The sun beat down from a pale blue sky, and the city seemed to shimmer in the heat. I wiped away a sheen of sweat on my brow and turned to go back inside. When I opened the door, a low buzz of excited, eager voices interrupted my thoughts. The other women of the harem had gathered in the main hall and stared toward the entrance. Most struck enticing poses, and small groups of women fondled each other's scantily clad bodies as they stared at the man who stood in the double doors.
I had seen photos of Prince Wajid Sha'ban Nazari, the young billionaire and heir to the kingdom. He had a strong, handsome face framed by thick black hair and a lustrous beard that he kept neatly trimmed. Despite his hedonistic lifestyle, his body was lean and muscular, and he glided into the room like a prowling lion, moving among the fawning women with supreme confidence. It wasn't arrogance that radiated from the Prince, but a sure knowledge that he controlled everything around him.
I felt my breath catch in my throat as his eyes met mine, and his gaze seemed to awaken a primal attraction deep inside me. I remembered feeling the same way near Fierro Salas in Colombia, but that was like a candle next to the sun. Salas had built himself a criminal empire. Prince Nazari was destined to become a king.
The room fell silent as Nazari raised a hand, and he spoke in a deep, rich baritone that reverberated through the large chamber. "Lovelies, do not think I had forgotten you. The Kingdom's business took me out of the country for a time. But I've returned, and I will see to all of you in turn."
Around me, the women of the harem smiled enthusiastically. Most of those smiles looked genuine. The criteria for entering this group were extraordinary; most of these women were intelligent and sophisticated. It made the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle to see them acting so... servile.
I kept my face carefully neutral and listened to the Prince.
"Some of you are newly arrived," he continued, and his eyes passed over me again. "I hope that you have been made comfortable. You will bathe with me now. Come!"
My mouth fell open at his abrupt command, but I saw the other women who had flown to Riyadh with me stand and follow the Prince without question. I fell in behind them, and the four of us accompanied the Prince down a short corridor and into a room where a large Jacuzzi tub swirled and churned beneath a huge dome painted to resemble the night sky. The pool's sides were tiled with an amazingly intricate mosaic pattern, but I hardly noticed. My attention was focused fully on the Prince as he spread his arms and looked at us expectantly.
The other girls hurried to him and began unbuttoning his silk shirt and pulling off his clothing. The Prince looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I hurried to join them without thinking.
Soon I found myself jostling for position among three eager women with lush bodies, all of whom were entirely focused on pleasing Prince Nazari. Suddenly, the depth of my commitment struck me. If I wanted to get close to this man, I needed him to take a special interest in me. Among this writhing crowd of nymphomaniacs, that wasn't likely to be easy.
As I elbowed a pretty blonde with huge breasts aside so I could yank down the Prince's trousers, I realized that acting as they did would only cement my position as another warm body for the Prince to use. I had to be different.
I stood abruptly and met his eyes. Before he could command otherwise, I turned and walked toward the steaming waters of the Jacuzzi, letting my silk robe fall away as I did so.
The other three women were all beautiful, but their bodies were soft and delicate. I'd worked hard to keep myself in top physical condition, and toned muscle accentuated my gentle curves. I stood at the edge of the Jacuzzi and forced myself not to look back. I could feel Nazari's eyes on my naked body, even while the other girls ran their hands adoringly along his own frame.
I waited, counting the seconds as I stared down into the white froth. After a moment, I felt strong, broad hands take my waist. Nazari's hands were smooth and soft, the uncallused hands of a man for whom others labored. He caressed my silky white skin, sliding down over the curve of my hip, letting his fingers feel the firm ridges of my thigh muscles.
I stood motionless, letting him explore my body. He stepped closer, and something hard and hot pressed against my bottom. I let out a little gasp and jumped in surprise, but Nazari slipped his hands around my waist again and pulled me close.
"Don't be frightened, little one," he whispered in my ear, that deep baritone soft and reassuring. "You are mine, and I will care for you as you do for me."
I let myself relax in his grasp, and as Nazari felt me soften, he slid his hands up my flat stomach to cup my breasts. I sighed as he took them in his hands as tenderly as if he held two trembling kittens. He squeezed gently and made a pleased sound as his fingertips rolled over my hardening nipples.
I rolled my head back and rested it against his shoulder as he massaged my bosom, kindling my desire until the tips of my breasts stood out firm and red, aching for more. "That feels wonderful, Your Majesty," I whispered.
Nazari responded to my pleasure by pressing his thick erection firmly against the cleft of my buttocks. "You don't yet know what wonderful feels like," he told me.
The other three women circled us, still vying for the Prince's attention. They crowded around us and caressed his perfectly sculpted body with eager hands, but the Prince didn't stop playing with my nipples. I watched them through half-closed eyes, and when they thought that Nazari wasn't looking, they glared daggers at me.
I was breathing fast with excitement, and my crotch felt as hot and wet as the Jacuzzi below. I knew that if I slipped into the water, it would feel cool against my thighs despite the steam rising from its surface. "Please," I begged him. "Show me."
The Prince released me and stepped back. I turned to him, my breasts swollen and pert with desire. The other women stood beside me, nameless beauties competing for the affection of the powerful man who owned us. Two of them moved toward Nazari, but he raised a hand and gestured for them to stop.
His liquid black eyes met mine, captivating in their depth. "You," he said. "What is your name?"
I bowed my head. "I was called Isabel, but my name is whatever you wish it to be, Your Majesty," I said in a soft voice.
Prince Nazari let out a loud, rolling laugh. "Isabel, I think Omar has given you too much of a fright! I am a wealthy man, not a god." He shook his head. "Still, your reverence is flattering, and you deserve some small reward. Tell me, Isabel, have you ever lain with a woman?"
My blush was genuine. "No, Your Majesty."
Nazari grinned and gestured to the other girls. "Pleasure her," he commanded. "Show her that you know her body. Prepare her for me."
Despite their earlier jealousy, the three women swirled around me in a flurry of silk and soft skin. Their hands caressed my body as they had the Prince's. Two blonde's cupped my breasts and bent to take them in their mouths. The third, a girl with auburn curls surrounding her cherubic face, knelt in front of me. She kissed my thighs lightly, then pressed her face between my legs.
Within seconds, two tongues circled my nipples, flickering over my sensitive flesh, flooding my body with an intense tingling sensation. The redhead burrowed into my crotch, and when her lips parted my labia, her tongue curled against my clit with an explosive jolt of pleasure that made me double over.
I would have fallen into the Jacuzzi, but the two blondes held me upright as they suckled me. The sensation was overwhelming, and something close to panic filled me as I stared at Prince Nazari.
He stood watching, naked and unabashed, casually stroking his enormous erection as he watched the women pleasure me. All thought fled me except awe. Awe of this man who had so casually commanded that a trio of beautiful women devote themselves to my sexual gratification. I realized I was gasping for breath, whining as uncontrollable pleasure rolled through my body from the three tongues touching my most intimate areas.
"Take her into the water," the Prince commanded, and the three women withdrew, then guided me gently down the steps and in
to the churning hot water. It enveloped my skin like warm silk, and I was suddenly aware of the ache between my legs, the deep desire kindled not by the women's attentions, but by the power that the Prince held over them. Over me.
The steam condensed as hot beads of moisture on the flushed skin of my neck, rolling down the slopes of my breasts to drip from their firm tips, and I watched hungrily as Nazari slowly lowered himself into the water. We stood facing each other submerged to the waist. The tip of his cock bobbed just above the surface like a breaching whale, and I stepped close and wrapped my fingers around it.
The Prince moaned with pleasure as I slid my hand back and forth beneath the water, stroking his iron scepter slowly at first, then faster, encouraging him as my own urgency grew. All around us, the three women moved, touching us both now, kissing my body and his. Yet somehow they seemed as ephemeral as the steam. I thought of nothing but Nazari. I wanted to please him. I must please him like no other woman could. Yet I could hardly remember why. The Mountain Wolf, the CIA, and even Cal Turner were only fleeting thoughts, abstract and distant.
Nazari took my chin in one strong hand and pulled my head up to look at him. "Pleasure me with your mouth, Isabel," he said.
I obeyed immediately. My hands slid down his chiseled abs as I dropped to my knees, grateful that I knew exactly what he wanted of me. I took a deep breath and ducked my head halfway under the water, then wrapped my lips around his manhood as the hot water swirled around us.
He filled my mouth, and I took him eagerly to the back of my throat, forcing myself to take him deeper than I thought possible. The other women caressed my back and stroked my wet, black hair as I held Nazari's thick cock in one hand and moved my head back and forth as though bobbing for the same, hard, swollen, delicious apple.
I looked up and saw Prince Nazari idly toying with the breasts of the women behind me, and that sight both enflamed the aching desire between my legs and firmed my resolve to make an impression.
I slid my tongue like a serpent around his shaft and sucked at him until he swelled in my mouth, and soon even the hedonistic Nazari could not ignore what I was doing. I felt dribs of salty-sweet pre-cum on my tongue, and I squeezed the base of his thick rod, milking him as I made my mouth a vessel for his pleasure.
The Prince cradled my head in his hands and pulled away, slipping his hot shaft out of my mouth. I gasped for breath as I gazed up at him, eagerly awaiting his next command, flanked by three women who obviously wanted to draw his attention away. I couldn't let them, but I had nothing to fear.
Nazari took my hands and pulled me to my feet, then grasped my buttocks and lifted me easily to sit on the lip of the pool. He put his hands on my knees and pushed my legs apart to expose my feverishly hot sex, then glided forward and bent his head to my crotch.
His fingers spread my folds, and his tongue slipped into my wet, musky hole without prelude. I gasped and writhed on the hard tiles, but two women slipped out of the water like minks and nestled their voluptuous bodies against mine. They held me down with firm, questing hands on my breasts and shoulders while Nazari ate my pussy.
His mouth worked at my sex, savoring the taste of my juices. Nazari's lips sealed against my flesh, and he sucked, drawing my clit into his mouth even as his tongue darted in and out of me. The pleasure was overwhelming, and I tried thrashed against the firm, feminine hands that held me down. Long, slender fingernails pinched my hard nipples until they throbbed with a low, sweet ache.
Nazari rose, his manhood gleaming in the soft light as the warm water sloughed off his perfect body in rivulets. He stood over me and slowly stroked my legs, admiring my curves with his eyes and his hands, only the hardness of his cock betraying his impatience.
My crotch was a void longing to be filled by that thick cock, and I spread my legs even more. "Please, Your Majesty," I begged.
Stepping forward, he took me by the hips and pulled my bottom out over the edge of the Jacuzzi as he plunged himself into me. My soaking pussy took him eagerly, almost hungrily, closing around him, pulling him into its tight, slick embrace.
Prince Nazari sighed with satisfaction as he began to move, rolling his hips in a steady, easy rhythm.
The three other women still obeyed the Prince's command to pleasure me. The two blondes knelt over me and each cupped one of my breasts to her mouth and gave suck. The redhead slipped in alongside them and ran her hand down my flat belly. She gave me a slow smile, then slipped her fingers down into the tuft of hair at my crotch, between the folds spread by Nazari's cock, and pressed them against my clit.
The combined sensation was unimaginable, but I knew the women were only an extension of Nazari's will. I looked up into the black eyes of my Arabian sex god as he fucked me with his hands, his cock, and his women. The mouths on my breasts, the fingers on my clit, the thick cock sliding inside me all combined in a surge of pleasure that swelled through my body, and my back arched as a powerful orgasm exploded through my abdomen.
My wordless cries echoed through the chamber, and I never wanted this to stop. I suddenly understood the fawning looks of the harem women when the Prince had finally arrived. No other man could do this to a woman. Breathless pleas rolled off my tongue; I swore myself to his service, promised anything if he would only keep going, faster, harder.
As his own desire overwhelmed his control, Prince Nazari's thrusts grew fast and forceful, and I felt the heat within me rise. Even as my first climax subsided, another swelled inside me like one wave rolling over its predecessor in the endless undulation of the surf.
Nazari's eyes rolled back in his head, and he slammed his hips against me with wild frenzy. The women around me sped up, their fingers and tongues a blur against my most sensitive areas. I came a second time, and my whole body seemed to bear down. I tightened around Nazari's thick cock until I could feel every detail of that smooth, hard shaft inside me.
His fingers tightened on my hips, and his cock swelled and pulsed as he gave one last deep thrust. I felt his throbbing manhood find release within me. The Prince shuddered as he came, filling me with his royal seed, hot and thick. Our ecstasy bound us together in an eternal moment of pure bliss. When at last it faded, the three women eased their attentions as Nazari softened and slipped away. I felt as though all want and need had been purged from my body, replaced with a halcyon satisfaction.
Prince Nazari sighed and smiled down at me. "You have done well, Isabel. But this was only a taste. Tomorrow night, you will come to my chambers alone, and I will show you what pleasure truly means." He patted me on the thighs with the affection a man might show his favorite mare, then stepped out of the water.
The women who had suckled my breasts rose and hurried to fetch towels so they could dry his body. Utterly spent, I lay on the hard tile, dangling my feet in the water. I looked forward to the Prince's promised tomorrow. I'd gotten his attention, just as I'd hoped. The Mountain Wolf was one step closer, but all I secretly yearned for Nazari's naked body. I wondered what I'd gotten myself into, and whether I had the willpower to get myself out.
Chapter Five
I slept uneasily, troubled by vivid dreams in which Prince Nazari and Omar Tarik took turns fucking me while Cal Turner watched, helpless and hurt. When I woke sweating, I went out onto the balcony in the grim pre-dawn, hoping the chill desert night would cool my skin. I took a long silk scarf, but not for warmth. As I stared out at the sleeping city, I slowly let one end of the scarf billow out over the balcony, a prearranged signal if anyone was watching.
Part of me wondered why I was signaling to the CIA support team who even now watched Nazari's palace from somewhere in the warren of streets. After the nirvana I'd experienced at Nazari's hands, any other way of living seemed a pale mockery of this lustrous life. Did I really want to go back to long hours of stressful, boring work punctuated by moments of sheer terror? Here in the palace, a seductive voice whispered in my head, it would be so easy to forget my crusade against the Mountain Wolf, even to forget Cal.
The wind gusted, nearly tearing the scarf from my hand. The loose end flew out into the night in a long streamer of shimmering fabric, and I reeled it back in hurriedly, hoping no one had seen.
In the city below, a flash of light caught my eye, a bright pinpoint of red that blinked three times quickly, then twice, spaced far apart. Cal's signal snapped me out of my doubtful reverie, and my training took over as I carefully traced a path through the warren of streets between the palace and the spot where I'd seen the blinking light.
When I'd memorized what I hoped would be my escape route, I went inside and climbed back to into bed, but I lay awake for a long time. Even with Cal so close, all I could think of was Nazari.
When dawn came, I left my bedchamber to find a splendid dress of umber silk waiting for me. Ornate embroidery covered its bodice and sleeves, and jewels crusted the low collar. A handwritten note with flowing script read: Wear it tonight. Omar will escort you to me.
Gooseflesh dappled my skin as the thought of Omar brought a mixture of dread and arousal. As scary as he had been, Omar's sheer dominance on the jet had turned me on in ways I could never admit to Cal, and my shame made me hope Nazari could keep his attack dog at bay. I sighed and shook my head. I had truly cast myself into a pit of vipers.
I spent the morning preparing for my evening with the Prince, first by mentally rehearsing the route I would take to escape the palace, then by putting on a special pair of earrings and a pendant. Most of the jewelry I'd brought to Saudi Arabia was unremarkable, but these had been designed by the CIA's best techs. Each piece contained specialized equipment cleverly hidden in gemstones and golden links. I wandered idly around the harem, doing my best to blend in while trying to casually eke every last bit of valuable information from the other women.
The concubines murmured when I came near, and I saw more than one set of eyes flash with jealousy. None attempted to get close to me; most simply pretended I wasn't there. So I sat quietly at nearby tables, a few minutes here, a few minutes there, listening to women gossip.
Submitting to the Enemy: In the Prince's Harem ( Page 3