Love Wild and Fair (57 page)

She tore her head away from him, her eyes wide, gasping great gulps of air to clear her mind. Her hands flew up, palms against his hairy chest, trying to hold him off. He laughed low and, catching her hands in his, forced them behind her back so that once again their bodies were intimately pressing against each other. Again he took deliberate possession of her mouth, and when his tongue darted deep within her mouth, lightly touching, hungrily stroking, she felt deep within her the banked fires flicker into flame. Slowly she ceased her resistance, and began instead to respond to the warm pressure of his mouth.

Feeling her yield, he brought one hand around to delicately caress a round breast. “Incili …” His voice was low, edged with passion. “You rouse me as no woman ever has,” and he was leading her through an alcove to a large bed upon a dais. Falling backwards onto the bed, he gently drew her down to him. He held her just slightly above him so that her breasts hung like ripe fruits. Lifting his head to them, he licked the nipples, sending shock waves of desire racing through her. Turning her over onto her back, his dark head dipped, and his mouth closed hungrily over a breast, nursing on it eagerly, sending streaks of hot delight through her. His lips began a tortuous exploration of her beautiful body, searing her. And then he saw her tiny mole—that outrageously enticing little mark of Venus—perched high atop the cleft of her womanhood. His hand reached down to loosen his pantaloons. Squirming against her, he worked them down and off, returning his attention to the fascinating little mole that beckoned him onward.

His eyes widened with delight, and a little smile touched his lips. The mole was an invitation impossible to ignore. He bent and kissed it, pleased with the tremor that shook her. Now he was almost level with her again, and taking her hand, he guided it to touch him, groaning when her hand closed over him.

He gazed down for a moment at the beautiful woman beneath him. For the first time in his life he believed he had a woman whose sexual appetite matched his own. Her hand released him, and he swung over her, his hands gently spreading her thighs. He knelt between her legs now, and she raised her eyes to him, gasping at the great blue-veined ivory shaft that sprang from the black mat between his legs. Grasping her buttocks, he drew her slowly towards him and impaled her on his swollen manhood.

For a surprised moment he almost lost his control, for she was not only warm and moist but almost as tight as a virgin. Feeling her squeezing him, he groaned with delight. Regaining control of himself, he began to move smoothly within her. Then he slowly lowered her to the bed, straddling her more comfortably. Her body was covered in a fine damp mist, and her head thrashed wildly on the pillow. His big hands caressed her gently, and his voice sought to sooth her. Suddenly the leaf-green eyes opened and looked into his gray-blue ones. She began to weep softly.

“No, Incili. No, my exquisite one,” he said tenderly. “I see the shadow of another man in your beautiful eyes. I would vanquish that man, for you will never see him again. You are mine for eternity!” he exulted. “Yield yourself completely to me, my beloved!”

“I cannot,” she sobbed. “I cannot!”

The teasing hands caressed her again, and his lips pressed little kisses on her face and throat. “I will make you forget him,” the deep voice promised. And again he began the sweet rhythm of passion, losing himself in her warmth and sweetness. When he had brought them to a tumultuous climax he held the weeping woman against his broad chest until, exhausted, she sobbed herself to sleep.

She slept like a child, relaxed and curled into a little ball. Smiling, he rose from the tumbled bed and, moving to a low table, poured himself a goblet of fresh orange sherbet. Sprawling on some cushions, he thoughtfully sipped and watched his beautiful sleeping slave. Hammid had been right, she was worth special handling. But Allah! She was a challenge! He had but to command, and the women of his harem strove to please him. Even his proud princess of a wife was eager that he be happy.

With Incili, however, the positions were reversed. It was he who was striving to win her over. He would continue to do so until he possessed her body and her soul. Never had he known such ecstasy as tonight’s. He shivered, thinking what she would be like when she finally yielded herself to him completely.

C
AT awoke, surprised to find herself back in her own bed. Sitting up, she asked Susan, “How did I get back here?”

“He
brought you. Lord Cicalazade himself! He said you looked so peaceful he did not want to disturb you. I was so frightened when he walked through the door carrying you, but he was very kind, not at all the monster I thought he would be. I like him.”

“He is not a cruel man,” Cat said dully. Then her voice began to quiver. “But I cannot reconcile myself to this life, Susan. I want my Francis! I want to go home! I want to be free!” And she began to cry.

When she had wept for some minutes without stopping, Susan sent a slave for the eunuch Osman, who hurried in, demanding, “What is it, Mara?”

“It is my lady, sir. She will not stop crying! I have done everything!”

Osman bent over Cat. “Why do you weep, Incili? Does something pain you?”

Cat ignored him. In frustration, Osman sent for Hammid. The grand eunuch arrived and quietly dismissed Susan and Osman from the room. Then he sat down by Cat’s bed and waited. The hysterical weeping continued for some minutes, then began to abate slowly until finally it stopped entirely. She sat up, her face wet and swollen. Wordlessly he handed her a large red silk handkerchief. After mopping her face, she noisily blew her nose.

“Very well, Incili, tell me what troubles you,” he said.

“Everything!” she burst out. “I want to be free! I cannot bear being cooped up like this! In my country women are free to roam their own lands. Here I am confined to the harem and a daily walk in a walled garden. I hate it! I hate it!”

Hammid nodded understandingly. This was not an uncommon problem with new captives, and he was willing to make great concessions to see that this woman was content For years he had sought for a woman who could balance Lateefa Sultan’s influence over his master. The Ottoman princess was beautiful and clever. She had dutifully borne her husband three sons and twin daughters, but her sex drive was low. Consequently she did not mind that her husband kept a large harem to satisfy his great appetite. But Hammid worried that his master might fall under the influence of the wrong woman. The wrong woman could turn Hammid’s carefully tended household into a battleground of warring factions. The wrong woman could even affect national policy as long as Cicalazade Pasha was a vizier to Sultan Mohammed.

In Incili he had found exactly what he sought to counterbalance his royal mistress. He had quickly ascertained that she was not only intelligent, but ethical. She was a beauty with a wisdom seldom found in women. Most important of all, he had seen that her sexual appetite could be as great as his master’s. Hammid even believed that Lateefa Sultan and Incili could be friends, and with these two women he hoped to aid Cicalazade in becoming a great vizier. For Hammid was an ambitious man, and to be master of a great man’s household was a goal worth his reaching for.

“I will gain permission for you to walk in Lateefa Sultan’s garden. It is not walled, but open to sea and sky. I will also suggest to our master that he take you cruising in his caique. Would you like that?” She nodded. “And later,” he continued, “when you are more settled, I will allow you trips to the bazaars of the city.”

“Oh, yes, please, Hammid!”

“Good! Now, are the hysterics gone?”

“Yes.”

He smiled in a kindly fashion. “I am pleased, Incili. Lord Cica spoke to me this morning of his delight with you. You have pleasured him as no woman ever has. You are to go to him again tonight.”

Cat’s mind raced. She thought to herself, If I must endure this for the present, I will make it as pleasant for myself and for Susan as possible.

She looked at the grand eunuch. “I have no clothing. The lowliest maiden in this harem has more to wear than I! Am I to be parceled out little gauze garments each night? If I am to please my lord Cica then I must be allowed to choose my own wardrobe. It has been my experience, Hammid, that it takes more than skill in a man’s bed to hold him. Or perhaps you really do not care if Cica Pasha grows quickly bored with me.”

Hammid was delighted. She might not be completely ready to yield herself, but this typically feminine interest in clothing was extremely encouraging.
“I
will send for the women bazaar vendors so you may choose whatever you like. If you see materials you also fancy, buy them! I will have our seamstresses fashion garments for you. You may also purchase jewelry, cosmetics, and perfumes.” He was feeling very generous. “When you have made your choices, Osman will see that the women are paid.”

The bazaar vendors brought an enormous variety of things for Cat to look at. Cat treated herself generously, buying several dozen gauze blouses in whites and colors, pantaloons with matching jackets and long caftans in lime green, mauve, lilac, turquoise, pale blue, and blossom pink. She found several bolts of fabric that pleased her, a deep-blue silk embroidered with tiny silver stars, a heavy red satin, a pale-green brocade shot with gold threads, and two gauzes—one of gold, the other of silver.

From the cosmetic vendor she bought only a little kohl, refusing the white mercury paste, the henna, and the red paste used to color lips.

The perfume vendor fared better, leaving three crystal flasks with Cat. One held musk, one a fragrance of wild spring flowers, and the third a foresty thing of green fern and moss with just a hint of ambergris.

Now came women with trays of jewelry, and Cat bought carefully—a dozen little gold bangles and a dozen of silver. Delicate gold chains, some plain, some studded with amethyst, garnet, topaz, aquamarine, or peridot caught her fancy. She bought several ropes of beads, both pink and white coral, turquoise and jade. She bought ropes of pearls strung on thin gold wires, and earrings to go with everything else she had already bought.

When Osman protested her extravagance, she rounded on him. “Go to the grand eunuch, insect! If he says no, then I will obey.” Osman sighed and paid the happy vendors.

She ate lightly and then spent two luxurious hours in the harem baths being pampered, for word had already reached the bath mistress of Cat’s favor with the master. Back in her room, she slept to be awakened in early evening, when she again ate lightly of fresh yogurt and fruit.

Studying the garments she had purchased, she decided upon the lime green. The ankles of the silk pantaloons had bands of a slightly deeper green, embroidered in gold-thread flowers. With it she wore a sheer, long-sleeved gauze silk blouse striped in the two greens, and topped it with a short, sleeveless lime-green silk jacket with its sides and bottom banded in heavy gold embroidery and seed pearls. The bolero was fringed in tiny pearls. Below her hips was tied a gold-and-green striped silk sash. Her kid slippers were studded with pearl flowers. Over her long, dark-gold hair she wore a long diaphanous green silk veil. About her neck she had fastened a rope of jade and a rope of pearls. Gold bangles jingled on her arms, and gold-and-jade earrings bobbed from her ears.

Hammid’s fat face split into a wide grin when he saw her. “Magnificent, Incili!” he exclaimed. “You have taste, and a flair for style.” He escorted her as far as the door to the vizier’s bedchamber. There he left her, saying, “I wish you joy this night.”

She walked into the room calmly to find him waiting. She saw the approval in his gray-blue eyes, and he teasingly said, “I hear you have been spending my money.” Reaching out, he pulled the veils from her face and head.

“You imply you find favor with me, my lord,” she said coolly, “yet until today the lowliest female in your harem had more than I. I am neither a greedy nor an acquisitive woman, but I must have clothes.”

“With or without them you are the loveliest of women, Incili,” and she saw the quick desire flickering in his eyes.

Seeing a chess set on the low table, she quickly asked, “Will you play with me my lord Cica?”

He was amused. “Do you play?” he asked.

“Very well, or so both my husbands told me,” she answered with a poise she was far from feeling.

His hand indicated the pillows opposite the ivory chess pieces, while he himself sat opposite the black onyx ones. Then suddenly a wicked light came into his eyes, and he said, “Wait!” She looked questioningly at him. “Remove your jacket, and your blouse, Incili. If you would forestall the inevitable, I shall at least have the delightful pleasure of your breasts.” She flushed, and he was pleased. She was angry but she was forced to obey him. She was a wonderful, wild thing, and he was very much enjoying their battle. Eventually, of course, he would tame her completely. The thought of her begging his favors excited him greatly and, like a great beast, his manhood awoke and stretched itself.

She played with a serious concentration that he admired, and because he could not take his eyes from her beautiful breasts, he found himself in danger of losing to her. She deliberately thrust her breasts forward and moved in such a way that they bobbed provocatively. In order to even the odds again, he moved around the table to sit next to her. Casually putting an arm about her, he fondled a soft breast, enjoying her disconcerted gasp and the sudden hardening of a rosy nipple. His head dropped, and he kissed her silken shoulder while moving his king piece into an apparently vulnerable position. Flustered and unthinking Cat quickly moved her queen piece, and was horrified to hear the vizier chuckle. “Check, my distracting beauty, and—” he pushed her back into the pillows—"mate!”

Before she had realized what was happening he was atop her, laughing down at her. His hands stroked the tight, quivering globes beneath his touch. “Do not be angry with me, my sweet Incili. You are too delicious to resist, and I do not want to play games with you, I want to make love to you.”