Now his lips dipped to meet hers, and her gasp at the pressure of body against body was instantly stifled. It remained stifled for a long time, but Blade's still-roving hands told him of the shivers and the quick breathing growing in her. His lips moved from her lips down to her throat, to nibble gently at the firm flesh of her neck. She moaned softly. He bent her head forward and licked an earlobe. She moaned louder.
His instincts told him she was now beyond hearing any «wrong notes» he might strike. He lifted the poncho, and without a word she raised her arms to let it slip freely over her head. He threw it aside and stared at her bare body gleaming in the morning sun.
Nothing of what he had seen, heard, or felt before had lied; her body was perfect to the limits of what he believed possible in a human woman. Slender, firm neck and arms, wide creamy shoulders faintly dusted with gold-brown freckles, full breasts forming perfect cones ending in large pink nipples, a flat belly, taut but full thighs flanking a triangle whose curling hair held more brown than the hair of her head, legs neither long nor short but flawlessly curved.
His fingers brushed the side of her neck, sprang lightly down past her shoulders to her breasts, played with the nipples. The pink circles seemed to warm to his touch; the centers thrust gently out, pushing at his roving hands. The hands dropped down farther, cupping the breasts and stroking the skin over her ribs; her mouth opened in an incoherent sound halfway between a moan and a choking. Her hands and arms stiffened as though an electric current had shot through them and seized his swollen manhood, pulling it hard against her groin. She moaned again, her knees relaxed, and she fell backward full length on the grass, pulling at his hands so hard that he nearly fell on top of her right there and then.
Then he did come down on top of her and drove into her, finding her already wet, open, welcoming him as he entered, writhing and gasping and raising her legs to clamp them behind his back and her hands to twine around his neck. She pulled him against her as though wanting to make him dissolve and be absorbed by her, then her first climax came and she screamed out loud. Blade continued his thrusts as her arms and legs relaxed for a moment, then again they went tight and she screamed again.
Four times she climaxed before the pressure in his own loins reached the bursting point. He poured himself into her with such force he was almost frightened; she screamed again, then went utterly limp beneath him.
As they lay there glued together by the sweat pouring over both of them and dripping onto the grass, Blade found himself a trifle bemused. He was, most of the time, a vigorous, even aggressive lover, always ready to take the initiative, giving his partner full pleasure but not backing off for one moment in pursuit of his own as well. But this time he had sensed a harmony that Leyndt seemed to radiate, a harmony almost as audible as a musical note, and he had been reluctant to disturb it. And he had been well rewarded for this reluctance. The look in Leyndt's eyes was unique-he would not have believed it possible to look utterly satiated in such a detached manner.
Presently she rose, kissed him again in a rather sisterly manner, then pulled on her poncho and was off. There was a look of uncertainty as she did so, as if she feared that the detachment so long and so stubbornly maintained under such unlikely circumstances would fall apart if she spoke to Blade.
This was, fortunately, not their last encounter, nor were the second and subsequent ones quite as improbable as the first. They learned to laugh in the midst of their loving, particularly when Blade discovered that Leyndt, the perfectly balanced Leyndt, was ticklish, and that a few strokes at the backs of her knees could make her as helpless as a child. They learned to talk, and exchanged memories of their lives and of how they had each arrived at this particular place at this particular time. Leyndt found nothing strange in Blade's being from another dimension, as long as he was at least fully human. In fact, she accepted him so much without question that he wondered if she might be prepared to believe in the existence of the aliens-or at least listen to his theory of their existence without considering him mad.
After about two weeks, Blade was called to a conference with Leyndt and Stramod. They were the only two members of the directing bodies of the Union permanently in residence at the resort, and thus the only two there qualified to speak on matters of high policy. But Blade gathered from what they had said that the plans for him were in fact the result of much debate among all the Union leaders, with messages flowing back and forth. That made Blade a little uneasy. His long experience as a secret agent had taught him that sending too many messages risked discovery and destruction. And he had no wish to become the victim of the Union's destruction through becoming the occasion for too many messages.
Stramod was brisker and more cheerful than usual. The thought of being able even indirectly to strike a hard blow at the Ice Master could hardly do anything but improve his spirits. He was positively beaming as he explained the plan.
«The wisest thing for you would seem to be a return to Treduk territory, along with Nilando. The two of you as a team can travel among their villages, teaching them what you have learned about the Dragons, their Masters, and the ways to deal with them. Every dead Dragon or Dragon Master is a blow to the Ice Master's strength. We can whittle it away little by little, without risking exposing ourselves by giving the Treduki modern weapons. That would only lead the Conciliators to turn all the fliers and flier-troops against the Treduki at once. In addition, I cannot be altogether sure that some at least of the Treduki would not turn our own weapons against us. But this way, many Ice Dragons will die with the Conciliators being none the wiser. And however many supplies the Ice Master receives from his allies, he can make only so many Dragons and train so many slaves as Masters. In the end-«and Stramod made a neck-wringing gesture with his huge hands.
Blade nodded, somewhat wearily. The strain on him was considerable. He was having to continuously bite his tongue to keep it from throwing his theory about the aliens out into the open. And also in having to listen to long considerations of Graduk internal politics. Not that these people should not be concerned about them, but he had no need to be, and at the moment what he needed most of all was a chance to get back into action. Preferably fast, bloody action, destructive to the Ice Dragons, the Ice Master, and-? It was quite some time before Blade was able to turn the discussion to practical subjects, such as suitable weaponry for the Treduki to use against the Dragons.
He had considered teaching the Treduki to rifle their cannon to improve their accuracy, but that would involve months while he taught himself the technique, more months while he taught it to the Treduki, and many more months after that while the cannon were being cast and their gunners retrained. That was for the very long run.
But there were other possibilities. Various siege engines, similar to those of Home Dimension, not very accurate, but if the Ice Dragons could be induced to come through narrow passages-well, Blade doubted if either Master or Dragon could survive a quarter-ton boulder plummeting out of the skies.
And there were long poles with hooks or nooses on the end, lassos, bolas, and a host of other possible weapons for hauling Dragon Masters from their saddles, weapons that could be wielded or hurled from beyond the range of a Dragon's neck and snapping jaws or a Master's capture web. Together a Master and his Dragon were almost invulnerable and unstoppable; separated they were far easier to defeat.