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What was it Cara had said?
You must do your part in this—indulge in this.
Drefan had indulged. He had been satisfied. Nadine certainly was indulging. Richard must have.
Kahlan hadn’t. She hadn’t “indulged.”
She dismissed the idea. It had to be something else. Maybe the winds were just waiting for Nadine to finally have enough. That would fit the way the Temple of the Winds had done everything else, twisting the pain for Richard and Kahlan. Making them suffer.
As the night dragged on, and recollecting Cara’s words about indulging, Kahlan thought again about the time she had been with Richard in that place between worlds. She had felt the kind of pleasure that other woman felt—the indulgence not only in love, but in lust.
Kahlan had been so frustrated lately, waiting to be with Richard, waiting for that closeness again, waiting to be married to him so they could be together as husband and wife. Waiting for that satisfaction again. It was so near, she had been so close, so ready, and then it all fell apart, leaving her hopes dashed and needs unfulfilled.
Now, for the first time, she was free of her Confessor’s power, free to take pleasure from a man, not for love, but for the sheer indulgence of pleasure. She was free to enjoy what other women enjoyed. Here she was, lying next to her husband, and not an unattractive man at all, and she was feeling frustration for the need of Richard.
Was she to live the rest of her life being denied a simple pleasure of life that she was now free to indulge?
But she didn’t love Drefan. Without love, the passion was empty.
Still, it was passion, and if not ideal, at least she could have that much satisfaction. The spirits had taken everything else from her. They had taken Richard, the only thing she really wanted out of life. Would she let them take simple pleasure, too?
What else had she, now?
This was her husband. She was condemned to live the rest of her life with him. Must it be without at least some small release of pent-up need? Wasn’t she entitled to at least that much after all she had sacrificed? They had taken everything else from her: her only love in life; her Confessor’s power.
You must do your part in this—indulge in this.
What if that was why the winds hadn’t come? What if it was because she hadn’t indulged?
Drefan rolled over on his stomach and sighed. He was frustrated by the wait, too. Or maybe he was tending to his auras.
She thought about Drefan’s tight trousers, and the way she caught herself looking. Drefan was a handsome man; he was built like Richard. Drefan was her husband.
Her anger at the spirits for taking everything from her was what finally made something inside her snap. This was all she had. She was entitled to this much—to release.
When her hand touched Drefan’s back, he jumped. Kahlan smoothed her hand across the muscles of his back, and he settled. She let herself feel his muscles, as she used to feel Richard’s muscles, feel his shape. She took a deep breath, and she let herself go.
Kahlan’s hand moved down Drefan’s back. She gritted her teeth as she gripped his buttocks. They were as tight as they looked in his trousers. She was lucky, she guessed; the spirits could have insisted that she marry a repulsive man. Instead, they had insisted that she marry Drefan, and he was far from repulsive. He wasn’t as handsome as Richard, no one was as handsome to her as Richard, but woman were always fawning over Drefan. Now, he was her husband. He had pledged to be loyal to her. She had pledged to be loyal to him.
This was the only pleasure she was to be allowed. This was all the spirits had left her. At least she could have this much—have what she was entitled to.
Kahlan seized Drefan’s hip and rolled him over, toward her. She hooked her leg over his, and let her hand roam over his chest. Drefan didn’t react. Maybe he was surprised by her change of behavior. Maybe he was confused. She would have to unconfuse him. She gently pinched one of his nipples, then let her hand slide across his flat stomach, and down.
Kahlan found that Drefan was in no condition to do her any good. If she wanted to have her pleasure, she would have to change that.
She kissed his chest. She trailed wet kisses down his stomach. His breathing seemed slow. Kahlan felt frustrated anger than he wasn’t taking the hint. She was tired of being frustrated, while everyone else wasn’t.
She decided that if she wanted to have satisfaction, it was up to her to see to it that she got what she wanted. No one would give it to her—she would have to take it. Kahlan let her tongue, her kisses, glide the rest of the way down Drefan’s taut belly.
When she took him in her mouth, she tasted her own blood. She forced herself to ignore the taste as she urged him to react.
At first she thought he wasn’t going to, but when she lost herself in the erotic nature of what she was doing, he finally did. He came back as strong as before.
By the time Drefan was fully ready, Kahlan was panting with need. Once she had decided to have her pleasure, she became insistent. Drefan was her husband now. It was his duty to fulfill her needs, too, not just his own.
Kahlan’s head was spinning with the want of release. That it was Drefan no longer mattered. In her mind, she imagined it was Richard. At that thought, she moaned with longing and climbed atop him, straddling his hips.
This time, she was ready to accept him. This time, she wanted him. She shut it out of her mind that this was Drefan and imagined it was Richard. Since she couldn’t see Drefan’s blue eyes, it wasn’t hard to envision it was Richard, instead.
She remembered the things she did with Richard, and did those things. She relived that experience in her imagination. Her mouth gaped. She gasped for air. Sweat ran down her body as she moved atop him, writhing forcefully against him.
Drefan was panting now, too. She needed to have release from all the frustration that had built up for so long—all the times she had kissed Richard, and wanted to do more; all the times he had touched her, and she had wanted him to do more. Now, he was.
Kahlan leaned forward, to kiss him. Drefan turned his face away. She scooped her arm under his head, and held him to her chest, instead. His face felt hot against her breasts. The roughness of his unshaved face excited her as she slid her sweaty flesh against him. It made her pant all the more.
She was just about to scream at him to put his hands on her, when she remembered that she wasn’t allowed to utter so much as a word. She seized his wrist and put first one hand where she wanted it, and then the other, to hold her bottom while she moved—so she could imagine it was Richard holding her again, needing her. She wanted to feel him gripping her in his big hands while she moved.
For the first time since she had last been with Richard, she felt wild pleasure, wild lust, a wild, desperate need. That it was with Drefan no longer mattered to her. She wanted only release.
It came with stunning, ridged shivers. Her sharp moan shook her shoulders. Her legs stiffened to stone. Her toes clawed. She slammed herself down on him as the wanton fulfillment of lust inundated her. She gave herself over to it completely, and with helpless, unbridled abandon let it run free. She gasped sharply again, the cry following in the echoing wake of the first. It seemed that it lasted an eternity, as if it was almost too much to endure. With a final
convulsion, it subsided. At last, it was over.
For one twisting moment, she had been free. There was no plague, no people dying, no responsibility, no duty, no marriage to Drefan, no Nadine. For that one moment, she had been free of it all, and she had been immersed in gratification. For that one moment, her heart and her lust had been with Richard again.
Kahlan collapsed to the side of Drefan, panting, getting her wind back, pushing her wet hair back off her face. It occurred to her that he hadn’t reached any satisfaction this second time. She didn’t care. She had. At the moment, that was all that mattered: sweet release.
For a wonderful moment, she had been free of everything, and had been with her love, if only in her imagination. Kahlan realized that she was weeping with the joy of it.
She lay on her side, turned away from Drefan, as she recovered. She wiped the tears of pleasure from her face. In the absence of need, she unexpectedly began to feel ashamed.
Dear spirits, what had she just done? She had enjoyed herself, that was all. She had needed the release. Then why did she suddenly feel so dirty?
Distant thunder rumbled toward them. A hint of embedded lightning flickered in the sky. Kahlan looked up, out the windows. Another flash, closer, ripped through the insides of the roiling clouds, briefly lighting the mountaintop.
From the other building, Kahlan heard a long scream from Nadine. Kahlan blocked it from her mind. As much as Nadine’s scream rankled Kahlan, it at least didn’t leave her as frustrated as it had before.
Three more screams came from Nadine. Short, piercing, urgent. Kahlan pressed her hands to her ears. Nadine had made her point, couldn’t she just let it be, now?
The wind came up, abruptly, as if a great, huge door had opened. The blast of air hit like an avalanche. The building shuddered. The entire mountain quaked.
Kahlan propped herself up on her elbows, peering out the windows. Distant lightning flickered through the turbulent clouds. Thunder rumbled, reverberating through the mountains. Each strike came a little closer.
