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

He stripped off his breech. I saw very still, watching the play of muscles
across his back.
"Once," he said softly, straightening up, "you asked me to teach you your
femaleness. I thought you too weak, then. I did what needed done, and nothing
more. Doubtless your failure to function as a woman lies partly upon me, I am
going to attempt to remedy the situation before it kills you."
But when he came toward me, I could not do it.
I could not sit and let him vent his anger upon me. I fled, as far as he
allowed. When he chose, I found myself imprisoned within my own body, and it,
of its own accord, returning to him. He stood calmly by the couch and took my
flesh from my control. I could not speak. I found myself at his feet, my head
pressed to the mat.
He let me try those bonds, for a while, let me dance upon the brink of
madness. When he took his will from my limbs, I did not move.
He flipped me casually onto my back, crouching down, menacing. His large head
came close to mine.
"Lie still, and do as you are told. Only that, no more." And I did so, until I
forgot, in my need, his instruction. The taste of blood in my mouth, the flat
of his hand against my searching lips, reminded me. I laid my head back
against his thigh as my body leaped to him, pleading, I heard my voice
repeating things he had bade me say, without understanding. And later, when
his teeth and tongue were upon me, did I beg for his use. And I did for him
what I had not known a man would ask of a woman, whimpering. And he, raised on
stiff arms above me, laughed. As he thrust into me, I sobbed his name, my love
for him, my need. And then his weight came down and I could but cling to him
as he rocked me. When I thought my bones would shatter, he grunted, shivered,
and lay still.
He stayed with me, holding his weight upon one arm, stroking my hair back from
my forehead.
"I needed you so much when I had the child within," I whispered.
"I know," he said. "I have a world to run." His , eyes narrowed. I felt him, I
thought, in my mind. : "Do you know how lonely it is for me, locked *p?"
"I can do nothing else with you." He rolled away,
14
Janet E. Morris
onto his side. "But I will be here. My works are progressing nicely. I need
not be elsewhere.
"I want you to understand something," he continued, taking me into his arms.
"I have what I wanted from you." His voice was gentle. His hands wandered my
hips. "I must see a radical change in your behavior to justify the trouble of
you. Carth tells me it is doubtful that you would survive another pregnancy."
"I do not take your meaning," I said numbly. "There are more than two thousand
forereaders at the Lake of Horns, many extremely attractive, all skilled and
cooperative. I cannot, for reasons I will not explain, put you in common
holding." I roiled away from him. "Did the child please you?" I asked. "Yes."
"But I do not." My voice shook. I had been breeding stock to him. I was no
^longer useful as such.
"No," he said. "You do not." "I did the best I could," I flared. "I am
ignorant of couch skills."
He laughed, touching my lips with his finger. "It was a start," he admitted.