Zara wanted to claw the smile from his face and fought desperately to hold both her temper and her tongue. Jamal was the most egotistical, arrogant man she’d ever met. She had promised to go to him willingly but she’d never said she’d enjoy it.
Servants moved about silently, serving a dish called harina, a hearty soup with tomatoes and peppers. There were also olives and flatbread, and at the end of the meal, honey cakes and fruit, with mint tea to wash it down. Jamal ate sparingly, taking small sips of tea as he watched Zara pick at her food. At length he motioned for the meal to be taken away. The servants cleared away the remnants of the meal and disappeared.
By that time Zara began to feel lightheaded and tingly all over. The odd sensation reached deep into her innards, causing a sensation that made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the way her body was behaving.
Jamal noted her distress and gave her a sharp look. “Did Nafisa prepare almond milk for you before you arrived?” he asked conversationally.
Zara looked at him curiously. “Aye.”
Jamal spit out an oath. “I wish she hadn’t.”
“Does it matter?”
Jamal shrugged. “Not really.” But his eyes told her otherwise. His gaze, sharp and intense, searched her face, watching, waiting, for something … something …
Zara squirmed on the cushion beside him, assailed by a peculiar sensation that traveled through her veins like wildfire, creating a wanting inside her that frightened her. What was happening to her? Her hands clenched and unclenched nervously in her lap as she tried to sort out the weird things going on inside her body.
She gave a small cry of surprise when Jamal scooped her into his arms and set her on her feet. “I want to taste you,” he said, pulling her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers, savoring her taste, exploring the softness of her ripe lips. “You taste like honey,” he whispered against her mouth.
His tongue flicked out to lick hungrily at her lips, then slipped between her teeth to sip more fully of her sweetness. Zara groaned. She was hot, so hot. Burning. Her blood was on fire. Her nipples ached, and she ground her hips against Jamal’s erection to obtain relief from the scalding heat of her arousal, but there was no relief, only more fire.
Jamal thrust his leg between hers, aware of her distress and the cause of it. Allah take Nafisa. He didn’t want Zara like this. He hadn’t ordered the aphrodisiac that Zara was given in the almond milk. He needed no help in arousing his princess.
Zara moaned again, riding his leg and pressing her breasts against his chest. Her nipples were so sensitive they ached. Something was happening to her! She wanted Jamal’s hands on her; she wanted him inside her.
“Ride me, sweet princess,” Jamal whispered hoarsely. “Take the edge off your hunger. Later I will arouse you again, when the effects of the drug have warn off.”
“You gave me a drug?” Zara gasped, nearly beyond coherent thought. If she didn’t get relief soon she’d explode.
“Shhh, don’t talk. You’re nearly there.”
Suddenly she screamed, her climax so intense she blacked out for a moment. When she came to herself she was lying on the bed, and Jamal was holding a wet cloth to her head.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Zara. Nafisa acted on her own. The drug will wear off in a short time, and then I will prove that I need no help from aphrodisiacs to bring you to ecstasy.”
Zara groaned. Allah help her.
Chapter Eight
Captivated by the blond temptress dozing in his bed, Jamal watched the steady rise and fall of Zara’s breasts. The lust rampant within him was incredible. Piercing and powerful, it rose like a ravening beast inside him.
Still, he preferred to make love to Zara while she was in full control of her emotions. It wasn’t enough that her body craved him. That could be blamed on the drug she’d been given. Nay, he wanted her to need him with her heart and mind, and not because she’d ingested an aphrodisiac.
Zara had fallen asleep a short time before, and Jamal decided to let her sleep off the effects of the drug. The night was young. When she awakened she’d be in full control of her emotions; that was when the real seduction would begin.
When Zara stirred and made a small sound, Jamal could not resist drawing her onto her back and viewing the soft, sleeping form of his slave. Tangled hair the color of ripe wheat. Pale skin as flawless as alabaster. She was sweetly curved with narrow waist and magnificent breasts. A powerful drive stronger than his own life force made him raise her veil, baring her body to his greedy gaze. Her beauty was mesmerizing. He groaned as his hands sought her breasts.
He cupped them gently, weighing them within his large palms and then bringing each to his mouth to suckle gently upon the dusky ripe peaks. Zara stirred beneath his tender touch and he smiled.
Zara awakened to erotic sensations that were incredibly arousing. She arched up, her body soaring with sweet pleasure that was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The feeling was succulent and delicious and she almost purred in contentment.
A hand moved down her body in a heated caress and Zara’s eyes popped open. She was momentarily distracted by the wet tug on her nipple of a very talented mouth. Though the room was lit by a single lamp, she recognized Jamal’s dark head bent over her, laving her breasts with the moist heat of his mouth.
Suddenly Jamal’s head rose and he smiled at her. “You’re awake. Good. How do you feel?”
She tried to rise but his hard body pinned her against the bed. “I feel somewhat… strange. What happened? The last thing I remember was—” The truth finally dawned on her and she stared in horror at Jamal. He was smiling; a predatory smile that made her want to hit him. “Allah help me! You drugged me.”
“Nay, not I,” Jamal denied. “Blame Nafisa if you must, but do not judge her harshly. She meant you no harm. It was a light dose and has already worn off. When you respond to me next, it will be a true response and not drug-induced. You will receive pleasure, sweet vixen, never doubt it.”
Zara did not doubt Jamal’s ability to arouse her. She stared at his mouth, at his strong white teeth, soft, mobile lips and clever tongue and knew she was lost.
“Raise your shoulders,” Jamal said. “The veil is becoming but I prefer you naked.”
His deep voice wrapped itself warmly about her and she obeyed without question. She watched in rapt fascination as the gauzy cloth was lifted from her body and floated across the room, settling in a brilliant puddle on the carpeted floor. The arousing scent of incense filled the air, creating an atmosphere ripe with promise. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed reflexively.
“Are you thirsty?” Jamal asked as he offered her a goblet that had been resting on a tray with sweetmeats and other tempting morsels.
Zara glanced warily at the goblet, then at Jamal.
“’Tis just fruit juice, I swear it.” To prove his words, he took a healthy sip before handing the goblet to her.
Zara accepted, drinking thirstily before handing it back to him. Jamal set the goblet on the tray and leaned down to lick the remaining drops from her lips. Her lips must have proven too heady to resist, for his mouth opened and slanted across hers. He kissed her passionately, forcefully, a hot, heady taste of sin and seduction.
The need to resist this arrogant sheik was strong within her but she forced it down, aware that resistance would not bode well for her father. Jamal wanted a submissive vessel for his lust, and she’d promised to indulge him. Her father’s freedom meant more to her than her innocence. If appeasing Jamal’s lust would gain his trust, then she’d hand him her virginity on a silver platter. The sooner she gained his trust, the sooner she could free her father.
Jamal’s hands slid down her body, finding sensitive places that made her tingle and burn. His mouth followed in the wake of his hands, searing a path to her breasts, where he feasted hungrily upon her nipples. She felt her nipples harden under his touch, felt incredible pleasure as he stroked them, and she f
elt that pleasure settle between her legs. All pretense fled as Zara let out a low, agonized groan. What she felt was very real.
Difficult as it was, Jamal forced himself to practice constraint. He wanted to bring Zara to the brink of madness before releasing her. And then he wanted to do it again and again. His breath quickened as her nipples hardened beneath his fingertips. Then he took one swollen bud between his teeth and caressed it with his tongue. When his lips left her breasts and traveled down to her navel, he heard her swift intake of breath.
“Jamal… Blessed Allah, have mercy.”
“Allah can’t help you, sweet vixen. Only I am capable of giving you the release you crave.”
The heel of his palm rested lightly on the smooth pink mound at the apex of her legs, massaging in erotic circles. With his other hand he pressed upon a place down low on her stomach, and the unexpected burst of pleasure caused her to cry out.
“What did you do?” she asked, gasping.
“I know many ways to give you pleasure.” His hand moved between her thighs, apparently pleased by what he found there for he smiled and took her hand, bringing it between her legs. “Your love juices are flowing for me, my sweet. Can you feel them?”
She pulled her hand free. It came away wet, and her face flooded with color. Then he introduced a new torment when he gently probed her with his fingers. Zara stiffened and jerked upward, forcing his fingers deeper. A flash of panic seized her. If she was going to tell him she was a virgin, now was the time.
“Jamal, there is something—”
Her words ended in a squawk of surprise as Jamal lowered his head and kissed her there, his face burrowing between her legs as he feasted on her succulent flesh.
He raised his head and gave her a long, poignant look. “I’m going to bring you to pleasure with my mouth first. You are so sensitive there.” His fingers played upon slick moist flesh as he parted her and returned to his banquet. His tongue was like living flame as it delved inside her, teasing, taunting, sending tiny bursts of fire through her body.
She felt herself thickening and swelling, and then it began. The heady rise of blood, the explosion of passion. He sensed her rush toward ecstasy and thrust his finger inside her. The results were immediate and rewarding as Zara screamed.
Zara heard her own moaning, keening sounds as breaking waves of indescribable rapture washed over her. Her body was still vibrating with it when Jamal stripped off his pantaloons and knelt between her legs.
“It’s just beginning, sweet vixen,” he whispered in a voice that sounded as tightly drawn as a bow.
She looked down at his body, her eyes glazed with fright when she saw his fully aroused erection. He was huge. She’d seen him aroused before but not like this. Then he was pressing himself inside her, stretching her, pushing deeper, harder, hurting her.
“Stop!” She struggled beneath him, trying to escape the pain.
At first Jamal didn’t want to believe Zara was a virgin, but the truth hit him forcefully when his manhood butted against the unquestionable proof of her innocence. He went still, searching her face, seeing her anguish for himself and finally believing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked harshly.
“Would you have believed me?”
He was shaking all over, his body demanding release. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now. I’ve waited too long for this moment. ’Tis your duty as a slave to please your master,” he added harshly.
Zara clenched her teeth against the pain. “Allah take you!” Her anger was incandescent, fueled by Jamal’s arrogance in thinking she’d submit willingly to slavery. “Your slave is willing to grant your every wish, master.”
Her scathing sarcasm was not lost on Jamal. It fired his own anger until they were both caught in the heat of it. Resentment, raw emotions and unbridled passion brought a new dimension to their joining. Jamal’s face darkened. Unspeakable lust for the Berber princess was sharp and unrelenting.
“Give me your mouth, slave,” he ordered harshly. “The taking of a virgin must be done with finesse. I will try not to hurt you, but your sharp tongue has sorely tried my patience.”
Zara stared at him a moment, then lifted her mouth. Though she knew she had pricked his anger, she didn’t regret lashing him with the sharp edge of her tongue. She didn’t want to accept pleasure from him. She wanted to keep her rage and resentment alive. She feared the consequences should he make her crave his body, his touch, the passion he wrung from her.
Jamal’s mouth came down hard on hers, his anger slowly eroding into something he could control… passion. At least he’d been able to control his passion in the past, until he’d acquired a certain Berber slave. Then all thought fled as he flexed his hips and thrust through Zara’s maidenhead.
Zara screamed into his mouth, her body going rigid as he pushed his entire length inside her. He was killing her.
“Relax,” he whispered against her mouth. “Every woman since the beginning of time has borne the pain. I promised you pleasure and so you shall have it.”
He was tearing her apart. Zara’s breath caught in her throat; she was afraid to breathe lest she shatter. But Jamal seemed to know what he was doing, caressing her until the pain receded and she was ready to respond.
“Now the pleasure begins,” he said when he felt her soften and her resistance ebb. “You’re tight, Zara, so very tight, but that makes the pleasure all the sweeter. Move with me, open to me, come with me.”
The delicious pressure of his sex inside her released a primitive instinct as she rotated her hips against his powerful body. Jamal responded to her tentative movements, thrusting and withdrawing, manipulating her body in delightful ways that took away all conscious thought.
He lowered his head and kissed her mouth again, tenderly, deeply, murmuring erotic words of encouragement. He moved within her and she welcomed his thrusting heat by wrapping her arms around the breadth of his back and pressing against him restively. Instinctively he pulled her more tightly against him and delved deeper into the honeyed sweetness of her, again and again, moving in and out with increasing vigor.
Waves of heat rippled across her skin and gathered in great pools of fire deep within her. She grasped his shoulders and clung to him as his thick manhood pressed deeper and his powerful muscles bunched and shifted beneath her fingertips. His buttocks flexed, surged, thrusting her higher and higher, into a world of white-hot splendor. Huge, consuming swells of pure sensation crested and grew, sweeping her upward into mindless bliss. She cried out his name as she shattered.
Jamal felt her ecstasy swell and burst within her, heard her cry out his name, and rejoiced in the knowledge that he had given her pleasure. Then his own culmination was upon him and he stiffened, spewing his seed into her. He shouted his pleasure, thrusting deeply until there was nothing left for him to give. For a moment he lost all sense of time and place as he spiraled downward from euphoria into the arms of perfect contentment.
It was true, Jamal thought as he drifted in a mist of serenity: no woman had ever made him feel the way he felt now. He was a hedonist who craved sensual pleasure and delighted in finding new and diverse ways to obtain it. Beautiful women, erotic play and sexual excitement were as necessary to him as eating and breathing, and he usually indulged his appetite to the fullest. He was considered a master at love play and had spent a considerable part of his adult life refining his skills.
His concubines and lovers had not been innocents and thus were able to please him in diverse ways. Yet Jamal thought it more than passing strange that a complete innocent had fulfilled him as he’d never been fulfilled before. He glanced down at Zara and realized she was watching him, her expression puzzled and a tiny bit frightened.
“Did you enjoy that?” Jamal asked. An arrogant half-smile curved his lips. He knew well and good that she had.
“What did you do to me? I’ve never lost control like that.” Zara compared the feeling to that of being possessed. The sensation, while ple
asurable in the extreme, was like losing her soul, and she wasn’t ready to give that to any man.
“I wasn’t expecting a virgin, Zara. You still have a lot to learn, but I will take great pleasure in teaching you the joys of erotic love play.”
“May I go back to my room now?” Zara didn’t think she could handle any more pleasure tonight.
Jamal chuckled and stroked her breast. “The night is young, sweet vixen. Together we will explore some of the fascinating positions available to lovers.”
“You’ve exhausted me,” Zara complained. She feared she’d not survive another passionate encounter with Jamal. The man was insatiable.
“We’ll rest a moment,” Jamal said. He turned and reached for a pitcher of warm water that had been placed within reach on a nightstand beside a stack of fine white linen cloth. He poured water into the bowl and wet one of the cloths. “Part your legs for me, Zara, so I can cleanse my seed from you with scented water.”
Zara’s legs shifted apart and he touched the cloth to her. The scent of jasmine floated up to her as he carefully removed all traces of blood and sperm. When she was clean and sweet-smelling, he wet another cloth and washed himself. When he turned back to her, he had a small vial in his hands.
Zara saw it and stiffened, wondering what he intended next.
“Relax, Zara, I won’t hurt you. When I enter you again it will not hurt. This is merely fragrant oil,” he said, showing her the vial. “I will massage it into your skin and it will relax you. Turn on your stomach.”
She obeyed without comment, knowing that it would do her no good to protest. Then she felt the soothing heat of his hands as he spread the oil over her skin, lavishing it on her back, her shoulders, her buttocks, the backs of her legs. It felt so wonderful she almost fell asleep beneath his sensual massage. By the time he’d finished, having turned her over to spread oil on her breasts, belly and more intimate parts, Zara’s blood was pounding through her veins and her love juices were flowing.
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