Chapter 16: Sex, Drugs and Broadswords

Jiangdong. Midnight

Cynthia absently played with her hair as she sat by the banks of the river, clad in a peasant's dress that belonged to one of the corporal's wives. He had kindly lent it to her so that she could finally wash her filthy Claymore uniform at the creek. The night was late, and the other soldiers had retired to bed. She alone remained, hugging her knees close as Zhou Tai's Awakening face momentarily flashed in her mind.

Barefoot and slightly cold, her finger trailed musingly along the grass. She knew her foremost duty was to protect Wu from her Continent's Yoma. She would always hold that close to her heart as her prime responsibility. But for now, a far more urgent question lingered.

What did the General of Valour think of their budding relationship?

She wondered if he desired refuge under her since their struggle together at Chi Bi. He had never mentioned anything to do with his wife or his family before. Or perhaps… this stoic, silent, stalwart man had no family? She did not want to delude herself into believing that she was closer to him than anyone else. They had admittedly enjoyed many soft moments together thus far, despite not having consummated yet. She was yet to find the opportunity to raise the stakes. But their first kiss, accomplished in the midst of battle, was still the most memorable touch they shared. It had hardly been romantic – he was manic at the time, enraged, on the verge of becoming a true monster. Yet when she held him and tearfully begged him to remember who he was, his response was expressive of love. His claws, his fiendish hands, had been undeniably gentle. There was something… special about that.

She perked as footsteps became audible. She looked up to see him approaching, moving to join her by the quiet waterside. "What took you so long, Tai?" she chided earnestly. "I've been waiting."

"I have something for you," came his deep voice. His hands were behind his back, and his eyes were shy.

"What have you got there?" she asked, as he brought his arms around. His smile was slight but eager as he slowly opened his cupped palms, revealing a beautiful, radiant flower, carefully plucked from what could only have been a Chinese plum tree. She abruptly gasped, flattered and thrilled.

"Please accept it," he said clumsily. "It is called a zhaoshui mei, and one of our nation's most revered flora."

She gave a sigh of awed gratitude. "Oh, I thank you," she gushed, taking the budding flower from him and breathing in its aromatic scent, watching him embarrassedly all the while. "Could this be why you were late?"

Suddenly, she didn't feel so uncertain in their growing romance anymore.

Looking away, he sat on the grass, observing the glowing moon. "My men are acting strangely," he said quietly. "The way they look at me… is no longer the same. They must fear me, and understandably so. I was so foolish to lose control before my entire army. They witnessed my most terrible secret." He glanced at her, and she tilted her head invitingly. "I no longer have any right to ask you to keep it."

She cautiously laid aside his gift and curled her toes, hugging herself tighter. "I know it's difficult for you, and for the men. It must have been very frightening for them. And I guess it's going to be difficult for them to deal with… that their commander's not a pure human. But I think…" She blushed. "It's also because they saw something else." She reached for his hand. "Do you remember?"

He looked at her with a tenderness that was truly gorgeous. "I do."

She swallowed with difficulty. "That… big, fat kiss," she giggled softly. "I kissed you in front of your men. For a very good reason," she added quickly. "But, you know… I feel better kissing you while you're not Awakening."

He maintained his impassive face, although his eyes shone with mirth.

"I wanted you to stay," she continued quietly. "I… wanted you to stay with me. That was why I held you that day, when you almost left us. I didn't want you to become a monster. I wanted you to come to me, instead."

He stared at her. It was as if he was meeting her all over again, on that day before the Battle of Chi Bi and his fateful encounter with the Yoma. She had boarded his ship and introduced herself as a warrior who had come to protect China from a dire threat. She had complained that no one believed her, although she would help Wu regardless. She was determined to prove her worth as a fighter. But all this time, she had forgotten to remind him of one thing.

She was beautiful.

"Well?" she mumbled anxiously, and he almost jumped. "Please don't just gawp at me. Please answer. I want you to tell me… how you feel about us."

He bowed his head in shame. "I am sorry." The game was up. He should have known that while he was plucking a zhaoshui mei for her. What else did he want to imply? Unable to suppress a slight tremble, he raised his hands and removed his helm, revealing the long, noble hair that fluttered in the mild river breeze. His meditative eyes gazed at her. "I will answer you with another question, Cynthia of Pieta. It is this. Do you still wish for me to come to you? Do you still nurture that hope?"

His voice was hoarse. The confession of his yearning was inexperienced and unsophisticated, but truthful. "If you let me, I will do so."

She stared at him, her lips reddening in desire. Wordlessly, she beckoned him closer with a finger, and like a keen, handsome wolf, he obeyed. Their bodies, virgin to each other, touched. But already, she felt herself flushed with yearning. He was so adorable. He was so hard, so strong, so disciplined, with the gentility and softness of a well-behaved child, of a keen young boy. Her hands found his dented breastplate, and it frustrated her that he always wore his dark armour around, as if it was some kind of silly fashion statement. Even when Jean had walked in on them cuddling, it had taken many attempts to coax him into un-attaching his cold metal from his warm skin.

That would change. Starting tonight.

You'll look better naked, anyway.

"Let's remove all this," she murmured, feeling his shy hands on her waist. "I don't know enough. I want to know all about you. I want to know the man behind that brooding costume, and I want him to tell me everything." She looked up at him as he pulled her close, her eyes glimmering. "Take off your armour."

He reluctantly released her, and piece by scarred piece, his fingers worked his ebony protection, beginning with his gauntlets.

"Your shirt, too… and your undergarments. Everything," she demanded, watching him closely as he stripped for her, unattaching, discarding and laying aside the plates and cloth that covered his scarred, muscular body. Wide-eyed, she quietly licked her lips as his chiselled form became more and more exposed, from his broad shoulders to his sinewy, scarred abdomen to his athletic legs. His current bulk was the product of many years of excruciating training and war, but for some peculiar reason, those well-built muscles and painful scars only softened her heart further.

Underneath that frightening black armour, he was really this hurt.

He had taken far too long, but at last his hands – his glorious, bare, hands – were free to hold her again. He cuddled her, and she sighed in contentment. They kissed, their lips and tongues leisurely and bashfully exploring each other in silence. She slipped her dress off past her shoulders, and it lay forgotten as she felt him taking her naked body in his arms, his sturdy chest pressing gently against her breasts. "I'm sorry for my tummy's terrible scar," she mumbled insecurely.

He closed his eyes. "We both have one."

Of course. You have silver eyes, like me.

And at the touch of his lips, her cheeks flushed, her lips inflamed, and her nipples hardened. She purred, her slender fingers stroking the back of his hair as their noses nuzzled against each other. "Please," she whispered, her hand wandering down his washboard abdominal muscles and past his powerful pelvis. She carefully took his powerful manhood in her hand, and to her amusement, it had already stiffened. She smiled as she elicited a low grunt from the commander. "Make love to me, sweet warrior."

He tenderly and respectfully lifted her and laid her by the soft, ticklish grass, his stoic expression reserved and uncertain. His hands moved nervously, as if he was afraid he could hurt her. He glanced at her, as if seeking approval.

She giggled. "Oh, please hurry. What are you waiting for?"

He looked relieved as he dipped down. She laughed, and her womanhood rapidly moistened at the touch of his calloused and weathered fingers. Her giggle was cut short with a sharp intake of breath when he began to move… around and within, gently and slowly. Her chest heaved in wonder as she realized… that he couldn't hurt her. He couldn't if he tried. His contemplative eyes, his thoughtful expression – they assured her that he was hers; that he wanted to be hers. And she loved that.

His mouth wandered down her stomach, his hot, slightly ragged breath sending tingles through her. She sighed and moaned, arching her back in womanly realization as he touched down. His lips and tongue were so… artistic, so perfect! Oh, he may have been shy, stoic, and calm, but God – did he know how to tease her! She squirmed childishly as he licked her harder, laughing again. "Oh, you naughty soldier!" she exclaimed, her toes curling momentarily. The sensation that suffused her body was fantastic, unbelievable. He gave a small smile, closing his eyes and nuzzling closer. Oh, the warmth he bestowed upon her. It was almost too much. She felt as if he would scorch her into nothingness, like the flames that consumed the Wei fleet at Chi Bi. But this was not a painful fire at all… not like that terrible night when she failed him and condemned him to a half-life. Tonight, that flame was beautiful. It was a flame that she wanted to burn forever and ever.

"You're not going to bed soon, are you?" she giggled, her hands finding his face. "I'll answer for you. You're not. So let's play some games."

She was a playful woman, and although he was a quiet man, he was happy to entertain her. So they played a game of love, and they both set the rules.

She was light, very light, so he began by pressing himself to her against a tree trunk and spreading her legs. Supporting her with his strapping arms, he simply whispered, "I'll be yours." His voice was reverent as he stroked her once more, before crossing the threshold and gently entering her. She gasped involuntarily, her eyes wide in amazement – and as he began to move, the pleasure began to permeate her. Another moan left her lips as he pleaded for an answer. "Will you be mine?"

Her answer to her beloved Tai – her slender arms and legs wrapping loyally and ardently around him – was a resounding yes.

He moved slowly at first, but as her purring grew more feverish, he began to quicken. His mouth pressed against hers as she submissively stretched up her arms, allowing him every possible entry into her. He sandwiched her harder against the tree, his broad, scarred chest stroking at her breasts and her nipples faster with every motion he brought inside her gates. "I want you," she cried, as she slid along his erect shaft, guiding him as he drove himself upwards. "I want only you, Tai."

Her back felt a bit sore against the bark of the poor tree, but she didn't give a damn. Not when he was thrusting into her. Nothing felt better. Nothing felt more gratifying than having him inside her. She cried out in dumbfounded amazement at his virility, and laughed and wept in enchantment as he carried her on the wings of Wu, his whisper melding into the melodious voice of the Yangtze.

The voice of the Wu Kingdom…

They made love on the grass, as he held her from behind, his lips searching for hers as they cried out their carnal adoration for the night to hear. On all fours, she whimpered as he visited her over and over again, his large member stroking past her tight womanhood, caressing the hearth of her body like the flames stoking a fireplace. Her hands clutched at the grass, at the dirt, anything to steady herself from the unrelenting flow of delight that came from behind. He was unrelenting in his assault, and she felt herself surrendering almost instantly. Why would she want to fight him at all? Her eyes closed at his touch, and her wet, salivating mouth remained open, unable to shut. "More. More," she mewled with difficulty, "don't stop. You're wonderful. You're stunning. I'll try to last as long as I can for you – "

He suddenly clasped her breasts and raised her up on her knees while his lips nibbled at her neck. Blinking in surprise, she compliantly reached her arms behind her to hold him, but he had more surprises planned.

All it took was for him to murmur softly in her ear, "You fascinate me."

At those spontaneous, honest, loving words, she exploded in a famished craving that she never knew she was even capable of.

She screamed for him. Loudly.

I MUST have you, dammit!

His fingers, his power! He smiled and carried on, rocking his lusty body between her as her cries loudened. "Say that again," she exclaimed tearfully, throwing all caution to the wind, losing herself in the presence of her sweet, delicious Tai. The entire Kingdom could come and watch them fornicating in the forest, for all she cared. "Say more. Say anything! Anything with that deep, sexy voice of yours."

Swear at me. Abuse me. Possess me; I am yours forever.

They made sensual love by the riverbank, the waters lapping at their bare, intertwining legs. The freshwater kissed them, mingling with their humid, sighing bodies. Cynthia stretched herself wide, pushing herself around him, laughing and moaning in abandoned, licentious, impious excitement as he grunted quietly, his eyes shining with desperation to last as long as possible, to ensure she would not be disappointed by his efforts at lovemaking. But she – this bawdy, exotic girl – was making it very difficult. Her delicate hands, her loving, beaming face, her innocent, silver eyes, and her sweet, tender, delicious breasts aroused him to no end. Her tight womanhood enfolded him protectively, comfortingly, and affirmingly – how could he not convulse in willing surrender? She was provocative, infuriatingly arousing, and as he continued to penetrate her, her cries loudened, and he took her harder and faster, obeying her directives with devotion that that far surpassed his loyalty to his King.

Lithe and strong, flexible and powerful – like a hunter's bow, like a masterful spear. They were adept with each other, and he growled out her name as a protective tiger prowls beside its mistress. And she squealed out his name too, begging to learn many more secrets from him, pleading to understand this strange creature that was her sweet darling. And to learn the secrets of the river, of flowing, never-ending love.

For a long time she played with him, astonishing him, coaxing him, resisting him, and taking pleasure in his strength and in his virility. He shyly returned her liveliness, his scarred, war-torn hands stroking the hairtails that she had forgotten to undo, tugging at them lightly as he made his home inside her. Their pleasure reached breaking point, their thrashing in the bushes growing louder, more frenzied. She mewed as their sizzling bodies writhed and wriggled as one, their senses positively incinerated. He had consumed her in his fire, in his inferno. She bit down into his broad shoulder, dissatisfied with merely screaming. She twitched, her muscles contracting and sending tremor after rippling tremor through her contented body. Fingers digging tightly into his scarred, manly flesh, she nibbled him almost instinctively, her orgasm shooting into her furthest extremities, overturning her mind and her world. She moaned incomprehensibly, words of adoration mixed with rude words of utter amazement.

Then she realized he was not finished with her.

"Oh, God." Where had he learnt such prowess? "Take me," she cried hoarsely, in grateful but impatient enthusiasm, briefly scratching at his broad back, demanding that he send her into utter defeat. "Take me now. Take me, take me, take me."

He accelerated while grabbing her fair hair behind her head and pushed his mouth against her neck. He rasped as he licked at her, unable to breathe normally. Was she going to kill him? So be it! Never had he experienced such joy, such communion. He regretted having lost control now, but she was simply too beautiful, too desirable.

"Oh, Tai."

He was surprised he had been able to hold back for so long.

"Aah… Tai!"

But now, they had gone too far. He kissed her again and again as they clutched at one another, as they had done that day at He Fei.

"Aaagh, TAI!"

Her keen, sweet mews of climatic excitement invigorated him, tortured him, and he breathed heavily as he lost control of his member. As she repeatedly wailed his name in surrender, he exploded, his almost bestial roar thundering through the forest. His nectar flooded into her, trickling lazily through her quivering form, and she inhaled sharply, her toes curling tightly as his warmth suffused and saturated her, just the way she liked it.

The valiant General Zhou, hero of the Wu Kingdom, panted quietly, lost for words. He was utterly defeated. The sweet, fragrant body of a Claymore had vanquished him. He lay on the grass, terribly weary, even as she held him lovingly in her slender arms. She could not help giggling in triumph. She felt so helpless, so fragile, so vulnerable… so beautiful, as he had told her.

"Say something," she invited, her face glowing as she pressed herself closer against him, unable to ever leave his side. "What are you thinking about?"

He blinked at the strange question. "... What would you like me to think?"

"Oh, my clueless Tai," she sighed, hugging him.

He still listened closely to her tender, teasing words, but he no longer replied. He was too exhausted.

That night, she lost herself to a half-man, half-Yoma. They had made love by the banks of the river, their whispers and sighs mingling with the midnight breeze and pacified crickets.

Their bodies danced amidst the reeds, and the moon rejoiced with them.

*

As the weeks passed, Cynthia's behaviour grew more and more suspicious. She continually insisted to the soldiers that she still needed to continue teaching Zhou Tai the use of Yoki, although many of the men had already heard of his exploit of retaining his humanity even in the midst of Awakening. She didn't really blame them for being doubtful.

After all, she knew that her arguments were little more than an excuse for sex.

She was supposed to educate him further in his use of Yoki, but her "training" with him had become utterly unproductive in that sense. Their nightly sessions had degenerated from sparring and duelling to cuddling competitions and spontaneous bouts of kissing. No longer did she test how long he could hold his Yoki at twenty percent; rather, she enjoyed seeing how long he could hold his breath as she pressed her lips to his mouth, or how long he could last amidst round after round of exhausting sexual romps around the forest. Or, she would hold up her sword for only a few minutes, clashing with Duskstrike half-heartedly, before abandoning all pretence of pedagogical duty and throwing herself at him, slapping away his sword and demanding that he hold her instead.

His men always joked that it was rather hard to devise strategies to winning the civil war when a peasant girl was grinding her buttocks against them. Before he had met Cynthia, he merely smiled at his soldiers' vulgarity. It was loutishness typical of warriors who had been kept away from their wives and lovers for far too long. But now, he wondered if his men were right. Cynthia astounded him; his desire to drink his fill of her only grew with each passing day. She was nothing short of extraordinary. Whenever he held her in his arms… he felt positively drunk, inebriated, drugged. It was as if she had cast a spell on him. Was she his wine? His milk? His ambrosia?

But it was true that she did not want any of his men to know. She didn't want them to know that she had become his willing little whore.

It had been a week and more since their first night together as lovers. Tonight, they met in the grove near the quiet river again, where the troops – hopefully – would not hear them. Naked in the forest, she had ridden him late into the evening, her hands clutching at his pectorals in ardent lust while she slid herself around him in a rodeo of wild abandon. He gripped her by the waist; sweat pouring down from his body and mingling with hers. She did not undo her hairtails. He found them adorable, and the way they were flung up and down while they fornicated was particularly arousing. So, she kept them.

But despite the intensity of their excitement and their ecstasy tonight, his expression remained troubled. She noticed it, even as her thighs pressed against him tightly and he raised himself to a sitting position, embracing her completely. "What… What's wrong, baby?" she asked, nuzzling him with her nose before looking fondly into his eyes. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"…No, Cynthia. I am worried. Our King has lost his patience with Liu Bei," blurted the general reluctantly. "The alliance with Shu is about to crumble. And with it, our chances of survival against Cao Cao… are now in jeopardy."

"Oh, is that it?" she cried, kissing his lips to silence him. "And I thought it was actually something important."

He gasped for breath, intoxicated by her soft body. It was a wonder that he hadn't Awakened already. "My sweet lady… this is important."

"No!" she denied petulantly, and pushed down again, swearing in cheeky pleasure as his member shot through her again. She was mischievous, adventurous. She would not listen to him, because she was lost in him. Overcome by her passion and by her stirring adoration, he fell silent and let her have her way with him. He enjoyed that… these tender moments with her. His hands caressed her in return, and she squealed and laughed and moaned in glee. She leaned forward slightly, inviting him to clasp her breasts, to hold her while she rocked against him. He dutifully took her, and she quivered gratefully.

"I love you, Tai," she offered, her face and hair bathed in their sweat. Her lips were parted in exhilarated ardour, and her eyes shone with worship. "Please, tell me… tell me you love me, too."

"I love you, Cynthia. I swear it," he murmured at once, smiling up at her beaming countenance. "Until you have had your fill of me, I will not think of anything else except your satisfaction."

After all, playtime was playtime.