Confessions of a Sheba Queen

by Autumn Bardot

  Gold, jewels, spices, textiles, pelts, feathers, and other precious items paraded past Solomon in chests carried by my brawniest men.

  Solomon leaned toward me. “Saba is indeed wealthy.”

  “I have made it the most prosperous nation in all the land.”

  Next, Faiza, the minister of trade, read the list of goods we had to trade.

  “Impressive,” said Solomon. “My auditors will be busy for weeks. A trade agreement will be advantageous for both of us, and I’m eager to begin discussions. But there’s a small problem.”

  My hand twitched, the smallest lapse in my serene demeanor. “Is that so?”

  Solomon stretched out his arm. “These gifts and goods are all valuable things.” He turned to me, his voice low, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Have you any services to trade?”

  “What did you have in mind?” I purred.

  Solomon dragged his thumb over his lip. “Mutually beneficial ones.”

  “Those are the best kind.”

  “Is that so?” He grinned, then called for one of his favorite forms of entertainment, a public exchange of riddles. It was at that moment that I recalled the Oracle’s prophetic dream about a wealthy king in a far-off land, his fabulous palace, and riddles. The one I had dismissed as nonsense. Every part now proved true.

  One riddle in particular had me laughing. The first was about two barefoot men who came upon a hungry lion. One man tied on his sandals, proclaiming they would save his life. How was this possible? The answer was simple: the sandals would not save him, but his ability to outrun the other man without the protective footwear would.

  After a successful test of wits, a troupe of dancers entertained us. Although heartened by Solomon’s delightful welcome, I was glad when the king took us to our new quarters, a small palace nearby with all the luxuries due a queen and her entourage.

  “Join me later this evening.” King Solomon took a wide stance and put his hands on his hips. “We will review a few trade requirements.”

  I mimicked Solomon’s commanding posture. “We will begin a discussion, nothing more.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Details are best left to accountants.” Solomon walked toward the door. He paused for a moment to stare at Shani. “Are you an Amazon?”

  “No, your Excellency.” Shani’s brows drew together. “Although such parentage might explain my gift for fighting.”

  King Solomon looked back at me. “Is this woman your bodyguard?”

  “Among other things.”

  An odd look crossed Solomon’s face and then he burst out laughing. “You are a beautiful enigma, Bilqīs, and a mystery I will enjoy solving.”

  CHAPTER 47

  King Solomon strode out the door and into the bright afternoon glare.

  “Oh my, such penetrating eyes.” Duvsha fluttered her hand over her heart. “And his smile lights up a room.”

  “Just sitting next to him made me horny,” I said. “He has it all—good looks, charm, an impressive physique, and power.” The combination was a potent aphrodisiac.

  “Are you in need of relief?” Though Shani’s voice was matter-of-fact, her eyes brightened with hope.

  It was tempting, but working off my sexual frustration with Shani or a stallion or two was unwise. A spy could be anywhere, perhaps in a hollowed wall, his eye looking through a tiny peephole.

  “Not now, but I do need a bath.” And a quick orgasm to take off the edge. Focus was required to negotiate with Solomon.

  Duvsha told the handmaidens to ready the bath as she lifted my dress over my head.

  “It seems the king’s servants anticipated your needs.” The handmaiden gestured to a bright hallway. “It’s already prepared.”

  Moments later I stepped into the rose-petal infused bathwater. “Is everyone situated? Any problems?” I slid into the warmth.

  Duvsha closed the thick drapes around us. “The Magus doesn’t like his room. He says it’s too far away from you, which, he says, reveals your lack of faith in him and his power over nature.” Duvsha rolled her eyes. “He also asked when we would see the jinn that supposedly work Solomon’s quarries and build his temple. He seems overly eager.”

  “He wants to see for himself if Hasan’s fear of jinn was justified. Or else discover how Solomon commands them.” I sunk into the depths of the copper tub. “I wouldn’t mind seeing these jinn myself.” I spread my thighs and rested my head on the ledge. “Duvsha?”

  Duvsha knew my needs and pushed her fingers into my fleshly pillow and found my clit. I thought of Solomon’s hands on my body, his lips on my skin, his body over mine. I imagined the size of his cock and its solid length pushing inside.

  I arched my back into a swift succession of little gasps.

  “So quickly?” she asked.

  “Another.” I was hornier than I realized.

  “You need a cock. Luckily, I came prepared.” Duvsha rummaged through the bathing basket containing all my soaps, scrubs, and fragrances. “This one okay?” She held up one of Kepha’s stone cocks.

  “Perfect.”

  Duvsha slid it inside me, her other hand gliding over my clit. I fantasized Solomon thrusting—and my body quivered again.

  “Oh my,” said Duvsha. “Thinking of Solomon?”

  “The man has me quite undone.” There was something special about Solomon that inflamed my senses and stirred my heart. A decided disadvantage. Trade was my goal. Not infatuation. I must maintain the upper hand. Lust must not guide my decisions.

  “You’re lost in thought.” Duvsha offered me a thick towel. “Planning your trade deal?”

  “Solomon will be a tough negotiator.” I waved away the towel and walked naked through the drapes, relishing the shiver of the air on my wet skin.

  “I have a wonderful idea for your makeup tonight.” Shani twirled a makeup brush in her hand.

  “Not tonight. I want to appear innocent and naïve.”

  Shani puffed out her lower lip. “No sparkly eyelids?”

  I shook my head. “I want Solomon to underestimate me, to think I am too young to match his intellect and negotiation skills. I want to look like an innocent flower in his opulent palace.”

  “Whatever for?” Duvsha rifled through my selection of dresses.

  “I’ll have the upper hand if he underestimates me, which means I’ll be able to manipulate him without his knowing.” I rubbed my hands together. Toying with the great King Solomon was going to be fun.

  Duvsha held out an adorned dress for my approval.

  “Too ornate.”

  “It’s a trade deal. You’ve negotiated with many kings, all dressed and bedazzled like a goddess. Why a homespun look?”

  “Solomon is different.” In fact, I had met my match.

  I rejected all of Duvsha’s dress suggestions until finally settling on a formfitting linen the exact shade of my skin.

  Duvsha wrapped its matching sash tight from ribs to lower hips. From a distance I would appear nude. Around my neck, I wore a single strand of brilliantly cut rubies, my favorite piece made by Kepha. Even my flesh-tone sandals were understated, except for the tiny emerald embroidery, which appeared as though a single leaf had fallen on my foot.

  “I can make you very innocent looking,” said Shani.

  I sat on the raised chair. “Work your magic.”

  Shani smoothed on a goat milk lotion, which gave my skin a youthful glow. She added a crushed pearl cream to my cheekbones and under my brow, then sprinkled diamond dust on my cleavage.

  My tinted and glossy mouth looked as though I had just licked my lips. Shani enhanced my eyelashes with a dark tincture. She brushed my thick hair with a rose-scented balm until it shone like polished onyx.

  “Perfection.” Shani covered my hair with a sheer red veil.

  I looked into the tall copper mirror propped on carved lions’ feet in the middle of the room. “Let the trade negotiations begin.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Ten armed, brawny palace guards escorted
me down a pathway that wound through lush green gardens with fountains, alabaster statues, and grottos. Next they led me through hallways and courtyards. It was a rather circuitous route meant to confuse me. It did not.

  They stopped at a simple yet large cedar door. A side entrance no doubt.

  Solomon himself opened it. My lips twitched with amusement. This must be his idea of an informal, off-the-record meeting.

  Solomon’s eyes widened. In the twilight I appeared naked. He blinked, blinked again, and then bestowed upon me his thousand-sun grin. He had expected a queen, not a young woman.

  “Welcome.” Solomon stepped back from the door and swept his hand into the room.

  I crossed the threshold. “Good evening.”

  Solomon told the guards to wait outside. Except for two, which followed us inside.

  “Guards?” I asked.

  “A precaution.” Solomon’s lips drew into an impish smile. “Should you seek to indulge your taste for chopping off kings’ heads.”

  I had not anticipated armed guards. Then again, it might be fun. “Of course.” I ran my fingers over the long necklace. “Rubies in the hands of a woman are most dangerous.” I gestured to his guards, and my voice was ripe with sexual promise. “I confess, I’m far less cautious than you.”

  His eyes widened at my suggestive innuendo. “Some activities require restraint. Others, uninhibited impulse.” His gaze swept over my body. “Your humble attire is duly noted and appreciated. I see you come without pretense or the trappings of power.”

  “It seems we are of like minds.” I gestured to his informal clothing, a short blue linen tunic and a swath of purple draped over one shoulder.

  The guards fell in behind us as Solomon showed me through a red-and-gold-painted vestibule and into his personal chamber. This room was more elaborate than his throne room, with marble statues, carved furniture, vibrant murals, and a ceiling fresco of winged creatures flying through a starry indigo sky.

  The man valued luxury and excess. I worried my plain attire was a mistake.

  “I thought it better we dine alone.” Solomon flicked his gaze at the guards. “Almost alone.”

  “A ruler is seldom alone.” I sat at a table laden with plums, dates, and honey-drizzled tartlets.

  Our conversation flowed like a river after a downpour. We discussed the worries of leadership and all that came with it, like dishonest merchants, scheming advisors, and stubborn ministers. We deferred trade talk for learning about each other, and delighted in our shared philosophies, goals, and ambitions. Neither of us tolerated prejudice, cruelty, selfishness, and profiting from the poor’s hardships. We agreed that compassion and empathy combined with fair justice was difficult, a responsibility that clung to us awake or asleep. We discussed the nature of truth, and how it was so easily tangled with lies and misunderstandings.

  After the meal, Solomon stood by the slim window with a view of Jerusalem. “I’ve traveled far and met many women, but never have I met a woman like you.”

  “I should think not.”

  Solomon turned from the window, his admiration obvious. “Your mind is as sharp and nimble as a man’s.”

  “Intellect is not a trait exclusive to men. Nor are men immune from stupidity.” I rose from the table—both guards snapping to attention as I stood—and joined Solomon.

  “Agreed. I propose we trade advisors.” One side of Solomon’s mouth curved upward. “My senseless men for your intelligent women.” His fingers brushed the edge of my sheer red veil and gave it a gentle tug.

  “Not a chance,” I said as the veil slipped from my head onto my shoulders.

  “Lovely.” His hand skimmed over my dark glossy waves.

  “My hair is not available for trade either.”

  “Are you certain? I have something in mind you may like in exchange.” He lifted the veil to his nose, inhaled deeply, then draped it around his neck.

  “Is it mutually beneficial?” I looked up at him, my eyes conveying our shared yearnings.

  “Always,” whispered Solomon as he shrugged off his purple mantle and pulled his blue tunic over his head.

  My teeth raked over my lower lip. Oh my.

  Solomon was robust and muscular, his limbs like that of a hardened warrior, not soft from idle luxury like a king’s. Tight black curls spread across his broad chest, short spirals to rake my fingers through. A downy line narrowed at his taut stomach and descended into his thick thatch, which was shaved into an upside-down pyramid. I longed to touch his long, rigid cock, which stood to attention like the most zealous of soldiers.

  With a teasing slowness, I tugged the veil from his neck. “Negotiating requires scrupulous attention to detail.” I wrapped my veil like a sash around his slim hips.

  The guards, I noticed, were wide-eyed, their attention riveted on the royal tableau of seduction that was playing out before them. A frisson of pleasure nestled between my loins each time I thought of our eager spectators.

  “You’ve just convinced me that your methods of negotiation are clearly superior.”

  “I’m glad you’re open to new things.” I took off my ruby necklace and hung the long strand on his cock.

  Solomon put both hands on his hips. “They looked infinitely better around your neck, Bilqīs.”

  “I disagree.” Without touching his cock, which eagerly jerked and twitched, I looped the strand over him again.

  Solomon was enthralled with my game, his eyes lust glazed. I looped the strand a third time, then a fourth, my fingers careful never to so much as graze his cock. Again and again I looped and tugged the strand so it tightened around him. His breath hitched with desire, his gaze shifting back and forth from me to his ruby-wrapped cock.

  “Beautiful,” I said when only the tip poked out.

  “A bit over adorned, don’t you think?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

  “Is it?” My fingers gently enclosed his bejeweled cock. I pulled, and hundreds of beads revolved and tightened around him.

  “Ooooh.” Solomon groaned, overcome with sensation.

  I couldn’t help but smile. He was under my sway. At least at this moment. I tugged again, saw his cock twitch and expand. “Still think you are overly jeweled?”

  “I…” He panted as his head rolled to the side. “Ahhh…”

  I tugged again and again, then readied my hand. This seduction was far from over.

  His engorged cock snapped the thread, and ruby beads fell to the floor as cum shot out. I caught every creamy drop.

  Solomon stared, his eyes bright with astonishment. “You’re fully clothed. You didn’t touch me. And yet…” He looked down at his cock. “Had I any doubts of your jinn heritage, they’re gone now.” He touched my shoulder. “I must fuck you…allow me to fuck you.”

  I scooped his cum from my palm with my finger and stirred it into my wine. “Not yet.” I sat down and gestured to the chair opposite.

  “Give me the pleasure of at least seeing what is beneath your dress. I will be content to gaze from afar. Permit me this, at least.” He sat down and gestured to his cock. “You see? I’m already eager for more.”

  The guards were likewise eager. One guard’s tunic peaked like a tent at his crotch. The other’s was already stained with his release.

  “How can I resist such a request?” I inched the dress over my shoulders.

  Solomon couldn’t look away as I slowly lowered the dress over my golden-brown breasts. My dark areolas and pointed nipples were impatient for his touch.

  “Perfection,” he breathed. “Let me suckle on your magnificent breasts. Let me pleasure you.” He licked his lips. “Let me fuck you. Please.”

  I took a sip of the cum-infused wine. “Delicious.”

  “You dare tease a king?”

  “I dare more than that.” I made circles around my nipples. “Besides, maybe I don’t want to be fucked.”

  “What do you want?”

  I sipped more wine, set it down, then twiddled both my nipple
s. I wanted him. Wanted that cock in my cunt. Wanted his beard to tickle my thighs. Wanted his tongue on my clit. But not yet. I would not let him have me without his working for the privilege. “I haven’t decided.”

  Solomon wrapped his hand around his cock. “Let me decide for you.”

  “Never.” A small moan escaped as I tugged on my nipples. How easy it would be to have it his way, to give in to my desire for him.

  “I beg of you, Bilqīs,” he said as he masturbated. “Let me fuck you.”

  My clit throbbed—my lewd exhibition, the guards’ yearning, Solomon’s hunger, everything incited my own lust. I longed to sit on Solomon’s cock and bounce on his lap. Feel his tongue licking my nipples. I was close to coming…

  I took a deep breath and watched him pleasure himself. He stroked slowly, with a small twist, as though prolonging his ascent.

  He uttered a deep, throaty whimper as I continued to caress myself. Sweet Almaqah, I ached for the man. It happened then. My clit bloomed into orgasm. I gasped with surprise, my body twitching. Did he suspect? I wondered.

  Solomon grunted, his hips thrusting forward, and caught his own cum.

  I held out the goblet.

  “You are not what I expected.” He deposited his cum into it.

  I held the wine aloft. “To trade.” I downed the rest of the wine.

  “To the Queen of Sheba’s excellent negotiating skills.”

  Seeing the proof of his defeat and my victory, I rose from the chair and bade him good night. Guards—the eight waiting outside and the two glazed-eyed witnesses—escorted me back to my quarters.

  “I need a cock,” I said after Shani closed the door behind us.

  “Your wish is my command,” she said.

  “Solomon has spies.” I myself posted the Old Woman Who Listens by the door of all visitors’ chambers back in Ma’rib. I glanced up at the frescoed ceiling. A tiny peephole could be anywhere, lost in the colorful swirls painted on the walls. I lowered my voice. “I don’t want them reporting that my bodyguard has a penis.”

  “Should I fetch one of your stallions? Or all three?”