Beloved

honest man. I will be your wife for all the world to see, and I shall not be ashamed. Until that time we will be lovers, and I shall not be ashamed of that, either. For now my duty is to the memory of Odenathus Septimius, his son-my son-Vaballathus, boy king of this city; and to Palmyra itself. I will not shirk my duties, Marcus. It is not my way.'

***

In an isolated part of the palace she set aside a private apartment where no one but old Bab and himself were permitted to enter; although he rarely saw the queen's old nurse. It was one large, square, bright and airy room that she transformed into a retreat of sensuality where they might play with each other and be safe from prying eyes.

The floor of the room was made of great blocks of pale-gold marble, carefully fitted so that they appeared to be one piece. Near the entrance was a sunken black marble bathing pool filled with tepid scented water sprayed by the distended male organs of four mischievous gold cupids. To the left was a large, beautifully carved standing cabinet for storage, and beyond that a round table-in fact the very one of African cedar that Zenobia had bought from Marcus many years before-with two rounded backed chairs with carved arms and legs. Bright peacock-blue silk cushions had been placed on each chair.

In the far left corner of the room was a large, square sleeping platform that sat upon a dais set up two steps. An enormous striped mattress made of coral and gold silk, and filled with the finest, purest white lambswool was placed upon the sleeping platform. The dais and the platform had been overlaid with several layers of gold leaf. Upon the mattress were spread peacock-and emerald-colored silk pillows.

On the wall opposite the sleeping platform were seven marble pillars, gold-colored, veined in red, and between them hung sheer silk curtains of palest gold shot through with gold thread, which blew gently in the soft evening breezes. On the coldest days the silk would be replaced by heavy woolen draperies of an earthy gold color.

The walls had been painted with colorful frescoes of the gods and goddesses as they played at love. Diana, chaste goddess of the hunt and the moon, was held in captive embrace by the sun god, Apollo, who boldly fondled her unclad breasts; while about them Diana's equally chaste handmaidens were hunted by a band of rapacious satyrs. A very voluptuous Venus, goddess of love, reclined upon a couch, her pink, white, gold, and blue-eyed beauty totally nude for all to see while two very handsome and extremely well-endowed young mortal males sought to please. Juno, queen of those fortunates who resided upon Mount Olympus, lay upon her back, legs spread wide, her face a mask of ecstasy, while the blacksmith god, Vulcan, labored mightily. Jupiter, King of Olympus, was shown in both his guises: as the swan seducing the beauteous Leda, wife to Tyndareus; the King of Sparta; and as the chestnut-colored bull who abducted and seduced the virgin, Europa, daughter of Agenor, the Phoenician King of Tyre. Both ladies seemed quite pleased with the god's attentions, however. Among the gods and goddesses nymphs and centaurs sported in various and some quite interesting attitudes of play.

Carefully studying them during his first visit to the apartment, Marcus noted somewhat wryly, 'I am not sure such a thing is possible when one has a body that is half-human, half-equine.' He reclined in a chair along one of the walls.

'The ladies seem content,' Zenobia noted from the black marble pool where she was swimming. In the crystal waters of the pool her own very voluptuous form was quite visible.

'Still, I wonder…' he mused, and then he turned to face her. 'Come to me, beloved. It has been more than three hundred nights since you have lain in my arms. The gods know that I have always been a patient man, but now I am no longer patient.'

Her gray eyes darkened with the remembered passion of that one night that they had had, and a soft smile curved her lips for a moment. Then she swam over to the steps of the pool and stood up. She slowly ascended the stairs as he watched with intense desire her lush golden body, the water droplets glittering like diamonds as they ran down her. Lazily she dried herself off, picked up an alabaster flask, and walked across the room to him. Handing him the flask, she purred, 'Will you rub me with this cream, Marcus,' and without waiting for him to answer continued on to the sleeping platform, where she lay down upon her stomach.

Standing, he whipped the wrap of cloth from his loins, and, naked, joined her. The night was warm with early summer as he straddled her, using her bottom as a seat, and poured the fragrant, pale mauve-colored cream into one big palm. Carefully he set the flask upon one of the platform steps and, rubbing his hands together to spread the cream, he began to massage her.

'Ummmmmm,' she murmured huskily as his large hands swept up the long length of her back and over her shoulders.

He continued this way for some minutes until all the cream had disappeared into her skin, and then, reversing his position, he crouched over her facing her feet. Taking more of the mauve cream, he began to massage her buttocks with expert fingers.

'Ohhhh!' Zenobia gave a little shriek of pleasure, and he smiled to himself. She had thought to play this teasing game with him, but when he had finished with her it would be she whose fires would rage uncontrolled.

Finished with her buttocks, he began to rub each leg in its turn, and then her arms, with the scented cream. As he did so he was not averse to pressing teasing little kisses upon the back of her neck, having first pushed aside her long black hair, which had come free of its jeweled pins. It gave him great satisfaction to note that her delicious body was unable to remain still.

'Marcus!' Her voice was somewhat strained.

'Yes, beloved?' His voice was smooth, devoid of any emotion.

'I think you can stop now.' He certainly could stop, she thought frantically. Her skin was absolutely tingling; in fact, she was tingling all over.

'Now?' His voice had turned innocent, and he slipped his hands beneath her to grasp her marvelous breasts. Teasingly, he pinched the nipples, very much enjoying her gasp of surprise. Covering her body with his own, his weight crushed her into the mattress as he murmured into her ear, 'My beloved goddess, did you think to tease me to madness? You have succeeded!' And he gently bit at the back of her neck.

She shuddered as the flames of desire began to lick at her in earnest. 'Marcus!'

He heard the plea, and lifted himself off her to turn her over onto her back. Her beautiful breasts rose and fell in quick rhythm. His dark chestnut head lowered to capture a pert nipple, which he then caressed with his tongue, circling round and round it, until she moaned a low, keening sound that was half-pleasure, half-frustration. Lifting his head, he moved over to her other nipple while his hand kneaded the breast he had just left. Her breasts had been extremely sensitive since she had stopped nursing Mavia and given that chore to a wet-nurse.

He was going to drive her mad, Zenobia thought. Reaching down, she grasped his thick hair and pulled him from her breast. 'Kiss me!' she demanded furiously, and he laughed softly for a moment before his lips took fierce possession of hers. His tongue filled her mouth, skillfully doing battle with hers, which would not be subdued but fought him with equal cunning, bringing quick liquid fire into his hot loins.

Mischievously she bit him, and he swore softly while she laughed and, moving provocatively, murmured, 'Now, my darling! Now!'

“No!' he told her. By the gods she might be Queen of Palmyra, but while she lay in his arms he would be the master! 'Not yet, beloved! You are too eager.'

'Yes, now!' She thrust her pelvis upward against him.

'No! There are pleasures yet to be savored, my beauty,' and before she could stop him he shifted his body downward to push his head between her thighs. His fingers pushed the yielding flesh apart, and his mouth found the bud of her womanhood.

Zenobia struggled frantically for breath. Her husband had never done what Marcus now did to her! Such delights he was unleashing within her body! They came quickly one after another in explosions of incredible rapture that left her close to swooning. It was only when he heard the tone of her voice become distraught that he stopped and covered her body again with his own, murmuring soft love words, plunging deep into her burning flesh to soothe and comfort her. Her arms went about him, and she held him tightly against herself, her breasts flattening against the soft fur of his chest.

Together they found the perfect rhythm, and ascended an Olympus of their own, rising higher and higher until finally they gained a paradise far above that of mere gods. Together they clung to each other in that incredible world of instant immortality before descending again to the world of man. Neither remembered the return,