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Empress Chabi had known upon first glance that this was the woman she had wanted, watching her move the silk in her hands with ease and expertise, with Ahmed whispering at her side. Coming up with an excuse to get the woman alone in bed had been no matter. She is here now.
There is no need for excuses any longer.
Mei Lin stands still, poised. Her hair spreads over her shoulders, long and straight and black as the night. To Chabi, it seems the woman is as silent as the moon, as stone – a statue with neither breath nor life. It is unnerving, but Chabi finds beauty in the stillness. There is something exquisite lying under the surface of Mei Lin's skin. Besides, all her favorite trinkets are made of stone.
The empress reaches out a hand, a single finger extending shadows in the dim flickering light of the lamps. "Come, Mei Lin," she coaxes, her voice soft.
"If it please the empress," Mei Lin breathes. She takes a single step forward until she is close enough to touch – no, not to touch. To graze. To feel the warmth of her skin without being able to grasp it.
It is maddening.
Mei Lin leans forward, her knees touching the cold floor at the edge of the bed until the empress's hand is touching her lips. There is no color staining them now, yet the gentle rosy pink is still visible in the dark. Mei Lin parts her unpainted lips and takes the single finger between her teeth.
Her tongue is warm, wet. The angles of her face are predator, hungry.
Chabi finds herself wanting quite abruptly to be devoured.
With half-closed lids, Chabi watches as the woman kneels and closes her mouth around the finger, pressing the flat of her tongue to it, her cheekbones hollow as she sucks. Her teeth graze the second knuckle lightly and Chabi inhales sharply.
"You have been formally trained," Chabi observes, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Mei Lin does not respond, but her eyes follow Chabi as the empress sits up from her throne of soft silks and pillows. She allows the older woman to withdraw the finger. She licks her lips. They glisten in the glow of firelight.
"Stand," this time her voice is a command.
As she rises to her feet, Chabi once again notices the fluidity Mei Lin moves with, her spine flexible in the way a stream of water manages to be. Chabi's gaze settles on the peaks of her breasts, hard with arousal, and continues down her flat stomach, her rounded hips and the bones of her waist jutting from soft skin. The empress stands herself, her robe still loosely draped around both shoulders.
"Who taught you the art?" Chabi asks, drawn to Mei Lin, their faces mere inches apart. It cannot be denied – it is art.
She doesn't reply, only smirks and presses her lips to Chabi's softly, so soft that when she pulls away only a second later, she isn't sure if the touch occurred or if she had dreamed it. Chabi's breath catches in her throat, and then Mei Lin's lips are back, this time with increasing insistent pressure until she parts her mouth and allows the woman access.
There is poetry in her touch, surely, in her lust-filled dark eyes, in the light reflecting off her irises.
Mei Lin's hands graze over the knots of the robe, the fabric giving away under long dexterous fingers. The lace comes undone and the first chill of the night air reaches Chabi. She barely feels the cold.
Carefully, Mei Lin pushes down the sleeve, first one shoulder then the other, the feel of soft cloth followed by her even softer lips kissing their way down both arms and the insides of her wrists, on the flat of her worn palm.
Dropping the robe and pushing the empress back onto the bed, Mei Lin questions, "Shall I show you what I have learned?"
Chabi nods and relaxes back into her sheets. She lets her eyelids flutter shut, giving up control.
Mei Lin closes in the space between them.
The woman is silk and sand, softly pouring over Chabi like viscous honey. She is smooth as she melts across Chabi's body, she is rough as her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh of Chabi's throat, tongue lazily tracing its way down her neck and pausing at her nipples, fingers caressing her breast until the empress has to bite her tongue from gasping aloud. Tiny goose bumps rise in response and a shiver runs up the length of her spine.
Every rib is a step down, but Mei Lin lingers at each one, lavishing attention to Chabi's body like she cannot remember happening before. Her fingers ghost over the empress's flesh, raising tiny hairs that make the empress want to shiver in delight, skimming down her legs, a single finger running up the arch of her foot.
Breath already quickening, Chabi moans from the heat pooling deep in her belly.
Mei Lin's mouth is hot but gentle as it finds her wet.
Chabi squeezes her eyes shut as the very first caress of Mei Lin's tongue sends a pang of heat from her toes up to her scalp, prickling with desire. She can feel a quickening start, low and visceral, and her breath stutters from her throat. Every breath is a sigh, and every sigh a prayer.
She does not realize when the other woman's tongue is replaced by a single finger, moving in and out of her slowly. Mei Lin leaves a trail of kisses from the empress's thighs, up her waist, and to the tendons in her neck as she works another finger in to join the first. Burying her face in the crevice of Chabi's throat and shoulder, Mei Lin's fingers bend inside the empress and move faster, nearly desperate, a rhythm Chabi recognizes instantly as her heartbeat throbbing in her veins.
"Come, my empress," the words are whispered, barely existing between the inches of Mei Lin's mouth and Chabi's ear, but they are enough to drive her over the edge.
She comes against Mei Lin's palm pushing into her.
Pleasure spirals sharply through her body and the empress cries out wordlessly, back arching, hands tightly gripping the silk sheets. Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat, but Mei Lin seems entirely unfazed.
There is a fire in Mei Lin's eyes that Chabi is surprised to find ignites warmth in her belly. It is rare to find a woman with the skills Mei Lin possesses and still an untampered spirit. Suddenly, Chabi wants terribly to press her mouth to the other woman's. Almost as if she reads her thoughts, Mei Lin leans down and kisses her, salty and wet, a slight soft sound when she pulls away like the pools in the gardens.
The empress takes a moment to let herself wallow in the pleasure she had just received.
Mei Lin murmurs, "I hope I have pleased the empress well."
"Tell me, do you enjoy your time here?" Chabi asks.
There is the strange stillness in Mei Lin's body once more. Chabi understands it now. It is a mask. To hide, perhaps, the fire she had glimpsed briefly in the throes of passion. But now her mask, her silence is back.
"My empress," Mei Lin bows, "I am but one of many in the great Khan's harem. I will do everything in my power to give the Khan and the empress all that they could ever want."
It's the kind of answer that doesn't tell Chabi anything at all. Chabi dislikes the use of Khan and empress in the same sentence. She doesn't want to share.
"Would you prefer to be moved elsewhere?" Chabi lets a slow smile cross her face. "Perhaps in an adjacent room to the royal chambers, somewhere you would be only a call away from me?"
"I am not worthy," Mei Lin replies, but her eyebrows draw closer and the empress can see her suggestion has sparked something in the other woman.
Empress Chabi nods. "It is decided then. Ahmed will come to collect you and your belongings. You will be given chambers here, access to the gardens and bath chambers – and you will attend to me when a pillow companion is needed."
"It would be my honor, empress."
Chabi reaches out and strokes Mei Lin's hair, soft strands gossamer to the touch. She presses a kiss to the corner of the woman's mouth, and parting, whispers, "Now, let us return to the task at hand. There's a long night ahead of us."