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time.
He’d heard all sorts of stories in the palace about princesses who flaunted
authority, who took lovers without shame. He’d never thought it of this
princess, but it didn’t matter now.
    They moved together, clinging to one another. He shoved the
canvas flap aside and the darkness of the tent closed over them. He untied his
sash and pulled his tunic open before reaching for An-Ming. He felt her touch
momentarily against his chest, pressing softly just above his heart.
    More pulling and loosening of cloth. The moment’s delay
stretched on for too long before his hands were on bare skin, running up the
curve of a knee, the softness of her inner thigh. He parted her, stroking deep
with just his fingertips in that most sensitive place where heaven lay
waiting.
    She gasped, her breath hitching on a sibilant cry that went
straight to his groin. Her legs curved naturally around his hips while her mouth
sought his. Every part of her body was urging him on. Commanding him. He
positioned himself, his organ hard against soft flesh, his mind a storm. He
thought fleetingly that she was a princess, that she was inexperienced…that he
had a duty. Then he was inside her.
    She closed around him, hot and tight. He abandoned all other
thought in the wake of the dark pleasure. He began to move in slow, gradual
thrusts. An-Ming consumed him and he gave himself over to her. For the first
time in years, he no longer questioned where he belonged.

Chapter Five
    Dao closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of
Kwan-Li inside her. He was holding her, kissing her. His weight anchored her to
the rug. This first time taking another person into her body was…confusing. The
heat, the pressure. The feeling of being stretched and invaded. The longing. The
pain. The strange pleasure beneath it.
    She was being taken. Undeniably so. His every movement radiated
through her. The coupling was rough and hungry and unapologetic. Yet when his
tongue touched hers, desire curled through her, making her want the things he
was doing to her even more.
    Soon the pleasure outweighed the pain. Soon there was no more
telling what was what in the darkness. There was nothing but the harsh rhythm of
their breathing, his weight above her, and a feeling of being anchored and held
to the earth while the heavens spun around her.
    She pressed her lips to his throat, feeling the pulse that
pounded there.
    Dao was never one to be taken with romantic notions, but she
wanted this. She wanted this. Her body strained against him, becoming
single-minded with need.
    His thrusts became more forceful. Kwan-Li was flying headlong
toward completion. The women gossiped in the servants’ quarters saying that this
was the usual way of the bedchamber. Fast. Urgent. Satisfactory for the man,
perhaps sometimes for the woman.
    Kwan-Li took hold of her hips and shifted them. She was angled
up and against him. His hold on her was confident as he slid deeper, his
movement within her changing to assail her with a new rush of sensation. He was
pushing her to a peak, willing her climax. She ran her hands along the
sweat-slicked planes of his back, digging in to urge him on. Her back arched in
a plea for more. In that moment, she surrendered herself completely to him, yet
her body, this pleasure, was selfishly her own. She cried out into the darkness
as every muscle in her tightened and a flood of pleasure gripped her.
    He continued thrusting into her as she convulsed around him.
Kwan-Li buried his face against her neck, his breath harsh with exertion. His
muscles clenched tight as he finally allowed himself his own release.
    In the stillness afterward, he remained on top of her, heavy
and indolent. Their pulses combined in a mismatched rhythm. Dao ran her hand
over the contours of his back, appreciating the musculature beneath the warm
skin. The dusky light played delightfully over him. He was lean in build,
brimming with wiry strength. The years of living in the empire hadn’t