her fingers slowly massaging his back and shoulders, her body still vibrating under his, the only thought in her mind that he had been hers and soon she would be his. She marveled again at how fully he had filled her, how his savage thrusts had brought her such pleasure.
He rolled them both to their sides, and, kissing her soft, wet lips, he placed his leg between hers, his hand gently fondling a breast grown large with desire. In moments, she was driving her vagina against his leg, her body shuddering with pent up passion, the fingers of her hand wrapped around his penis. Faster and faster she masturbated against his leg, her breath coming out harshly as she climbed her mountain to orgasm. Then her movements became jagged thrusts as she flung herself against him, her eyes now tightly closed.
Suddenly, she began to moan. These were critical moments, he knew. He had lost her more than once in the past, and had learned that feeling rather than raw sex was needed now, “I love you, my darling,” he whispered.
She came at once, her entire body leaping against his, her lips kissing him here and there, short cries of animal pleasure sounding between her gasps for breath. Little by little, her movements became less demanding, then she stopped and lay lank, her face resting on his chest, her breasts heaving from her exertions.
He stroked her body gently, as she had done to him. “I adore it when you come,” he said. “It feels like I own you.”
“You do. I knew it from the first time we made love.”
He pinched her rump. “Do I own you because I have sex with you?”
She laughed, rolling to her back and letting her head sink deep into a pillow. “Of course. Just because you are the handsomest man I have ever known, and certainly the most intelligent, and just because I love you with every fiber of my being, well, all that has no bearing whatsoever on a good poke.” She laughed again and rolled on top of him. She kissed his lips, then lifted her head to look into his eyes. “I will always love you, my beloved, even if we never make love again. And you will own me completely, forever. I want you to always know that.”
“I do, my darling.”
She rested her head on his chest. “I hurt your leg when I make love, don’t I?”
He would not lie to her. “Not really. It gets sore for a minute or two, but I’m so engrossed in watching you enjoy yourself that I rarely think of it.”
“Truthfully now. Does it bother you that I must come like that?”
“Why should it?”
“Oh, you know, the male’s conceit being frustrated by being unable to climax the woman on the end of his penis.” She shrugged. “The woman having to masturbate to bring it off.”
He knew better than to chuckle or to pass it off lightly. “I’m masturbating also, Katrine. It’s just that I’m doing it inside of you.”
She raised her head and looked levelly at him, her brow wrinkled as she digested his comment. “That’s quite true,” she finally said, lowering her head again onto his chest. “I’ve never thought of it in that sense before.” She was silent for a few seconds. “But you are doing it the conventional way.”
“Who decided it is the conventional way?”
“It’s the way you make babies, and that’s supposedly the primary function of poking.”
“How do you know that people didn’t poke from the rear in the past? Like almost every animal does?”
She shifted to his side and began caressing his chest. “Are there other animals who do it from the front also?” she asked idly.
Hershel chuckled. No wonder he loved her. “I don’t really know,” he said. “Let me think. Wait, some of the crustaceans do. The lobsters, certainly, and I think the crayfish. And, oh yes, spiders. There are others, I’m sure.”
She lay peacefully still for a while. “Will you do it from the rear the next time?”
He drew her closer. “If you wish.”
“Good.” She placed a leg over his hips and snuggled against him. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too.”
In almost no time at all, they were both asleep.
CHAPTER 6
They ate supper in the long, formal dining room. Katrine had prepared a pheasant roasted with berries, with side dishes of various vegetables, and a bottle of champagne resting in a cooler. Hershel was delighted to see white asparagus in a prominent place.
“Where did you get these?” he asked.
“Teddy got them from Germany. You once mentioned how good they were, so I asked him to search them down.” She placed a number of them on his plate. “Why are they white?”
“The farmers cover the tips with soil the moment they come through the ground. Ergo, no sun, no green.”
When they had eaten, she served strawberries with thick cream, then demi tasses of coffee.
Sated, they leaned back to smoke the fierce Turkish cigarettes she favored.
“Hershel.” He looked at her with fondness. “What do you plan to do this time?”
Hershel wiped his mouth with a damask serviette. “I need one box of leaflets taken to Minsk, and two to Kiev.”
“That won’t be a bother.” She rose and refilled his cup with more coffee, then resumed her chair. She cocked her head at him. “I’ve been trying to figure you out ever since we met. Are you really a socialist?”
“All the way.”
“What do you really want? From Russia, I mean?”
“I want the vital services of the country, the railroads, postal system, banks, and all the important industries, such as mines, factories, and food distribution agencies owned and operated by a governmental organization responsive totally to the people.”
“The Tzar would never permit that, and you know it.”
“Then why do you help me?”
A half smile played on her lips. “I’m in love with you.”
He blew her a kiss. “The Tzar would spank you with a heavy hand if you were caught.” He knew it would be more than a heavy hand, irrespective of her noble rank and relationship to the Tzar himself. She was a first cousin, once removed, of his Exalted Majesty. But despotic rule is related only to power.
At first, Hershel was delighted with his conquest. It was nigh impossible to achieve his mission without help from the indigents, whether it was in Russia or Poland or Lithuania, and to have a confederate who could move about with the greatest of ease and meet with salutes from train conductors and customs officers and police instead of the usual surly, suspicious checks, was fortunate indeed. He had drawn her into his affairs without disconcert, but somewhere along the line he had awakened to realize he was truly in love with her. It was actually nothing
