"Janet Morris - Silistra 3 - Wind from the Abyss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

"If you live, you might learn to serve a man properly. You misunderstand me,
or I give you more understanding of life here than you have." He sat up, and
pulled me by the hair into his lap.
"I had not intended to breed you again. If I do decide to do so, you may not
survive it. I am not in need of a contentious, undisciplined female. Either
you will become otherwise, or I will have to breed you to justify your
existence."
"Have to?" I asked. My terror of pregnancy and that of death balanced even.
"You are coming up for assessment. I must follow my own rules, if I expect
others to obey them." I shivered, buried my head in his lap. I thought
WIND FROM THE ABYSS
15
of what I had read; I could not help it. I waited for the pain of his
displeasure. It did not come. His hand went around my throat, lifted my head.
He bent and pressed his lips to mine. I felt him move against my thigh. My
hand sought him, and he allowed it. He bent his bite to my nipples, erect and
waiting.
Something, within me, turned and rustled in that couching, and halfway through
it, when I choked and gagged on him, it woke itself to my aid. I shifted
position, arched my neck slightly, and my discomfort disappeared. Easily,
sure, I worked upon him, my lips against the very root of him, my nose in his
golden hairs. And he shuddered and his hands came upon the back of my neck,
and I let him slide forward, that I might get the taste of him. As he pulsed
in my mouth, I ran my tongue, fast, hard, up and down the underside of him.
And the dharen moaned and twisted, his hands convulsive upon me.
When he cursed, softly, laughing, I sat up to see him. My strangeness still
upon me, I noted his fine-chiseled lips, swollen with his heat. Then I bent
again, licking, nipping, and took from him that last aftertaste.
By criteria I had not known before, I read his body's response, my cheek
against his hard belly, that I might feel his excitement, judge it by the
wane.
"Tell me again, dharen, what you might do to ane, if I cannot sufficiently
please you." And I heard my voice, deeper and more upon breath, and it seemed
to me that it was a stranger's voice, with an accent I could not place.
He grunted, sat slowly. He cuffed me lightly, pushed my head from his lap,
crossing his legs under him. I regarded him, discerningly, and found him not
wanting. ' "Insolent saiisa," he growled, grinning.
16
Janet E. Morris
And I knew the word's meaning, though it is man-slang, and Carth never spoke
crudely. The word means coin girl, of the cheapest variety and questionable
skill.
"I wish I were even that, rather than living my life in that chamber," I said,
the mood gone, and with it that odd confidence and comfort.
"You may have the both of them, yours and mine, for a while." His eyes probed
mine. "Is that one of those things a woman instinctively knows?" he asked, and
I knew what he meant, but I had no answer. I smoothed the rumpled couch silks.
"Perhaps I read it," I said. I wanted to crawl into his lap, curl into a ball,
and sleep. More than I had wanted the child out of me, even, I wanted his
approval. I recalled those nights, alone, I had cried myself to sleep over