The Sheik and the Slave

by Italia, Nicola

  Katharine's heart sank. It was all so unfair. Why did Mohammed make her feel this way? Why did she burn for the Arab's touch? Why didn't Jamie ever touch her or at least try? She should not be so wanton with Mohammed when Jamie had been so kind.

  Katharine suddenly stopped Jamie on their way to the large house.

  "Jamie, kiss me," she said.

  Jamie looked down into her luminous blue eyes. "What did you say?" he asked.

  "Please, kiss me, before we announce our betrothal," she said.

  "Of course, dearest," he said, smiling. He bent his head toward hers and lightly touched his lips to hers. His lips were cool and it ended after a brief meeting of their lips.

  Mohammed's dark eyes watched the two lovers kiss in the darkened garden. So the little falcon is at it again, he thought. Whether they are dark Arab men or pale English gentlemen in this cold world, they all flock to her honey, like dogs after a bitch's scent. He seethed.

  He remembered so well the night of the banquet, when she had spread her slim legs and moaned as he took her virginity. Did her English lover know that she wasn't a virgin? Did he know that she had lost her virginity on that Arabian evening when her hair had been scented with jasmine? What would he think when he told him she lost it to an Arab Muslim?

  Mohammed chuckled. Maybe he should find himself alone with the man and tell him all.

  He watched the lovers enter the large ballroom and followed them inside.

  "Daughter," Anne came to her daughter's side. She noticed her daughter's hair fallen down her back.

  "Your hair, " she mentioned.

  "Yes, Mother. It was too heavy. I took it down. I'm tired of fashion's dictates," Kat grumbled in an unattractive, unladylike way. She thought suddenly of the free-flowing Arabian clothes and life without corsets.

  "And corsets bind most unappealingly," Kat continued, sulking.

  Anne looked shocked.

  "My dear. What would a woman be without a slim waist?" she asked. She glanced to Jamie and Edward, but neither seemed interested in their conversation.

  Katharine was tired of the ball, the throng of people and the heat. She was terrified of being introduced to Mohammed in front of her father and having to make niceties to a man who had been her lover.

  "Let's announce the betrothal," Edward suggested to the threesome.

  "Oh yes," Anne smiled as she held another champagne flute in her hand.

  Katharine wondered if her mother was drinking too much and watched as Edward managed to attract the large crowd's attention.

  Edward thanked the people for coming near and far to join in the festivities and to welcome his beloved daughter home. He then took his daughter's hand and Jamie's hand joining them together.

  "Anne and I are proud to announce the betrothal of our beloved daughter Katharine to James Clifton."

  Applause broke out around her as Katharine fell into a black hole. Jamie caught her before she sank to the ground. As he carried her upstairs to her bedroom, Anne was fussing behind them.

  ***

  Fern and Daisy, the Bucket sisters, were 15 years older than Katharine and vicious town gossips. They stood behind a large pillar in the ballroom and watched as the blonde was picked up and carried away by her fiancé.

  "Did you see that, Fern? She fainted!" Daisy told her sister in a hushed tone.

  Fern, a large-nosed woman with frizzy red hair and watery brown eyes, sniffed decidedly.

  "Of course she fainted.” Fern said. “The little chit couldn't wait until the wedding night. She's obviously in the family way."

  ***

  Mohammed stood behind the town gossips unseen. She had spread her legs again and this time, the Englishman's seed had been potent, he thought. He would never take the leavings of a pale Englishman. He imagined her as she had been when he had taken her from behind in the bath. Pounding into her tight pussy had been beyond pleasure for him. His little princess had always said one thing when she had wanted the opposite.

  Katharine had always been too proud to admit that she needed and wanted him, but he had been the same.

  He had never been able to admit what effect she had on him. She had dazzled him, as she had the men before him and after him, but he still wanted her. He decided that he would place her in the harem. That is the only place for this wayward falcon, Mohammed thought arrogantly.

  ***

  Katharine awoke slowly with a pounding headache.

  "There, there," Anne said as she patted her hand. She then poured her a glass of water.

  "I don't remember," Kat began.

  "You fainted, dear. It must have been the heat of the ballroom," Anne explained. She took a cool cloth and placed it over her daughter's forehead.

  "Was the betrothal announced?" Katharine asked.

  "Yes, dear."

  "Are you pleased, Mother?"

  "Well, yes. I suppose I am.” Anne said, smiling. “And you, are you happy?" She wondered about her high-spirited daughter who seemed to want to please her family for once.

  "Yes. I am, Mother. Jamie is a good man."

  "Of course he is," Anne replied. She took the cloth away and stepped away from her daughter's bed.

  "Rest, darling. Most of the people have gone, so you needn't go back down. Tomorrow we'll talk about an idea I have. You might like to go abroad before the wedding."

  "Before the wedding?" she repeated.

  "Yes, to France, Paris. To visit your Aunt Louisa."

  Katharine jumped at the chance.

  "I would like that very much," she said. Here’s a chance to leave England and get away from Mohammed, she thought. He can’t follow me forever.

  "Rest now," Anne said, and she closed the door quietly and went downstairs. She still had to perform her duties as hostess and bid those leaving goodbye and good journey.

  Katharine settled back into the bed. She could still remember the brother-like peck that Jamie had bestowed upon her lips. It had all the warmth and passion of a walnut. But then, he had never lied to her; Jamie had been honest and forthright. He had told her that they would marry for friendship and family duties.

  She tried to imagine a life with him. Could she be a good wife to him? How could she lie with him and make love to him as she had with Mohammed? There were things she had let Mohammed do so easily. Could she take Jamie into her body? Why had Mohammed come back? Just when she was trying to forget him and move on, he had come to her. She wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t. She had fallen in love.

  She wanted to remove the heavy ruby silk dress. Once she undressed, she could put this evening behind her and move forward. Mohammed’s presence meant nothing. She would marry Jamie. It was the right thing to do. She planned to ring for her Irish maid.

  She moved to the edge of her bed and flicked up her skirts, revealing her legs up to the thighs. Silk stockings encased her legs and two garters kept each stocking from falling down. She sighed, leaning back. She wanted to undress and have this night be done. Everything had been moving smoothly forward until he had shown up. She had been willing to marry and forget him, but now that he was here she wanted him all the more.

  She flung herself backward onto the bed.

  “Damn him,” she said.

  “Damn who?” Mohammed asked.

  Katharine whipped up, her hair spilling all around her as she peered into the darkness of her room. He was leaning insolently against her armoire, hidden and silent until now.

  "You are mad to be here! Why are you here?" Katharine's dress billowed out she stood up to face him. He moved toward her.

  "My little princess, so perfect and unspoilt," he spoke lowly and then cursed in Arabic.

  Kat blanched at the word he called her. She knew it. He had called her a whore.

  "You have no right to call me that!" she spoke to him, her breasts heaving in anger. His dark eyes watched her creamy globes as they slipped over the bodice.

  "Perhaps no right. But don't pretend to be something you are not, Katharine,"
he said.

  "I don't understand," she said, shaking her head.

  Mohammed watched her throat and longed to bury his mouth in it.

  "Don't act the lady, when all you really are is a cheap whore," he continued. Katharine slapped him hard, and the sound echoed in the room.

  In a second, Mohammed pinned her arms behind her back, picked her up and threw her onto the bed. Before she could fight back, his weight settled on top of her as he pinned her down wrists above her head.

  "Little slut," he purred into her ear, holding her hands in one hand as his other delved underneath her silk skirts. Her silk-encased legs were mouth-watering, with small blue garters adorned with rosettes.

  "You know I've dreamt about you day and night," he said huskily in her ear. “You haunt me.”

  Katharine shook her head.

  "No. I don't want anything from you." Her heart raced as his weight settled on top of her. She could feel her body coming to life.

  "So it seems. While I scour the whole of Arabia looking for you after Yasmeen had you kidnapped, I find out you are spreading your legs for half of England," he looked down into her sea-colored eyes.

  "What?" she asked him, shocked.

  "Yes. Yasmeen has been returned to her family in disgrace. But I shouldn't have bothered. Perhaps I should bring you back to Arabia to satisfy myself and then my brothers when I tire of you."

  Katharine struggled underneath him.

  "I never meant to deceive Majeed. Please believe me. He and Rana were nothing but good to me."

  "No, you need do nothing, princess. Men just flock to your honey," he sneered.

  With that, Mohammed moved his hand between her thighs. Katharine was mortified. She could deny him with her words, but she knew her passage was already slick with her juices.

  "Spread your legs, princess," he said.

  "No," she argued. She tried to squeeze her thighs together, but his hand parted them. He released both her hands and she tried in vain to push at his shoulders.

  "How much honey do you give them?" he asked. His fingers moved into her and she opened her thighs to him.

  "That's it," he whispered into her ear.

  Katharine’s fingers clutched his shoulders as his fingers moved into her tight, wet passage. The tightness surrounded his finger as the warm core enveloped him.

  "Mohammed," she said. She wanted him so badly, but she couldn’t tell him.

  He spread her thighs and moved between them. She was all the more beautiful in her ruby red dress and diamonds, even though he preferred her scented with jasmine in a world of sand and heat.

  “Don’t deny me,” he said. He pulled her into a sitting position on the bed and impaled her deeply upon his thick cock.

  “Ah!” she cried out, even as he shushed her.

  Once she settled into the rhythm of the new position, he quickly had her mounted on top. She was confused at first.

  “Ride me,” he said. His words were delicious in the cool room.

  She began to bounce up and down on him as he opened the bodice, spilling out her breasts. His hands went to her waist and he could tell she was near climax. As she started to tumble into oblivion, he joined her, and his seed settled deep inside her.

  The room was quiet again, except for their heavy breathing. It eventually subsided.

  "You will come back to Arabia and join the harem," Mohammed told her. His ego would allow no more, though he wanted her at his side.

  Katharine pulled back and tugged at her bodice.

  "You are insulting. I am offered marriage here, yet I'm to go to Arabia and be your whore?"

  "What can your Englishman give you?” Mohammed sneered. “I can give you servants and a palace, even inside the harem. I can give you what you need,” he said arrogantly, buttoning himself up. “After all, I am willing to take the leavings of an Englishman.”

  "Leavings? How dare you. I've done nothing to be ashamed of."

  "There was talk of you in the ballroom. You fainted. They think you are pregnant. Used goods. They think you couldn't wait until the wedding night."

  "I couldn't. Why should I?" she asked. She raised her head haughtily. Let him think that she was used. Let him think what he would.

  She alone knew that the only man who had even known her sexually was before her. She lay before him on the bed, legs spread and dress bunched up around her slim thighs.

  Mohammed's hand slid up her thigh. "So what would one more mean to you? You are so experienced. So used to a man."

  Katharine shivered as he moved the silk dress further up her thighs. He spoke to her in Arabic. The words were half coarse, half loving as he spoke of his need for her.

  "No one but you will do," he said, as his mouth roughly took hers.

  He pulled back suddenly to look at her.

  "I have traveled from Arabia to bring you back. You belong at my side, princess."

  "No," Katharine said, shaking her head. "There can never be anything between us."

  Mohammed smirked as he surveyed the scene before him, knowing his seed was even now inside her. "So, little falcon. You think I will leave here and let you marry that Englishman? I told you before, I'm not leaving England without you."

  "You must see the truth. Please. We have no future," she begged him.

  Katharine knew that as much as she dreamed and yearned for him, they were too different. She knew in her heart that as much as she wanted him, she would never have him. His arrogance would only allow her to remain in the harem, never at his side as his wife.

  Tears gathered in her eyes.

  "Please, Mohammed. If you care for me at all, you'll let me go," she said.

  Mohammed looked down at her and then stood up, smoothing her dress down as he did.

  He said only one word in Arabic before he left her room. Katharine shivered at the word he had said.

  It meant “impossible.”

  ***

  Katharine had agreed to journey to France in a month, and her mother wrote the necessary letters.

  She knew that if she could stay hidden from Mohammed, she could break the spell he held over her. Once she was legally married, she need never worry about Mohammed again. She would marry Jamie, bear his children and have a life in the country.

  If only she could stop dreaming about a little boy with honey-colored skin, dark, curly hair, and sea blue eyes.

  Chapter 12

  The stagecoach rocked back and forth and Katharine settled uneasily into the cushions. She was excited about the trip to France but loathed the thought of another sea voyage. She sank into a fitful sleep and was troubled by her dreams.

  She could hear the hounds barking in the distance as the hunt was about to begin. She watched the men mount their horses one at a time and saw Jamie settle atop a grey dappled horse and gallop into the distance.

  She wondered where the fox was and felt sorry for it. The violence was something she usually couldn't stomach and she hated the men chasing after the poor innocent creature.

  Suddenly she turned as she heard a woman's gasp of outrage and cry of indignation.

  A lovely red-haired woman was being disrobed in a brutal fashion next to her. The woman's long skirts were slashed away from her body with a long sword and her corset followed.

  The woman shrieked and cried as two men stripped her naked in front of the remaining men and women.

  Just then, a mounted blonde male swooped down and captured the redhead. The man had already unbuttoned himself and was ready for the woman as his cock surged forward, hard and strong.

  Katharine could make out the woman being held in front of the man as he rode toward the sunlight, impaling her upon his cock.

  Kat gasped. Where was she? What was going on? It was indecent. Disgusting.

  She heard a loud male voice urging the men on.

  "Take the foxes! Take them, men," a voice cried out. "Take them and be quick about it!"

  She watched two more women be disrobed and impaled upon large cocks a
s the couples rode off into the distance. The women were squirming and crying as the men laughed in domination.

  "Stop it! I forbid you to touch me!!" Katharine cried in an almost hysteric voice as two unknown men approached her.

  The two men were unknown to her and unshaven. They looked like peasants, dirty and unclean, and she glanced around for help. Other women were around but they were also being attacked. The men were all mounted or galloping around waiting for their prey to be disrobed.

  She began to back away from the men, even as they advanced upon her.

  "Don't got nowheres to go, duchess," said one man in a thick accent as he wiped his hand across his mouth.

  The other man eyed her luscious breasts and pulled a knife from his boot.

  "Come on, lovey," said the man with the knife. "They all want it. Same as you. What's a woman for but to tumble on 'er back and 'ave at it."

  "Do you know who I am?" Katharine cried as one man reached out for her. She tried to fight, but it was in vain. The men were too strong for her and she couldn't evade them.

  One man held her in his meaty grip as the other began slashing at her skirts. Her skirts fell at her feet in a limp pile and the men admired her long legs.

  "Lovely little fox you are," said the one man.

  "I forbid you to do this!" she yelled.

  The men ignored her and began caressing her as they cut off her corset ties and wrenched it from her body. Katharine tried to cover herself, but their rough hands squeezed her breasts. One man kneaded her breasts with his fingers and teased her tender nipples with his callused fingers.

  "You are a lovely bird," he grinned, as he began to fondle his hard cock with his other hand.

  She spat in his face and backed away from them while running. Their laughter echoed in her ears.

  "Aint got nowheres to go, duchess," one of them called after her.

  Her heart thudded in her breast at the shame of their touch.

  She was naked and standing beside a small wheat field when she heard the horses' hooves beating upon the earth.

  "No," she breathed out.

  She didn't look back to see the rider because it didn't matter. She would never give in. Suddenly she was scooped up from behind and settled before him in the saddle.