ericlustbader.the ninja-第57节

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　Then　Kansatsu　had　clapped　his　hands　twice　and　the　onlookers　broke　up；　class　was　out　for　the　day。
　Nicholas　found　that　he　was　trembling；　the　muscles　jumping　as　if　out　of　control　under　the　sheath　of　his　skin。　Tension　and　adrenalin　both　still　coursed　through　him；　having　been　released　in　enormous　quantities　by　the　stress　situation。　His　mind　knew　that　that　was　over　but　his　body　needed　more　time　to　acmodate　itself　to　a　return　to　normalcy。
　He　breathed　deeply；　in　and　out。　It　was　like　a　shudder。
　When　he　returned　home　that　evening；　it　was　not　one　of　the　servants　who　opened　the　door　at　his　approach。　Nor　was　it　Cheong。　It　was；　rather；　Yukio。
　He　had　not　seen　her　in　three　years　and　then　it　was　only　one　brief　afternoon　at　a　family　funeral。　It　had　been　three　and　a　half　years　since　their　incendiary　meeting　and　he　had　never　forgotten　her。
　She　bowed。　'Good　evening；　Nicholas。'　She　wore　a。　dove…grey　kimono　with　platinum…coloured　threads　running　through　it　vertically。　It　had　a　midnight…blue　wheel…and…spoke　pattern　that　recalled　the　signs　of　the　feudal　daiymyo。
　He　bowed　in　return。　'Good　evening；　Yukio。'
　She　stood　aside　for　him　to　enter；　her　eyes　on　the　floor　in　front　of　her。　'You　are　surprised　to　see　me。'
　He　put　his　bag　down；　never　taking　his　eyes　off　her　face。　'I　haven't　seen　you　in　years。'
　'Aunt　Itami　brought　me　this　afternoon　while　you　were　at　the　dojo。　I　came　up　to　stay　with　them　but　the　house　is　being　partially　remodelled；　including　the　spare　bedroom。'
　He　took　her　through　the　house；　out　of　the　back　shoji。　They　stepped　out　into　the　night　in　the　Zen　garden。
　It　was　clear；　just　a　few　stray　clouds　rising　like　wisps　of　smoke　low　on　the　horizon。　The　full　moon　was　enormous；　its　reflected　light　turning　the　air　aqueous；　everything　was　bathed　in　blue　shadows。　He　watched　the　soft　light　outline　her　profile；　throwing　her　eyes　into　deep　shadow。　She　might　have　been　a　statue　at　the　Shinto　shrine　hidden　within　the　cryptomeria。　They　might　have　been　under　water。
　A　nightingale　called　softly　from　the　treetops　high　over　their　heads；　and　farther　away　came　the　long；　lonely　hoot　of　a　snow　owl。
　'I've　never　been　to　Kyoto；'　he　said。　It　was　where　she　lived。
　'You　must　e　some　time。'　Her　head　turned　slightly。　She　was　staring　at　the　mountains　of　the　rocks；　raising　themselves　like　living　entities　above　the　lawn　of　round　stones。　Her　voice　was　like　velvet　in　the　night。　They　stood　quite　still；　not　touching。　'It's　very　beautiful。'
　Not　as　beautiful　as　you；　Nicholas　thought。　He　felt　his　heart　beating　hard。　'I　still　remember　what　happened。'
　She　turned　to　face　him　and　the　moonlight　glinted　off　her　pupils。　'What　do　you　mean？'
　Now　he　felt　a　fool。　'At　the　party。'　He　paused。　'When　we　danced。。。'
　She　laughed　a　bit　self…consciously。　'Oh；　that。　I　had　forgotten。'
　He　felt　a　bit　deflated。　He　had　felt　before　that　part　of　her　ing　here　was　because　of　him。　He　saw　how　idiotic　that　was　now。　That　one　incident　had　happened　three　and　a　half　years　ago。　Why　should　she　remember　it？
　'Was　Saigo　at　the　dojo　today？'
　'Yes。　I　hadn't　seen　him　for　some　time。　He's　joined　another　ryu；　I　expect。'
　'Perhaps　that's　why　he　goes　to　Kyushu　a　lot。'
　He　stared　at　her。　'Kyushu？'
　She　nodded。　'It's　my　Uncle　Satsugai's　doing；　I'm　certain。　They're　always　plotting　this　or　that　when　they're　together。　I　can't　imagine　that　Saigo　would　take　it　into　his　head　on　his　own　to　go　so　far　away。　Anyway；　it's　a　secret；　I　know　that　much。'
　'How　do　you　know　that？'
　'I　asked　Aunt　Itami　once　and　she　acted　as　if　she　hadn't　heard　a　word　I'd　said。'
　'I'm　sure　it's　nothing；　then。'
　Yukio　merely　shrugged；　putting　her　arms　across　her　breasts。　'Can　we　go　in？　I'm　hungry。'
　They　went　into　the　house　and　Nicholas　excused　himself。　He　went　off　to　his　room　and；　throwing　off　his　dirty　robe；　padded　into　the　bathroom。　He　turned　on　the　shower；　stepped　inside　the　stall。　Someone　as　traditional　as　Itami　would；　perhaps；　prefer　the　bath　but　Nicholas　had　no　such　predispositions。
　It　was　good　to　feel　the　hot　water　on　his　body　and　he　began　to　soap　himself；　his　thoughts　on　the　day　at　the　dojo。　He　had　wanted　to　talk　to　Kansatsu　after　the　match　with　Saigo　but　that　had　proved　impossible。　Why　hadn't　he　mentioned　the　match　to　Yukio？　There　had　been　ample　opportunity　when　she　had　brought　up　Saigo。　He　shrugged；　dismissing　the　thought。
　He　turned　his　head；　curious。　A　shadow　had　been　thrown　against　the　frosted　glass　of　the　shower…stall。　It　condensed　in　size。　The　person　was　ing　into　the　bathroom。　He　turned　off　the　water；　opened　the　door。　He　stood　perfectly　still。　Water　beaded　his　skin；　glistening　in　the　fluorescent　light　of　the　bathroom；　which　had　turned　her　skin　opalescent。
　'You　are　quite　beautiful；'　Yukio　said。　She　was　naked。　She　held　a　bath　towel　over　one　arm。　She　did　not　offer　it　to　him。
　He　watched　her　face　for　any　sign　of　what　she　might　be　thinking。　He　thought　of　her　words。　He　saw　hunger　in　her　eyes。
　He　was　seventeen　and　she　two　years　his　senior。　In　terms　of　chronology　it　wasn't　much　but　now　it　seemed　like　light…years。　Despite　all　his　training；　his　careful　schooling；　his　cool　intellect；　he　felt　lost　beside　her；　as　if　she　were　some　doorway　to　a　world　for　which　he　had　been　totally　unprepared。
　She　took　one　step　towards　him。　Her　lips　opened　and　she　said　something。　It　might　have　been　as　mundane　as　'Do　you　want　this？'　He　couldn't　tell。　One　leg　was　extended　in　front　of　the　other；　as　his　had　been　earlier　at　the　dojo　as　the　beginning　of　the　interlacing　cross。　Her　tiny　ankle；　the　flesh　of　the　calf；　the　extended　knee；　the　long　sweep　of　her　thigh。
　Something　inside　him；　high　up　at　the　top　of　his　brain；　seemed　to　rise　up；　beginning　to　float　away；　as　if　someone　unknown　had　chopped　at　the　last　cables　holding　him　to　the　earth。　It　went　twisting　away；　diminishing　in　size　with　such　rapidity　that　he　forgot　that　it　had　ever　been　a　part　of　him。　'e　here；'　he　said　thickly　and　his　hand　reached　out；　brushing　the　towel　from　her　arm。　It　pooled　on　the　glistening　tile　floor　as　her　arms　lifted　to　him。
　'Yukio。'　But　a　breath。
　Her　breasts　were　high　and　round；　the　dark　nipples　long　and　already　very　hard。　Her　narrow　waist；　her　creamy　belly。　The　dark　mound　of　her　mons　was　highly　arched。
　Her　arms　came　around　him　and　he　enclosed　her　open　mouth。
　She　slid　her　body　against　his；　not　using　her　hand　at　all；　only　her　lips　against　his　own；　down　his　neck；　back　upwards　again；　almost　desperate　in　their　urgency。　Her　breasts　rubbed　along　the　wet　flesh　of　his　chest；　picking　up　the　moisture；　her　mound　was　against　him；　gently　massaging。
　Her　lips　were　at　his　ear　and　he　heard　her　whisper；　'Turn　on　the　water。'
　He　half　turned；　reaching　behind　them　both　to　spin　the　taps。　Hot　water　gushed　down；　inundating　them；　and　as　he　turned　back　to　her；　he　found　that　he　was　already　deep　inside　her。　He　gasped。　By　what　magic　had　she　acplished　that？　Sensations　rolled　like　liquid　thunder　upward　from　his　groin；　engulfing　him。
　As　he　began　to　move　against　her；　he　saw　her　head　float　back；　upturned；　the　wet　hair　cascading　down　like　a　stream　at　midnight。　Her　face　was　in　the　rush　of　water；　her　eyes　rolling　backwards；　and　her　mouth　wide　open　in　a　soundless　scream。　He　could　hear　panting。　Her　arms　came　up；　reaching　over　their　bobbing　heads　to　grasp　the　slippery　chrome　spout。　Her　knuckles　turned　white。　Her　thighs　rose　until　they　were　locked　around　his　waist　and　he　was　supporting　her　with　his　body。　Her　belly　ground　in　hard　circular　movements　as　if　she　could　not　get　enough　of　him　and　he　was　obliged　to　put　his　hands　on　her　waist　so　that　she　wouldn't　throw；　herself　from　their　wet　connection。　The　fierce　heaving's　of　her　body　mounted。　It　was　like　trying　to　hang　on　to　a　wild　animal　in　the　shuddering　throes　of　death。
　She　began　to　scream　now　and　abruptly　he　understood　why　she　had　wanted　the　water　on。　The　pleasure　was　being　unbearable　and　his　legs　began　to　tremble　with　the　effort　and　the　straining　for　release。　Dimly　he　became　aware　that　she　was　saying　something　to　him。
　'Hit　me；'　she　moaned。　'Hit　me。'
　He　thought　that　in　this　state　he　must　have　misheard　her　but　she　repeated　it　over　and　over；　a　litany。　Her　breasts　shook；　rivulets　of　moisture　ran　down　her　supple　flesh。　Her　body　was　arched　backward；　her　hands　still　gripping　the　spout；　their　body's　pistoning　frantically。
　She　was　gasping　and　moaning　and　he　didn't　think　that　he　could　hold　out　much　longer。　Her　body　seemed　bottom…heavy。
　'Please！'　she　cried　to　him。　'Please；　please；　please！'　But　he　would　not　raise　a　hand　to　her。　'I　know；'　she　gasped　out；　her　lips　against　his　ear。　The　hot　rain　crashing　against　them；　her　hard　nipples　scraping　his　chest。　'I　know　what　happened　today　…at　the　dojo。'　Her　voice　was　ragged　and　there　were　uneven　gaps　between　the　words。　Still；　he　heard　her。　'I　know　…　oh！　Hit　me；　darling。　Hit　me！'　And　then；　savagely；　'I　fucked　Saigo；　just　as　I'm　fucking　you　now　I'
　He　struck　her　then；　as　she　wanted　him　to　do；　indeed；　as　she　needed　him　to　do。
　'Oh！'　she　cried　out；　her　body　arching。　'Oh；　oh；　oh；　darling！　I'm　going！'
　And；　in　that　moment；　he　felt　a　ring　of　muscles　deep　inside　her　gripping　him；　clamping　his　flesh　in　exquisite　torment；　and　he　too　cried　out；　his　legs　giving　way　at　last。　Her　fists　slipped　from　the　spout　and　they　collapsed　to　the　bottom　of　the　stall；　the　water　on　them；　all　around　them