Maya Devi quit her bed, throwing on her robe, and ran to her husband’s bedchamber.
In the dim candlelight,Suddhodana lay twisted in the sheets.
After their years of barren hopes for a son, he often slept alone now.
Another king might have taken a lover who could provide him with a son.
Another king might have simply had his wife murdered or locked
away as a madwoman to dissolve the marriage contract.
But Suddhodana hadn’t done those things. He had remained as fierce
and loyal in love as in war.
Tonight will be different, Maya told herself. I have been blessed. Cautiously,
not wanting to awake Suddhodana too suddenly, she lay beside him on the bed.
Gently she stroked his face, drawing him up from sleep.
His hands turned to fists at first, then his eyes opened and looked into hers.
He started to speak, but she laid a finger over his lips.
She was not wild with desire, not its prisoner or slave. With her
husband’s legs entwined with hers, she didn’t want pleasure as much
as union. She encouraged him with words she never imagined
saying. “Don’t make love to me like a king. Make love like a god.”
The effect was dramatic. Urgently, he reached for her, and she
saw the wonder in his eyes. For so long their coupling had been
perfunctory, neither of them believing that anything would come
of it. But tonight he felt some of the strong belief that had awakened
within her.
When she was ready, she rolled her hips and took him inside
her. Her breath caught in her throat. The strange need within her
reached a crescendo. For a few moments she entered that darkness
of bliss that imitates immortality. Gradually she returned
from it with a sigh, to find that the king was holding her in a tight
embrace. He pulled her to him as if trying to meld his flesh completely
with hers. They kissed and caressed; only her exhaustion
in delight kept Maya from speaking what she knew with certainty:
they had created a child.
*excerpts from the book, BUDDHA - A story of Enlightenment.
In the dim candlelight,Suddhodana lay twisted in the sheets.
After their years of barren hopes for a son, he often slept alone now.
Another king might have taken a lover who could provide him with a son.
Another king might have simply had his wife murdered or locked
away as a madwoman to dissolve the marriage contract.
But Suddhodana hadn’t done those things. He had remained as fierce
and loyal in love as in war.
Tonight will be different, Maya told herself. I have been blessed. Cautiously,
not wanting to awake Suddhodana too suddenly, she lay beside him on the bed.
Gently she stroked his face, drawing him up from sleep.
His hands turned to fists at first, then his eyes opened and looked into hers.
He started to speak, but she laid a finger over his lips.
She was not wild with desire, not its prisoner or slave. With her
husband’s legs entwined with hers, she didn’t want pleasure as much
as union. She encouraged him with words she never imagined
saying. “Don’t make love to me like a king. Make love like a god.”
The effect was dramatic. Urgently, he reached for her, and she
saw the wonder in his eyes. For so long their coupling had been
perfunctory, neither of them believing that anything would come
of it. But tonight he felt some of the strong belief that had awakened
within her.
When she was ready, she rolled her hips and took him inside
her. Her breath caught in her throat. The strange need within her
reached a crescendo. For a few moments she entered that darkness
of bliss that imitates immortality. Gradually she returned
from it with a sigh, to find that the king was holding her in a tight
embrace. He pulled her to him as if trying to meld his flesh completely
with hers. They kissed and caressed; only her exhaustion
in delight kept Maya from speaking what she knew with certainty:
they had created a child.
*excerpts from the book, BUDDHA - A story of Enlightenment.
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