按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
r own spread…apart thighs until； lifting the material of her kimono； she encountered bare flesh。
Now； instead of her own fingertips； she felt Sato's flickering tongue in maddening repetition as it moved across Yoki's damp thighs； his hands behind her knees for an instant； lifting her legs。
Yoki's thighs； Akiko's thighs。 There was no difference there to the touch。 What had been done to her had not marred the silkiness of the flesh。 But； she knew； should Sato see what lay along the inside； hidden skin there he might call off the wedding and that she could not afford。 Afterward。。。 well； then he would have no choice but to accept her。
Sato's mouth moved upward； covering the curling black hair covering Yoki's high mound。 Akiko could see the other girl's hips trembling with excitement and the building of her orgasm。 Sato's head burrowed down into the heat and the wet and Yoki threw her head back； the thin cords at the side of her neck standing out； her lips open； her teeth bared。 Her thighs trembled uncontrollably。
And ail the while； Akiko's deft fingers were opening up her own petals； making gentle circular sweeps in concert with the movements of Sato's head。 She felt him but it was not enough； she needed more。 The sensations touched her； beading like rain。 But what she craved was a torrent； a tidal wave to lift her off her feet and tumble her helter…skelter into the arms of ecstasy。
It would not e； and she increased the pressure of her fingers； beginning to dig into the soft folds； pulling them apart； pressing harder against her clitoris。
Sato's head came up。 His chest was heaving like a bull's。 His great male form arched itself above Yoki's supple female one； shadowing her from the diffuse light； streaking her face so that she appeared to be wearing some bizarre makeup。
And now she drew him upward； rubbing him against her until she had no other choice but to arch up and impale herself on him； thrusting her hips wildly off the futon； the breath whooshing out of her with an audible rush； the mounds of her breasts quivering with the strength of the sensations running rampant through her。
How Akiko longed to feel what she was feeling： the tide gathering； calling； running inward from the vast depths of the sea toward her like a blanket of night； blotting out all thought； all pain； all memories in the shooting inundation of vibrating pleasure。
Sato was stroking down to meet Yoki's frantic thrusting； their hips hot in contact； the warm salty sweat dripping down from Sato's bulging muscles； beading along the girl's rippling skin。
She began to cry out； her arms enfolding him； drawing him all the way down on her； so that to Akiko it seemed as if he was burying her with his mass。 The rhythmic grunting picked up in tempo and the motion of their hips became ragged and indistinct。
Yoki was sighing out her passion in great long jets； her face unlined and taut。 The heels of her hands jammed against Sato's powerful muscular buttocks； urging him to thrust himself even deeper into her。
〃Going； going going。。。〃 Yoki's voice held the edge of hysteria and something more。 Whatever it was； Akiko longed for it just as she longed for the release from the bunched tension ribboning her thighs and stomach。 Her muscles were knotted and the pain came roaring at her just as it always did at these sessions。 She bit her lower lip in an effort not to cry out。 Her heart hammered； threatening to burst its cage of bone and slippery membrane to explode like a sad sun in her constricted throat。
Please； she moaned to herself。 Please； please； please。 Though initially she had felt more than she ever had before； though she thought she might experience the blessed relief of the clouds and rain； this night was no different from all the rest。 She heard Sato's animal grunting as he shot in rapid fire into Yoki's spasming depths。
It was too much for Akiko to bear and she fell back； slamming her shoulder against the floor beneath the tatami。 Her eyes rolled up in their sockets； she heard the rushing of a sharp wind so briefly she was uncertain of its existence。 Pain and a terrible longing transported her to a black plain。 She heard Sun Hsiung saying； 〃There is a way…and if you are patient I will teach it to you… to scrutinize the enemy's external appearance so that you may be able to discern his inner mind。〃
Then unconsciousness took her。
Nicholas rose promptly just before six A。M。； awakened by his own inner clock。 He took a quick shower； turning the water on first scaldingly hot； then needle cold。 Emerging from the bathroom； his skin glowing from the tough toweling； he folded down into the lotus position； facing the window and Tokyo。 He took three long； deep breaths。 Then he dissolved into himself。 And expanded outward； until his being filled the universe and he was wholly a part of everything。
The discreet knock on the door brought him out of his deep meditation； he had been waiting for it。 His eyes focused on the spires of the city and； breathing normally again； he rose。 He ate his breakfast of green tea and rice cakes silently。 Then； dressed lightly； a small black bag slung over one shoulder； he went out of the hotel。 It was just after ten o'clock。
He walked two blocks； east then south； and found himself in Toranomoncho。 Past the small； immaculately tended park； on the far side of Sakuradori he came to sanchome； the third area designation in Toranomon。 There were no exact street addresses in Tokyo； a peculiarity that nonplussed all foreign visitors。 Rather； the vast city was divided up into； first； ku or wards； then zones such as the Ginza； finally； into cho。 Within chd were numbered chome and block designations。
On the odd…shaped thirteenth block； Nicholas found what he was searching for。 The building overlooked a small ancient temple and； just beyond； Atago Hill。
Inside； he changed cut of his street clothes。 Reaching into the black bag he toted； he withdrew a pair of white cotton wide…legged pants。 These were kept up by a drawstring。 Over this he drew on a loose…fitting jacket of the same color and material。 This closed by means of a separate belt of black cotton tied low on the hips。 Finally； he stepped into the hakama； the traditional black divided skirt worn now only by those who had mastered kendo； kyudo； sumo or held dan…black belt…ranking in aikido。 This； too； was tied low on the hips to give a further feeling of centralization； handed down from the time of the samurai。
Thus dressed in his gi； Nicholas went up a flight of perfectly polished wooden stairs。 In his mind he heard the click； clack…click of wooden bokken clashing against each other。 And it was suddenly last summer。 He and Lew Croaker were in a New York dojo and he was watching the look in his friend's eyes as for the first time Croaker saw the flash of kenjutsu。
Nicholas had always been slow to find friendship； principally because that concept in its Eastern form meant a great deal more than it did in the West。 For him； as for all Orientals； friendship meant duty； the upholding of a friend's honor； bonds of iron no Westerner could fathom。 But Lew Croaker； within Nicholas' orbit； had learned those definitions and had chosen to be Nicholas' friend。