanted to shout for her to take him in hand and
pump him madly.
Breathe deeply, DeVere.
Don’t let her know the effect this is having on you. You can’t
afford to give her any more advantage than she already has.
He ground his teeth in the effort, but then she mercifully
moved on to his abdomen and chest. Her lush, full breasts moved
freely. He could make out the hint of dusky nipple that teased his
flesh as she reached across his body. He restrained the urge to
grasp one of those magnificent mounds by clenching his fists by his
sides.

She was close enough that he could smell
the salty tang of perspiration mixed with Attar of Damask Rose, the
scent Diana most favored. His nostrils flared in an effort to
breathe her into his lungs, only to have a third component jolt his
olfactory senses—feminine desire. He was not mistaken; she was
becoming as aroused as he. But it was not enough to smell it. He
wanted to see it—the passion in her eyes, the telling pink flush on
her skin. With every nerve fiber in his body ignited, he could no
longer control his breathing. The slow, deep respirations became
erratic and ragged as she moved down his body, sneaking knowing
glances through the slit in her veil.
She
knows damned well what she is about!

Her gaze fixed on his face, she poured
more oil in her palm and with agonizing languor, wrapped her hand
around the base of his shaft, squeezing and pulling upward with
warm, slick motions. She repeated the task with her opposite hand,
and his mind blurred from the sheer bliss of sensation. He closed
his eyes and dropped his head back with a groan, giving himself up
to the pleasure of her decadently dexterous and deliberate
ministrations—by turns, milking and massaging his shaft, the
bulbous head of his cock, and his bollocks until he thought he
would explode. He was hard as stone, full to overflowing with his
own essence, and ready to spend with violence when she arrested her
attention to his shaft and slid her fingers to the sensitive spot
behind his sac. A moment of pressure and the urgency of his need
eased off.
How the devil did she learn
this?
He was almost afraid to know.