Meanwhile the younger one was beginning to moan as her hand worked between her thighs. The other one–the one still crouched between Tai Lai’s legs–began to stand, but Tai Lai shot her an angry look.
“Again!” she commanded. “Slower this time.”
The other one nodded and bent to her work. And then there were two women moaning and thrashing while one became noisy in her slurps.
“And this is how they entertain themselves at night?” Ji Yue asked. “While others watch?”
“And during the day sometimes as well. How else can they occupy their time with no children to care for and no man to ease their suffering.”
“But surely when Dao Guang was alive–”
“This is the lowest harem. He never called for any of them. All of them are still virgins, all imprisoned in the Forbidden City, unable to leave even to visit their own families. Most are not even told when their parents die. Their life is reduced to this palace and these spectacles.”
She shuddered at the thought. “Surely not all do this.”
“No. Only a few. Others spend their time on petty rivalries and cruel revenges. Many have turned to religion, a few to music and poetry. And some others to this. I have seen as many as a dozen in that room, including eunuchs.”
“And how many watched from here?” she asked, at last able to turn away from the sight.
His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “I feared for the tree that night, so many were perched here or had climbed into the branches.”
Ji Yue didn’t dare look into his face when she asked her next question. She let her gaze drop to his corded neck while her fingers toyed with a rough tear in her skirt. “Have you ever joined the...the revelry in there?”
He shook his head. “I am a whole man. I would be killed were I to enter there.”
She lifted her gaze to see his face. There was a kind of mischief in his eyes, and she knew the truth. “You have joined them there!” she accused.
He shook his head. “Never. I swear.”
“But you have done something. You have the same look my brothers have when they have stolen tarts.”
He grinned, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I have been on this platform with women who are not protected virgins.” He leaned forward and touched her face. She was on her knees before him while he braced his back against the tree. His pose was languid, his gaze hot. Then he slowly let his hand slip down from her cheek and lower until he brushed across her nipple.
Her buttocks tightened at that, but she didn’t move away. She hadn’t stopped thinking about what they had done in the physician’s room. About where he had touched her.
And so she stayed still on her knees before him while hisother hand slid up her bare thigh. The rips in her skirt gave him many places to touch, many places to burrow. She felt his hand curve around her bottom. She was naked there beneath her skirt. And he had plenty of room to slip deeper in.
“Have you ever experienced what those women do? Have you ever felt the tremors rack your body as you cry out in joy?”
She shook her head. Never had she done such things.
“You were so creamy before,” he said. His hand moved around then, curving over her thigh and slipping between her legs. “Has seeing this made it so again? Do you even understand what I am asking?”
“No,” she breathed, though she gave no power to the word because, of course, she did understand in part. Her thighs were wet, and her womb quivered in desire. And she had thought so much of these things, even before entering the Forbidden City. She had seen dogs in copulation, heard the moans from her parents’ bedroom, and even watched as servants met in secret in the back garden. She did know some, and she wondered about more. She most especially wondered what it would be like to experience such a thing with him.
Behind them, the concubines’ cries were reaching a fever pitch. And in the darkness of their tree bower, Ji Yue let her legs spread the tiniest bit. Then a bit further as his fingers delved deeper.
It was the knuckle of his index finger, she believed, that pushed against her first. She gasped in shock and had to grip his shoulders to steady herself. But that lifted her higher up, which gave him more room as he stroked between her petals.
“Yes,” he said, “I believe you have been using your cream again.”
Blood roared in her ears, and her cheeks burned hot. “I have not,” she whispered. It was a feeble protest. Her attention was centered on where his long finger stroked, rolling ever soslowly from front to back. Every knuckle made her shiver, and she released a high keen of surprise.
“You should not do this,” she said. But she did not push him away.
“No man has ever touched you like this?” he asked. He was leaning forward, his words a husky whisper against her cheek. She felt the moist heat of his words and shivered, though more for what he did between her thighs. “You have never done this to yourself?”
“Never,” she said. If only she’d known what it felt like before. If only she’d learned how to do it before. Her skin seemed to pulse, and her body throbbed. “But it is wrong.”
