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Authors: Nicola Italia

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BOOK: The Sheik and the Slave
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***

Katharine walked slowly into the bath. It was a large,
rectangular-shaped bath with three steps down into it, decorated with coral and
brown tiles. There was a seat in the bath that ran the entire length of it. At
its deepest, the small pool was five feet.

Mohammed demanded that scent of oud be left burning always
in the bath. Candles were lit low and intimate and the room was cool and
welcoming.

The water pooled around her legs, then between her legs, and
then up to her waist. She had been summoned for her first day of duties.

Mohammed arrived shortly and removed his simple white robe
as Katharine quickly averted her eyes. He smiled at this and stepped into the
warm water. He sighed with contentment and took a seat as the water enveloped
him. She remained standing. He placed his arms along the edges of the small
pool and enjoyed the quiet moment.


What
do you want me to do?

Katharine asked softly.


Bathe
me. That is all.

He
settled back and she walked to him, the water moving around her. She picked up
the small Luf sea sponge and dipped it into the water. Then, she swallowed
lightly and moved toward him.

She moved to the side of him, kept her eyes above the water,
and looked around the room. They were no servants about and she thought that
odd.

His back was large and he was the color of light nutmeg. She
moved the sponge along his broad back, arms and neck. He kept his arms along
the rim of the pool as she performed her work. She moved to his chest and saw his
darker nipples. She moved the sponge across his chest, blushing as she did.

Mohammed watched her face so intently as she touched his
body and saw her blush pink, which spread across her cheeks. She pulled her
hair back and leaned across to sponge the front of his arms, forearms, wrists
and hands.

She looked up at him expectantly and asked,

What else do I wash?


All
of me, princess,

he
answered.

Katharine blushed again at his pet name and knew he knew she
hated it. Then, she sponged his strong muscled legs and feet submerged under
the water, while looking away from him.

He watched her eyes dart around, trying not to look at him,
and he smiled. The tips of her hair had fallen into the water as she bent over
to sponge his legs and feet. He picked a lock of her blonde hair and brought it
to his nose. It smelled of vanilla.


Stop,

she breathed out quietly
and tried to straighten up. She didn

t
want to be alone with him. She felt weak and anxious. She was touching him in
places she should not and knew that he relished every moment.


I

m not fully bathed yet,

he sighed into her ear
as he held her slim wrists to him. They both knew only his cock remained
unwashed.


Yes,
you are,

she
argued.


Do
you want the sponge or your mouth to finish the last part of me?

he asked softly.

She blushed deeply and her blue eyes met his brown ones.


That
is a whore

s trick.
Send for one of them,

she said. She tried not to look at his large cock underneath the water.


I
want you,

he spoke
lowly in her ear. She tried to escape his grasp.

His face was so handsome, she thought. Bronzed and
beautiful, with cutting cheekbones and his facial hair seemed more suited for a
pirate than a sheik.


Please,

she breathed out.

It suddenly occurred to him that she never called him
anything. She never spoke to him. She had never called him sir, or sheik, and
certainly never Mohammed, because no woman did. He suddenly wanted desperately
to hear his name on her little rosebud lips. He ached to hear her call his
name, just as she would one day in the midst of her orgasm when his cock filled
her tight pussy.


I
will give you leave today, in return for a favor,

he told her.

Katharine almost felt elated and then shuddered, wondering
what he would ask of her.

Yes?

she replied.


I
would hear you speak my name,

he said. His heartbeat felt heavy.


I

m sorry?

she asked. Katharine
didn

t understand.


My
name. I would hear it on your lips in lieu of no more washing.

Katharine could feel his large hands still encircling her
slim wrists and the sponge beneath her right hand. Her hands had been resting
on his thighs as he held her close to him. He sat reclining on the small bench
underneath the water while she stood in the water before him.


Y-your
name?

she
stuttered.


Yes,
princess. My name on your lips. That

s
all I require for today. In fact, I will even bathe myself the rest of the day
so that you may enquire upon some better skills as a bather from Bashasha,

he spoke sarcastically
as she looked into his eyes.

Her eyes were so blue, and he found himself wanting to drown
in them.


But
why?

she asked him,
unsure. Why did it matter? Why should she say his name? She was nothing to him.


I
would hear it, little falcon,

he replied. He remained in the water, but his cock had grown and hardened. He
wanted her. He ached to break apart her slim hymen and watch as she turned
dusky pink from their lovemaking.

He released her wrists from under the water and she suddenly
turned away from him. As she turned away from him, he reached under the water
and stroked his cock. Oh, what a mistake! It hardened and lengthened, readying
itself for the pussy it wanted. He wanted no other woman than the little virgin
who stood before him.

Her hair cascaded down her back and he wanted to tie it
around his fist and bend her over the bath

s
walls and pound into her. She would cry and beg him for more

he knew she would. All
women did.

Katharine did not want to do as he asked. Speaking his name
aloud seemed so intimate, and she was sure no other harem woman did that. Why?
Why was he asking this? Why not force her to submit?

He closed his eyes as he stroked his throbbing cock and then
released it as she turned around.


Very
well. I don

t
remember your name, so you

ll
have to tell me again,

she said. Katharine

s
eyes were downcast as she spoke the last part, still clutching the sponge.


Certainly,

he agreed.


Do
you wish me to say anything else? Or just your name?

She watched his eyes as he watched her.


Only
my name. And look at me when you say it,

he added. Their eyes locked again and she tore hers away.

Katharine cringed at the intimacy of it all and forced
herself to look at his dark beauty. She nodded.


My
name is Mohammed,

he said.

After my father
and the great prophet.

Katharine grinded her teeth as he spoke and his eyes flashed
darkly in the sparsely-lit bath. The room was cool and intimately lit, with
sunlight pouring in from glass windows on the ceiling.


Mohammed,

she spoke lowly. At the
last syllable, she looked away from him.


Come
here, princess. You are too far away. I can barely hear you,

he said. His voice was
low and warm. She had stepped away from him when he had released her hands, but
he wanted her closer.

She stepped directly in front of him, so close she could run
her fingers over his chest. He reached out and took the sponge from her; it was
her only tangible lifeline tethering her to sanity.


Again,

he said.


Mohammed,

she repeated. Her lips
puckered as she spoke his name and he couldn

t
stop his desire.


Once
more,

he commanded.
He watched her lips pucker as she breathed out.


Moha,

she began. With his name
still on her lips, he pulled her against him suddenly. His mouth descended upon
hers and devoured her breath and his name. His tongue delved into her mouth, as
he had dreamed about so many times. He had been inside her with his mouth and
fingers but he had never kissed her before, and he reveled in it. He pulled her
slim hips to him and she was nestled between his legs.

His hands moved to touch her face and his tongue delicately
opened her mouth. His fingers threaded into her golden hair as his lips took
hers. He would not stop.


Ah!

she exclaimed and backed
away from him suddenly, holding her hand before her mouth.

Her tongue darted out and he saw that he had bit her. He saw
a drop of blood.


Katharine,

he said, starting to
apologize, but then he realized what he was doing. He had never apologized to
any woman for anything.

She tried to lower her eyes before he saw the tears in them,
but it was too late. He saw them.


Is
there anything else?

she asked.


No,

he replied.

Katharine left the bath and felt the water sluicing down her
body, leaving a trail of her wet footprints along the tiles. When he could no
longer see or hear her, she felt tears falling down her cheeks. She was so
frightened. The feelings he aroused in her were strange and very strong. She
couldn

t fight them
forever.

She knew it was only a matter of time.

Chapter
4

There was great excitement in the harem the next day. Women
were throwing open their wooden chests and opening drawers to pick their finest
clothes for the evening.

The sheik had prepared a large musical festival for the
palace, and a smaller concert had been arranged for the harem women. The women
were kept separate to protect them from male eyes and to preserve the honor of
the family. However, Mohammed thought of them and wanted them to enjoy the
festivities.

The traditional Arabian music usually consisted of the oud,
qanun, nay and sagat. The music was lively, but could also be solemn and
yearning when partnered with a singer. The oud was a beautiful instrument and
could be compared to the Western guitar. The nay was a flute and could sound
hauntingly beautiful.

"We will have a fine evening with all the accomplished
musicians," cried Gameela, happily trying on her beautiful jewel-toned
clothes.

Nahweh, the West African girl with dark skin, chose a deep
blue outfit that complimented her.

The women stood around in small groups, discussing the
upcoming concert and ready to attend the party, as Katharine approached
Bashasha.

"Bashasha, may I speak with you?" Katharine asked.

"Of course, little one, what is it?" Bashasha
asked her.

"May I stay behind for a little while? I never have any
time to myself and don

t
enjoy public bathing. It's very uncomfortable for me," she said. Katharine
struggled with her frustration.

Bashasha tried to stem her impatience. She had heard that
the English were a cold, restrained people, and Katharine seemed ashamed of her
own body.

"As it's a concert, everyone will be there.

Katharine continued.

The sheik has planned
dozens of activities and will have no need of me. I will certainly not be
missed. Please," she lowered her voice at this last request.

Bashasha watched as the other women made their way down to
the quiet gardens and knew that Katharine would not be missed.

"All right little one. You are excused, but only for a
short while. When you have bathed and are ready, please join us. I don't want
the other women accusing me of favoritism and I certainly don't want to explain
your absence, should anyone ask. I will say the sheik asked for you."

"Thank you, Bashasha," she said. Katharine watched
the last of the women leave the harem and sighed with relief.

***

Mohammed had been watching the women leave for their concert
from his private balcony high above. He noticed his favorites leave, and then
the kindly Bashasha exited, but he failed to see the little falcon.

He had rested poorly the night before. Her lips beckoned him
into a fitful sleep and had he not been an educated man, he would have been
convinced of witchcraft. He relived their bath again and again in his mind and
could not escape it. Her hair smelling of vanilla, her soft lips underneath his
and urging him on no matter what she said. Her breasts and hips curving into
his own body and his cock, even now, hard and thrusting forward, wanting to
tear into her body. He wanted to feel the rippled walls of her tight pussy as
she lifted her legs around his waist. He would relish the feel of her nails on
his back as she raked them, leaving her mark on him. He would claim her
virginity as no other man had or would and watch her grow round with his son,
the next sheik.

BOOK: The Sheik and the Slave
5.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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