The Elf Who Wants to Defeat Theorad (3)
Beynon had meant his question seriously.
The slave Theorad was talking about was the elf. She had silver hair that shone like silk in sunlight and red eyes like polished gemstones. Her fine features and well-proportioned figure were striking enough to make even women renowned for their beauty seem plain by comparison.
The servants often described her as beautiful as a goddess. Apart from her sharp temper, she might have passed for someone straight out of a heavenly painting.
And yet here was Theorad, looking as though the prospect of having sex with her were a death sentence.
Beynon knew nothing of the elf's true nature, so he couldn't make sense of it.
That was precisely Theorad's predicament. He couldn't tell his knight the truth, which made the whole thing even more miserable.
“Beynon. I'm not joking.”
He sighed over his glass. Ice shifted against the sides, making the brandy ripple.
“I can't explain the particulars, but this is serious. Please don't make fun of me.”
Isn't the young master the one making fun of me?
Beynon was still baffled. But Theorad was his lord, and the knight had sworn to serve him. He decided to take the request seriously, or at least appear to.
“What's so dreadful about it? Other men spend fortunes for a night with the woman they desire.”
“You're right. Under ordinary circumstances, I suppose that's true.”
“Then… are you worried about how well you'll do?”
Theorad glanced around and nodded cautiously.
Ah. Now I understand.
He's worried he won't be able to satisfy his slave.
Beynon had heard that strong-willed slaves sometimes defied their masters after intimate encounters. Some masters answered defiance with violence—even stabbing a slave's hand to stop further resistance. Theorad was far too decent to do something so cruel.
So perhaps he hoped to establish his authority through sexual skill instead.
It was the wrong explanation, but to Beynon, ignorant of the elf's identity and power, it seemed reasonable.
Well, I can help with that.
He folded his arms with renewed confidence.
“In that case, why not use adult products? That's the quickest way to gain the upper hand.”
“The shops are closed.”
“All of them?”
“I checked several others on my way back. Apparently the news that the Black Flame Witch has returned has driven everyone to shut their doors for now.”
“Ah. Most of those shops are run by witches…”
Of all the times for such bad luck.
Beynon drummed a finger against his forearm and gave Theorad a questioning look.
“Then why not postpone the encounter?”
“…I can't. I promised we'd have sex in two days.”
“You promised?”
What master made a solemn appointment for sex with a slave? It was strange, but also so characteristic of Theorad's conscientious nature that Beynon found himself unable to laugh.
“Then I suppose you'll have to rely on your own ability. Is that why you called me?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Theorad lifted his glass, took a mouthful of brandy, then grimaced at the bitterness and set it down.
“Can someone learn those skills? I mean… sexual technique?”
“It won't be easy, but learning something is better than nothing. Even a few small tricks could help.”
Beynon raised his right hand and waggled his fingers suggestively.
“Why don't we start with these?”
Theorad stared at the hand.
“Your fingers?”
Beynon smiled knowingly.
“Sex is more than thrusting and finishing, young master. For giving a woman pleasure beforehand, a man's fingers can be extraordinarily useful.”
“I'm sorry, Beynon. I don't understand. What exactly would I do with my fingers?”
“All right. Let me give you an example first.”
Beynon rested an arm across the table.
“When someone plays a musical instrument, what part of the body do they use most?”
“Their fingers, generally.”
“Exactly. The more skillfully they move, the finer the music. You could say the same of pleasing a woman.”
Beynon leaned forward, smiling like a man about to reveal a great secret.
“If the music is good enough, the instrument will want to yield itself to the musician. Understand?”
“…I think I understand the comparison. You mean you can teach me to do that?”
“Naturally. First, you'll need to know how to stimulate the clitoris, one of a woman's most sensitive places—”
He stopped.
Theorad was watching him with an expression of such earnest innocence that Beynon suddenly had doubts.
Oh, no.
He leaned back a little.
“Young master. You do know what the clitoris is, don't you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“Must I really say it aloud?”
“You're the one who asked me to teach you.”
Theorad hesitated, then lowered his gaze.
“Isn't it… inside a woman's vagina? I've read erotic books before. I know that much.”
“And what does it look like? Where, exactly, would you find it?”
“Well… that…”
Theorad had been sure he knew. But the moment he tried to explain, his mind went blank.
Do I actually know?
Beynon chuckled and sank back into his chair.
“It seems we'd better start at the beginning. Do you have some paper and a quill? I can draw a rough diagram while I explain.”
“You would? Thank you. Just a moment.”
Color returned to Theorad's face as he rose and went to the drawer.
Beynon watched him with growing concern.
I'm worried about you, young master…
Setting aside the question of his slave, Theorad would one day be married to Lady Ashley. Would he even know how to approach his wedding night?
It wasn't Beynon's problem, but he couldn't help worrying.
Two days later.
Theorad climbed the stairs of the mansion, fully prepared for his appointment with the elf.
His destination was her room. Their previous sexual encounter had taken place in his room, but this time she had asked him to come to hers. He couldn't see how changing rooms would make a difference, but it had been her request.
Tap. Tap.
He checked his clothes as he climbed. There was nothing wrong with them; his hands simply refused to remain still.
On the fourth floor, he headed toward the elf's room.
Today the shabby, oft-repaired door seemed more frightening than ever.
Will I be able to do this properly?
His mouth felt dry. He wanted to turn around and run, but he was convinced the elf would beat him mercilessly if he did.
Inside, the elf was nervous too.
He's coming…
She waited on her old bed, alert to every sound. She had loosened her clothes in preparation for the encounter, leaving the upper curve of her breasts exposed. A melon-flavored candy rested in her hand—one more secret weapon.
She hadn't spent the two days of Theorad's lessons with Beynon doing nothing. She had prepared a strategy of her own.
This time I'll definitely defeat him.
She clenched her free hand into a fist.
Knock, knock.
The sound came from the door.
What should I say?
After a moment of frantic indecision, the elf straightened her back and cleared her throat.
“Come in, Master.”
The door opened. For several awkward seconds, the two simply looked at each other.
She doesn't seem to have prepared anything, Theorad thought.
No adult products. He came empty-handed? the elf wondered.
Each privately concluded that the other had done little preparation, and each felt a small surge of confidence.
“Did you wash yourself?” Theorad asked.
He entered and shut the door, trying to sound stern.
“Of course. And you, Master?”
“Don't make me answer every little thing, you insolent wretch.”
He snorted, took off his jacket and tossed it onto the desk. Beynon had advised him to project an air of masculine confidence; this was his attempt.
As he approached in his shirt, the elf drew her feet back, momentarily alarmed.
Don't let him control the pace.
She was certain that whoever seized the initiative would win.
That was why she'd prepared the candy.
“If Viscount Theorad has a favorite food or keepsake, try connecting it to a more sensual experience.”
She had decided to give Lerazie's advice one more chance.
The elf lifted the sweet. Theorad's eyes followed it immediately.
“Candy? What for?”
“Master said he likes candy.”
She peeled off the wrapper and put the melon-flavored candy into her own mouth.
Theorad hesitated.
If she knows I like it, why is she eating it?
He couldn't understand the gesture, which only made him more suspicious.
Enjoying his attention, the elf slowly extended her tongue. The candy, wet with saliva, rolled off it.
It landed on her chest, in a position certain to draw his eyes.
Convinced her strategy was working, she cupped her breasts and lifted them slightly.
“Master. Please eat it.”
What?
Theorad was too startled to respond.
A strange smile spread across the elf's lips. In the silence that followed, she narrowed her eyes and spoke in her most seductive voice.
“Come on…”