The Sheik and the Slave

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The Sheik and the Slave Page 11

by Italia, Nicola


  Adib's brown hands moved underneath the young girl's abaya and he knelt before her.

  "Dunya," he whispered, as she sank into the sand to join him.

  "Adib, no. Anyone could come upon us," she whispered back to him.

  "No. Sheik Majeed's brother arrived last night and they are in the main tent taking their meal. We are free to do as we like," he said.

  "Adib," she moaned lightly into his ear. Katharine moved closer to the side of the tent where they were. Adib’s hands touched her breasts and the girl spread her legs as he moved between them.

  "Dunya, you must know I love you. We could have a wonderful life away from this servitude," Adib said to her.

  Katharine’s head fell back as her fingers pushed inside her creamy slit, which was dripping juices as she thought of Mohammed.

  Adib pushed Dunya completely onto her back; his robe was thrust aside in haste. He took his cock in hand and pressed against the entrance of her glistening pussy.

  "Hurry, please Adib," Dunya said. His cock pressed into her cunt and he began to rock into her.

  Katharine could hear their grunts of passion as Adib told the servant girl, "Wrap your legs around me."

  Katharine tried to reach her own climax.

  "Dunya, say yes. Say you will come with me," Adib said.

  Dunya began to climax as Adib spilled his cream into her. He was an awkward lover – too quick to arouse and too quickly finished. But Dunya didn't know the difference, as she had been a virgin before him.

  Katharine climaxed quietly inside the tent.

  "Say you will come with me tonight. We can set sail within the week. We can go anywhere you wish…say yes. We'll be together, Dunya," he said.

  Dunya looked almost lovely in the sand. Her brown body had been sated, and her chunky thighs were still apart as Adib sat between them. Her long hair was messed and tangled.

  "Yes. I will go with you tonight," she told him.

  ***

  Majeed entered the tent a few minutes later to see Katharine. His eyes took in her form and he almost shuddered.

  He knew that he must not let his brother see his new addition. Mohammed, his eldest brother, had shown up unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Mohammed was respected in his realm, and Majeed had always felt like he was second best. Their father had doted upon Mohammed, and Mohammed had never let their father down.

  Mohammed had always been intelligent and wise. He’d given Majeed these lands to oversee and rule as he saw fit. Majeed had married Rana and taken her family in while creating a lasting relationship with the desert people. Mohammed was grateful.

  When he arrived, he had said little. He inquired after Rana and his sons, but nothing more.

  Majeed enjoyed spending time with Mohammed, but that was before the foreign beauty had come into his life. Now that she was in his home, he wanted to spend time wooing and watching her.

  "Did you have your morning meal, beauty?" he asked. Majeed watched her as she looked away from him.

  "Yes, thank you," she replied.

  "Do you enjoy the hospitality here?" he continued.

  "You have been very kind," she answered. Her eyes looked away from his. She didn't want to encourage him in any way.

  He sat before her and deliberately brushed her stiff nipples with his arm as he settled himself. Katharine scooted back a few inches.

  "I only want to be near you," he spoke lowly to her. He knew he was awkward with women and didn’t know how to act. He was not an accomplished lover and seducer like his older brother.

  "I prefer you didn't," Kat spoke to him.

  "Why?"

  "Because it isn't proper," she told him.

  "Proper for whom?" he asked.

  "Where I was raised, men and women don't touch each other like that unless they are married."

  "But this sheik who taught you Arabic?"

  "Yes?" she asked, confused.

  "You were not his wife?"

  "I said I wasn't."

  "Yet you let him touch and taste you?"

  "Yes," Katharine said, looking away.

  "Why would you do that? I thought it wasn't proper," he said, throwing her words back at her.

  "I loved him," she said. "I love him," she corrected herself. She hated this intimate conversation. She didn't want to talk about her feelings for Mohammed with this man.

  "I don't require your love," Majeed told her coldly.

  Majeed's cock throbbed with need, and he looked across at Katharine as she looked away. He stood up abruptly and left her.

  ***

  Rana was folding blankets with the other women in her tent when Majeed came upon them.

  "You may leave," he told the servant women.

  "Majeed?" she questioned him, but he said nothing.

  With no words or affection, he turned her around and forced her with his hand to kneel on the floor. He kneeled behind her and moved the long abaya fabric up her legs and over her rounded hips. The fabric gathered at her waist as Majeed moved his robe out of the way to have access to his cock.

  Rana knew he wanted the foreign girl and was thinking about her long, cream-colored limbs, but she didn't care. She felt his cock between her buttocks and she squeezed her eyes shut at the pleasure she knew was coming. She could feel the bulbous head of his cock, and she arched her back so that he could have access to her slick cunt.

  As his cock sank into her pussy, she moaned like a whore. Majeed had never been a sexual man, and Rana often pleasured herself because his need was not as great as hers. Majeed's hands came up to grasp Rana's hips, and his own hips slapped into hers again and again as his cock slid in and out of her tight pussy.

  He had one hand on her hip, his other hand threaded into her long dark hair, and he jerked her head up like a disobedient mare.

  "Harder," she moaned, like the lowest whore on the street, as her husband took her body, harshly grinding into her hips. He pulled her head back as his hips slapped into hers and she tried to push back against him, wanting him deeper inside her cunt.

  Their grunts were loud and harsh in the tent. Her climax was swift as his thick milk pumped into her body. When she turned around, he was gone, leaving behind his sticky seed inside her pussy. Rana's legs were shaking as she cleaned herself. She knew he had used her, but even though she knew she should be angry, she wasn't. She was sated. She smoothed her dress down over her body and smiled.

  ***

  Almost a half hour later, Mohammed entered Rana’s tent.

  "Hello, Rana," he spoke to her.

  "Mohammed! Dearest, brother!" she exclaimed, kissing him on both cheeks in greeting. Rana had known Mohammed most of her life and was very fond of him. She had always been dazzled by his handsomeness. Though Muslim women were not supposed to bare their faces to men, even male family members, Majeed was not so strict and Mohammed was his brother.

  "Allah be praised that you are well, my sister," he spoke lightly and watched her move away from him to offer him something cool to drink.

  "And you. You are well, brother? What brings you to us, so far from your own home?"

  "I crave peace," he said. Mohammed settled himself before her.

  ***

  Dunya entered the tent with a tray filled with tea, nuts, and dates for the foreign girl and set the tray before her. She tried not to stare at the girl's beauty. Her hair was like a bright light in the dark tent.

  Katharine recognized the chubby little Arab girl from the tryst she’d spied from her tent and knew the girl was going to run away with her boyfriend.

  "I need your help," Katharine said abruptly.

  Dunya was startled at the woman's knowledge of Arabic and even more afraid of her words.

  "I'm only a servant. How can I help you?" she asked. Dunya stared at the tent's flap, wanting to be free.

  "I heard you and your lover outside this tent today. I need your help to escape this place. If I make it to England safely, my family and I can pay you a fortune. I can reimburse you
for my traveling expenses.” She knew her father would reimburse them when she safely returned to England.

  Katharine had a plan in mind. Wearing the long abaya and covering, she could pretend to be a servant to the girl’s lover. He would serve as her escort, as women were not allowed to travel without a man. This ruse would enable her to leave Arabia with no suspicion and be free once and for all.

  Dunya was stunned. She had not known that their conversation was overhead and she had never thought to rescue anyone. But once the money was mentioned, she knew Adib would consent.

  "I must speak with Adib, my lady," Dunya told her.

  "Please let me know before nightfall, and keep this a secret from everyone else. If your answer is no, I must make other plans."

  ***

  Lord Fairfax paced back and forth on the floor of the library. Edward Fairfax had been indulgent with his daughter and had admired her spirit and intelligence in a world where most women lacked both, but he had to wonder how she was faring halfway across the globe.

  When Sarah had returned from shopping in a state of hysteria, it took hours to get the story from her. All she knew was that Katharine had disappeared. Who would dare kidnap his beloved daughter? It was unheard of.

  He had hired Bow Street Runners to track her down and find out what had happened. When the truth emerged, it had been disturbing. Baron Horace Adams had pressed his attentions upon Katharine and been snubbed. It had even been discovered that the repulsive man had offered her position of mistress! When she had rejected him, and rightly so, Edward thought, he had hired mercenaries to kidnap her.

  Edward was in disbelief that his beloved daughter had been subjected to the odious man’s attentions and then become the victim of foul play.

  He tracked down the baron and demanded a duel for his Katharine’s honor. He secretly wanted the man to pay for his actions. The morning of the duel, however, the baron disappeared.

  Edward despaired of ever finding out what became of his daughter until he and his wife attended an extended shooting party in a secluded country estate. There, Edward and Anne made an astonishing discovery. Another gentleman in attendance was an old boyhood friend of Edward's named Martin Eldridge, Earl of Wolcott.

  Martin took Edward aside and privately told him of the coffee purchase expedition he had been on and the powerful sheik who grew and exported it out of Arabia. Other foreign merchants had attended, but it was the appearance of Katharine that had shocked Martin the most. He had tried to speak with her privately, but it had not been possible.

  Edward almost choked on his brandy and Anne swooned when they learned that their beloved daughter was in Arabia and in the hands of a powerful sheik.

  ***

  "And once in England, I will be paid?" Adib asked her.

  "Yes!" she answered. Katharine felt faint with relief. "I speak the truth. My family is there. You will be paid once I can reach them."

  Adib looked strangely at his soon-to-be-wife and the foreign woman. When Dunya had come to him with the tale, he thought she was crazy, but the money soon enticed him to speak to the foreign woman. Now, he was certain. She would accompany them onto the ship as a servant, as women could not travel alone. When they reached England, he and Dunya would be paid in full.

  "I agree," Adib told her.

  ***

  Majeed slept late and woke to the sounds of servants scurrying around, whispering to one another. Once questioned, it was soon revealed that his female servant, Dunya, and his prize possession, the lovely foreigner, were missing.

  When Mohammed came upon his brother, Majeed was in a rage.

  "Calm yourself, my brother. What is it? Can I help?" Mohammed asked, trying to calm his younger brother.

  "A servant has stolen off into the night," Majeed told him.

  Mohammed looked at his brother with uncertainty.

  "Is that all?" he asked.

  Majeed shook his head and explained further.

  "No, no. If it were only she, it would not matter at all. But there is another with her."

  Majeed knew nothing of Dunya's lover, Adib, and assumed incorrectly that the two women must be traveling alone and therefore appearing conspicuous to anyone who might see them.

  "I see," Mohammed replied as he glanced around the tent. It was a large, spacious one, suited to comfort and elegance. He watched his younger brother stride across the room, becoming more agitated.

  "This other. Was it a male servant? A lover to the servant girl who left?" Mohammed inquired.

  "No, No,” Majeed explained, shaking his head. “A precious jewel. A most rare jewel here in the hot, dead desert. A goddess in female form, tempting men to taste her."

  Mohammed looked curiously over at his brother, wondering if he had started drinking the sweet wines earlier in the day than usual.

  "I need to be alone," said Majeed as he stalked out of the tent, leaving Mohammed to stare after him.

  Majeed spent the rest of the day in seclusion, drinking and commiserating over the loss of his found treasure while the treasure was busy making her getaway.

  Adib and Dunya were true to their word. They helped Katharine travel to the coast, where they bought appropriate clothes necessary for their journey. Together, the three booked passage on board the next ship leaving port. Once aboard the ship, Katharine could breathe a sigh of relief.

  Soon she would be home, and all of this would be a distant memory. She grieved at losing Mohammed, but knew in her heart that they were too different to have ever made a life together.

  Perhaps, since she had experienced such joy and pleasure in Mohammed's arms, she would be able to marry a titled lord without feeling the loss of her freedom and independence. She had taken her freedom for granted and now knew what it was to live without it.

  ***

  Mohammed cornered Rana late in the day. He wasn't sure how to address the matter of his brother and he was confused. What jewel had his brother been speaking about? What goddess? Had it been a slave of great beauty from a neighboring tribe? He thought Majeed's behavior to be very strange.

  "My sister," Mohammed greeted her as he entered her tent. The sun was setting low in the distance.

  "Mohammed," Rana said. She motioned for him to sit next to her.

  "I am concerned for my brother," Mohammed continued. Though most men would not deign to speak to a woman regarding another man's state of mind, he trusted and respected Rana's judgment.

  "In what regard?" she asked.

  "He speaks of a jewel, a goddess stolen in the night by the servant. I fear for his mind, sister," he continued. Mohamed looked to her for clarity.

  Rana paled as Mohammed spoke, and she glanced away from him to try to hide her tears. Mohammed grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

  "What is it? Is my brother losing his mind? Tell me! I must know!" he demanded.

  "No, he isn't losing his mind,” she said. “Far from it. But I am losing a husband."

  "Rana, please. You both speak in riddles," Mohammed said. His handsome bronzed face showed concern for his family and their strange talk.

  "Majeed speaks of a woman."

  "A woman? Just a woman?" Mohammed said carelessly, not realizing that Rana was in pain.

  "No, my brother. If she were a mere woman, she would not have caused such torment between us. She is unlike any woman you have ever seen."

  Mohammed was growing irritated by this conversation. He had come to his brother's camp to distract himself from his missing princess, and here they sat discussing a servant's escape and some woman who went with her. She was probably a servant woman who looked like Yasmeen and thus was causing problems for the homely but sweet Rana. But then, Mohammed had never known Majeed to be overly fond of women. He had married and produced children, but sex had never been important to him.

  Rana looked fondly at Mohammed. He was an attractive man, she knew. He had many female admirers and lovers with his bronzed body, dark looks, and intelligence. What would he have thought of the be
auty? Rana wondered. Would he have wanted her too?

  "Majeed and my sons discovered her in the desert," Rana began slowly.

  "Oh yes?" Mohammed feigned interest, but what he really wanted to do was to find Majeed and shake some sense into him. He was a foolish man, letting a servant girl come between his wife and his duties.

  Mohammed had always enjoyed his harem, but his duty had been to Yasmeen, to impregnate her with heirs. When she had failed to birth sons, his interest had begun to wane. Now, a second marriage was inevitable, especially since Yasmeen was missing.

  "She is beautiful. Even my sisters cannot compare," Rana replied, staring wistfully into the distance.

  "That is saying something. Your sisters' beauty is well known," he replied.

  "Yes," Rana said, remembering that her eldest sister had almost married Mohammed.

  "After they brought her here, Majeed seemed captivated. Indeed, I think he thought of little else. He wanted her, I know. He took me once, wishing I was her," she confessed. Rana blushed in the tent. She knew Mohammed would keep her secrets.

  "But Allah the merciful, forgive me. I am glad she is gone. I begged Majeed to send her away," Rana cried out suddenly. "Her beauty is such that it will drive men mad to possess it!"

  Mohammed laid a hand upon her shoulder.

  "Be calm, sister. Perhaps she and the other servant will find work together in the city," he said.

  "Perhaps. But I do not think she was a servant," Rana said, shaking her head. "No, she was not a servant."

  "I'm going to find Majeed. He needs to see reason and stop behaving like a foolish boy." Mohammed said as he stood up to leave Rana’s tent.

  Rana smiled.

  "You are a good man. A good brother," she said to him.

  Mohammed turned to go. He was almost to the tent's opening when he heard Rana whisper softly, "I have never seen hair that color, like the golden sands of the Sahara.”

  Mohammed stopped. His blood turned cold and he felt himself shudder.

  "What did you say?" he asked. He turned back to Rana.

  "What?" she asked. She had spoken her comment aloud but had not realized it.

  "You spoke of hair the color of the Sahara," Mohammed said.

  He knelt in front of her, grasping her shoulders in his large hands. Mohammed almost started to shake Rana. The first time he had laid eyes upon Katharine, he had thought her hair the color of the Sahara. The panic gripped him and frightened him.

 

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