“What a lovely thing to say, my lord. You are indeed kind to me.” She slipped the chain about her neck. “And generous, too.”
“It pleases me to be kind and generous to you,” he said. “I should like it if one day you would also be kind and generous to me.”
Velvet lowered her eyes as she felt her cheeks grow warm. His meaning was very clear. “Will you play chess with me tonight, my lord?” she asked him, attempting to change the subject.
He laughed softly. “Of course, if that is what you wish.” He turned toward the chessboard when suddenly his eyes lit upon the sandalwood box that Adali had placed so that his master would see it. “What is this, my Rose?” Akbar said.
She answered without thinking. “It is a gift from the Lady Jodh Bai.”
“What is it?”
“A … book, my lord.”
“A book? Let me see it, my pet. I greatly fancy books and have an enormous library of them at Lahore.”
“My lord, it is a book for a woman, not a man,” Velvet replied, her cheeks turning pink again.
“Has Jodh Bai sent you a Pillow Book, perchance?”
Velvet nodded blindly, not daring to look at him.
“A Pillow Book, my Rose, is for both the bride and the bridegroom. It is believed that by viewing paintings of the postures of love together they will be reassured.” Akbar opened the box and lifted the book out. “Come,” he said to her. “Let us sit outside upon the terrace and view the book together. Bring a lamp so that we may fully enjoy the artwork, for much care and talent goes into the making of such a book.”
It was impossible to refuse him, and so with a sinking heart Velvet followed him onto the terrace. The night was warm, the slate-black sky sprinkled with bright stars. Akbar settled himself with his back against the cushions. He wore a white silk gown that was belted about his middle with a cloth of gold sash and his customary white turban, but his feet were bare as they usually were within the privacy of the zenana.
“Sit next to me, my Rose,” he invited, patting the cushions at his side.
Reluctantly she sat by him, and, placing the book where they both might see it, he opened to the first of the paintings.
On second glance it is not so shocking, Velvet thought. “The colors are very fresh, aren’t they?” she noted.
“Yes,” he answered her seriously. “Note that the prince portrayed wears a lotus crown. That would indicate that he has reached a high level of spiritual attainment.” He turned the page, and Velvet sucked her breath in sharply. The beautiful consort was now bare-breasted, and the prince’s crown was gone. Akbar chuckled. “I do not believe the prince now thinks of the advancement of his soul, but rather the sweet flesh of his consort.” He turned to the next page.
The prince firmly clasped one of his lady’s breasts in his hand while his other hand roamed her bare belly. Velvet trembled, and Akbar’s hand closed over hers while he moved on to the next page. Here the prince and his consort were both unclothed, and she lay in his arms as he gazed lovingly down at her, his masculinity fully engorged and thrusting forward in anticipation. Velvet’s breath caught in her throat, and then she began to breathe rather quickly. Feeling Akbar’s fingers gently undoing the ribbons that held her blouse together, she tensed.
“No, my Rose,” he breathed warmly in her ear, “don’t be afraid of me. I have sworn not to force you, and I will keep my promise. I only wish to caress you. Surely you will not deny me that?”
“N-no, my lord,” she whispered, her throat tight as she forced the words out.
The ribbon ties undone, he pushed the silk blouse off her shoulders and then with swift fingers removed it completely, laying it to one side on the couch. His breath hissed softly. “Allah! Allah!” he murmured, “your breasts are like twin moons.” Reaching out, he began to stroke her with a light and gentle touch.
His caress sent a small shiver of pleasure racing through Velvet’s veins, and she was unable to restrain the small “ohhh” that slipped forth from between her lips.
Akbar moved her from her position at his side so that she sat between his legs. Drawing her back against his chest, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, his thumbs softly but insistently rubbing against her nipples. “Turn the page, my Rose,” he commanded her, and Velvet obeyed him.
The picture before her both shocked and excited her, for now the beautiful woman lay upon her back, the prince between her legs, his tongue gently probing at her deepest secret. She stared, fascinated, at the little painting. The woman wore a look of pure ecstasy, her eyes half-closed in her passion. Velvet shivered uncontrollably.
“Did your first husband do that to you, my Rose?” came Akbar’s deep voice. “Are you remembering your own pleasure?”
“Alex never d-did that to m-me,” she whispered. “I did not know that a man did such things to a woman.” She was still shivering.
“It is a way to give a woman sweetness, my love. A woman’s pleasure only adds to a man’s pleasure. I want to love you like that, my Rose. I want to give you joy.”
Velvet quickly turned the page, unable to bear it any longer. The paintings were frankly exciting her. If she could just get through the Pillow Book, then everything would be all right. But the next painting showed the woman between the man’s legs, her mouth caressing his sex. With a cry of despair she turned the page once more to discover the two lovers now joined in a conjugal embrace, his mighty shaft plunging deep into the beautiful consort, who was quite openly encouraging his efforts. “Oh, God,” she sobbed, closing the book with a slam.
Releasing his hold upon her breasts, Akbar pulled Velvet into his arms, and his mouth crushed bruisingly against hers. Unable to restrain her inflamed emotions, she wrapped her arms about him and returned the kiss as passionately. For some time they kissed hungrily and without ceasing, one deep kiss blending into another. His tongue made its first penetration of her, plunging between her lips and into her mouth to meet with her tongue, which leaped with shock at his touch and fled, only to be pursued until the two were entwining together with ever-mounting ardor.
Finally their lips parted, and he gazed down upon her with burning eyes. “I want to make love to you,” he said in his deep voice. “I want to plunge my lingam deep within your sweet yoni! Can you honestly tell me that you do not want me, too, my beautiful Rose? Can you honestly deny us the bliss that our bodies so desperately crave?”
