woman still named EVE? What do you say, Baby? Whatever you say, Hal. I told you not to call me that. I'm sorry, I meant to say Hank That's the name I prefer.

Okay, let's go to bed, shall we? What's the big hurry?

Hank, you suggested it.

So maybe I've changed my mind-

Eve waited for his decision, but his mind stood still wondering how soon Joel would begin having pubic hair. He grinned, thinking. It was not a nice face Eve

saw.

There really wasn't any more to say, so they went to bed. Attempting to sound surprised at himself, Hank Gordon said he thought-what. Eve grimaced with her old, her time-old disgust. It was just beginning summer, but the night was unusually hot. Eve appealed.

Tonight? It's so hot?

But, Honey, I want to——

So they had sex; a strange, experimental kind of sex, which frightened Eve. Hank?

Be still, it's what I want-

It was ugly. Eve Gordon kept very still and let her mysterious husband have his way, like savages in caves, like savages. Brutes. It did not take as long as usual; he was more worked up tonight than usual, that was why-

Eve continued to lay on her stomach, and thought long thoughts. This man. Who was he? Who is he? Why would he do thing like that me? His wife. I love him. Why? Strangely, she was neither hurt nor embarrassed; more as though an inexplicable imp had whispered to her in secrecy, and she felt she must speak aloud in order to escape his charm. Why?

EveWhat?

You mad at me?

No.

Eve?

What

I want to again.

Hank-

Please, please let me?

This time, instead of mounting her, he lay apart and reached over a cool distance and dug his fingers in the flesh of her rump. Fingers at once caressing and cruel. Feeling her. In the dark he breathed, whispering spasms. Dark passion became pain; pain quickened desire, and his torture broke the iron control of pleasure and broached the hurrying relief of this new sexual liberation. This time, it lasted over an hour; prolonging itself. Hating and loving the mingled fantasy of blood and appetite; and straining on wings of sense for the sheerest pitch of her tense, lasting flight. Eve, Eve?

The bed shook, creaked, shook. The night slid over Eve like a black snake, chilling her and coiling cold beside her. Eden, it breathed, Eden. Eve. Eve.

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