Rolling, looking for relief, Bianca still looks more beautiful, like a woman in heat. I secure firmly her hips and she enjoys, expelling a soft and addictive cream in my mouth, her legs tremble, glued to my hands, while she enjoys strong, lost, delivered to pleasure.
I rise and take her mouth, her taste on my tongue, mingling in our saliva. When she comes back to herself, still hungry, she slides a finger into her body and she widens her eyes, nibbling at her pink, fleshy lips.
My God, I need to bury myself so deep in Bianca's body that I will let myself get carried away by the indescribable sensation of her little cunt squeezing my slippery, soggy finger.
She turns around with her hips against my hand and I hold her more perversely as she rides, hallucinated, on my fingers.
-Oh, my God, more, more Nahan.
When I'm about to replace my fingers with my dick, Bianca walks out of the shower, picking up something in the sink drawer, demanding that I put on a damn condom.
-No, Halawi.
-Put it on Nahan or nothing.
Ah! I wanted so much to feel it like yesterday, skin to skin, I need to have it, anyway, any way I want my body in yours. She wraps her fingers around my dick and manipulates it up and down, rubbing the head of my wet dick with her thumb.
I hold my jaw to bear the sensations, until Bianca slowly and awkwardly puts the condom on; I am so excited that I am afraid to enjoy.
I guided the member to the warm, tight entrance of her crevice and slowly but steadily penetrated it until I felt her receiving me whole, inch by inch, open and hungry.
-Ah! So, hot.
- Nahan, please.
-Put your legs around my waist and hold tight, my princess.
She clings to my neck and I squeeze into her body, tapping my dick deep in her pussy.
- God! Nahan, like this ...
Our bodies slide into each other, her nipples brushing against my chest, our skins washed with water and sweat. The two of us moaning, murmuring disjointed words of pleasure that is almost pain, almost suffering, breaking us in control, imperious and sovereign.
-No ... and your suitors?
-Don’t you see it Bianca, there's only you, it's just you, halawi, nobody else.
I thrust and thrust my hips into hers, a little deeper, hammering hard, my testicles contracting with each thrust.
Bianca buries her nails in my back, throws her head back and enjoys screaming my name in sweet abandon, squeezing me inside her body, engulfing my cock.
As I penetrate her with hunger, possessed by a visceral desire. The orgasm is so strong that I feel all the sperm being drained from my body.
- Mine. Halawi. Just mine.
- Yours, ah! Nahan.
- Yours. All yours halawi.
We stood there and loved each other for hours, before she slept she provoked me:
-Did you not like the candidates today?
I smile, with my nose buried in her hair, strawberry ... Her hair smells like strawberries.
-You're laughing, Nahan, you're not afraid I'll kick you out of the bed.
-You look even more beautiful, when you're jealous.
She tries to get up and I pull her by the waist, laughing loudly.
-Who says I am jealous, you cocky! What if it was the other way around, two men wanting me?
I frown, at the scene that is forming in my mind, two men trying to get her away from me? I think, think, and then conclude, that there would not be ... No one would be that suicidal.
-That's not funny, Bianca, I'd kill them, I'd kill anyone who’d try to take you away from me.
She looks at me seriously and asks quietly, her face frightened.
-You say that as a way of saying it, don’t you? You would not do that, would you?
-They've taken a lot out of my life, Bianca. No one will take you, from me.
-And I, Nahan, what should I think? With all those queen candidates, these dinners?
Still stroking her hair, feeling her relaxing in my arms, I speak the truth, only the truth.
-There's nothing to think about, there are no candidates. I do not want any of them, as much as I have to get involved in the politics games, it's my life, I decide what and who I want, and it's just you, halawi, only you I want Bianca.
We talked about our favourite tastes, our childhood moments, dreams that have not yet been realized and before we fell asleep, I confirmed what my heart already knew: Bianca is an intelligent, sensitive woman, completely charming and I would be an idiot if I didn’t want this woman for myself.
Early in the morning, after Bianca once again forced me to use condoms when we were having sex, I take advantage of the fact that she is still sleeping so warmly and quietly in her underwear, I grab my old pajama pants and a T-shirt and I go, barefoot down the stairs, towards the kitchen, to give out to the guilty one, the squeeze that got between me and Bianca.
I enter the kitchen and the moment would not be more appropriate, I find Thura alone finishing preparing a pot of coffee.
-Good morning, Thura.
- Good morning Nahan, have a seat, I'll pour you some coffee.
I stand, circling the kitchen, irritated.
Why had Thura got involved into our relationship, intervened in the way Bianca and I make love? Outrageous?
We are clean, healthy. We do not have to worry about such nonsense, ridiculous? Why use condoms?! A ridiculous piece of latex between us ... But what the hell!
With each step I take, toward the sink, I become more irritated, not sure why, but the only thing I'm sure of, is that I'm furious with Thura's meddling.
She turns to me, holding a wooden spoon and immediately pours into my face.
-Speak soon, before I have a heart attack. So that you'll soon get annoyed, I'll let you know, a doctor will come this afternoon to examine Bianca.
Why on earth does she want to get on my nerves? A doctor examining Bianca? How far will Thurayya's nosiness go?
I start to raise my voice, this is not getting good, allah, not good ... I count in my head, to calm myself down and still, I'm almost screaming.
-A doctor, why a doctor, is Bianca sick? You've gone too far Thurayya.
Thura dropped the dishcloth and glared at me.
-You know very well why she needs a gynecologist, what do you mean by that? No Nahan, whoever went too far was you.
Does she have the audacity to say that I've gone too far? Why Thura has to be like this, always getting in my way, I blast and talk even louder than I like, punching the table.
-Thurayya do not intrude where you don’t need to, now Bianca is making silly demands on me and that's not right. Everything is very simple, she is mine, Thura, there is no reason for her to worry about anything else. You want me to repeat, so you can understand: BIANCA. IT IS. MINE. So we do not need any doctors saying how I can or can’t take her. I should not even be arguing these things with you, that's absurd.
-That's right, you can see how absurd is, what you're doing, she's a girl, Nahan.
A girl? What conversation is this now? Does she talk like I'm bothering Bianca somehow, where's Thura's head?
-Bianca is not a girl, she's a woman, Thura, my woman.
Thura breathes deeply and answers back, always confronting me, always getting me out of earnest, she will one day drive me crazy.
- Yours? Like yours? Did you forget how this girl came here, in this palace? You've kidnapped her, you're not her husband. She. Is Not Yours, Nahan. How dare you want to get her pregnant? Make her your wife, your queen, without even giving her the chance to choose? She has the right to choose if she wants to be your wife, if she wants to have a child of her own. I've known you since you opened your eyes to this world. That's what you wanted from the day Bianca walked in that door. But be honest, be an honourable man, be worthy, do not embarrass me. That is not right.
How dare she accuse me of these absurdities? I just wanted to have Bianca for me, without intrusions, without anyone getting into our lives.
Thura looks at me as if she can cross me over, pierce me inside. She can see me, only she and no one else can never see who I really am.
Suddenly I feel dirty, unworthy, I do not want to hurt Bianca, I just want ... I need her.
Bianca opened the curtains of my soul and let the light in, I just want to forget the cold, the smell of death that hangs in this house. It carries within herself so much life, so much light, so much colour. And I’ve always dreamed like an idiot to escape the dark, the pitch I live in.
-She's mine Thura, no matter how, whether I kidnapped her or she came to me with her own legs. Bianca came into my life and I will not let anyone get her from me, not even you.
-I do not want to take her away from you, no one else but me, wants you to be happy. But not that way, not disrespecting Bianca's right to choose. As much as you want to have her as your wife, as the mother of your kids, you must give her the chance to choose whether she wants to or not. And what if she gets pregnant Nahan, would you still marry another? If this foreign girl carries a child of yours in her womb, what are you going to do? Go against the wishes of your people and make her your queen? Are you going to let her go back to her land? Are you going to make her your lover? Do you already have answers to these questions, Nahan?
Fatimah tries to enter the kitchen and the look I give her is so hideous, so frightening, that the poor woman runs out of the kitchen as if she had seen the devil himself in front of her.
-Do not provoke me, Thura, damn it, a thousand times damn it. I just know what I feel, I do not need names, contracts, to tell me how I should act with her. I don’t know what to answer to you, but I assure you that if Bianca carried a child of mine in her womb, nor my people, nor a thousand armies from Qatar, would be able to tear her from me. They would only take my halawi from me if I was dead, Thura. Are you satisfied now? Was that what you wanted to hear? I hate it when you make me say what I don’t want to say. You have no right to pressure me, Thura.
-Then, when you have these answers, when the time comes to face these battles, to make her your queen, I will be the first person to thank allah for the coming of this child. Meanwhile, let Bianca decide whether she wants to be a mother or not.
Thura turns and cries with her back at me, standing by the sink. And I also cry, quiet, silent, just as she fought with me when I was just a boy wandering through this huge palace.
She is the only mother figure I have ever had in my life, my mother only gave birth to an heir for my father, King Abdullah Asi Tarif.
Thura is the one who always loved me like son and gave me so much love, that even though I'm still angry with her, I do not want to hurt her, to harm her.
The three cooks look at us from the kitchen door and Thura is ashamed that they have caught us screaming at each other. Without me waiting for one more of her reactions, she surprises me when she approaches and speaks in a low voice:
-I didn’t want to make you suffer, my boy. The cooks have overheard our discussion, you are the king of this country, not even your aunt, your breast mother may disrespect you, my lord. If you lose the respect of your people, how can you lead them? Tomorrow I leave the basement, but now it is necessary for me to go and retire, don’t forget the consultation with the doctor this afternoon.
Going to the kitchen door and leaving me jaw opened and chest tight, she gives Fatimah the order of the day, with the other two cooks next to them, Jasmine and Nair.-Fatimah, unfortunately I have to go away. Nahan is our king, not even I can’t forget it, take care of everything until I come back tomorrow, I'll retire now.
I walked beside her, still in shock, devastated. I tried to persuade her all the way to the basement, that her being trapped in that uncomfortable place, would not make me a more respected king, but Thura insisted that even she had to follow the rules, and provoked me:
-It's good that I can take a vacation from that kitchen.
I look around me and the disgust I feel for myself increases even more, when I see Thura stretching her old legs in this tight bed. Before closing the room, I bump into Jafar, who is apparently already aware of our discussion.
-What's Mommy doing here? What happened this time?
-This crazy old woman has put the hell on me and now she's thinking of getting into the basement, convince her now to get out of here, Jafar. If Thura doesn’t leave that room in five minutes, I'll make you keep her company with the rats in the dungeon.
Jafar curses, as if I'm not listening.
-Allah merciful, not a thousand virgins in paradise pay the Calvary of living with these two. See what I have to endure, they both fight, and I have to solve it, now it's my fault.
Jafar enters that ridiculous cubicle and after almost ten minutes of talk, negotiations of all kinds, shoes thrown on the wall, he leaves ... Hands shaking, no Thura.
Ah! Jafar, damn you, if Jafar was not my cousin, I'd throw him between rats.
I take a deep breath and get some courage, she's just an old woman, what can she do to me?
I smile, imagining that when it comes to Thura, the options are endless and if the situation wasn’t so idiotic, it would even be fun to run through the palace avoiding her beatings.
You know what? All this, is already becoming ridiculous, enough with this joke. It doesn’t matter to me whether I have left Thura's womb or not. She is the mother, the aunt, the friend that I always had. Never, as long as I live, Thura will be disrespected.
She is the absolute and sovereign lady of this house, the glue that holds everyone and everything in its place, as it should be. Her place is commanding my house, keeping the roof of this palace standing, not here, bound, like anyone, not at all.
I open the door again and she stares at me with her shoe in her hand, falsely irritated.
-Is it possible for an old woman to be left in peace, can you get out of here?
-Get up from there, Thura, and go back to the kitchen, what you're deserving, it's a whip, but stop being pushy. I am your king and I am ordering you to leave immediately. You have not made my coffee yet. If you want to rest later in the north wing of the palace, you have a comfortable suite there for you to reflect on your mistake, besides, Bianca must have already woken up and I'm starving.
CHAPTER 8
QATAR-Capital Doha- THE NORTHWEST OF BAHRAIN
SHEIKH HAFIQ ZAFIR BIN AL HASSAN
I roll my Arabic rosary in my hands copiously and I can’t find a little peace.
Youssef has already put his head into the office twice and the third time, I'm screaming like the madman that Antony insists on cursing me.
-Come on in, Youssef, but careful with what you're going to tell me, if you do not have any news about Bianca, Antonia will want to throw me in the boiling oil.
Youssef arranges his suit, enters the office greeting me and sits next to me, with the sullen air.
- Salaam Aleikum, Hafiq. (Peace be with you)
- Aleikum As-Salaam, Youssef (peace be upon you, too)
He rubs his chin in a tense gesture and hands me some documents, I read carefully and what I see annoys me, it annoys me a lot, I foresee more difficult days ahead.
Tonia is very loyal to the people she loves and Brenda to her is like a big sister. Then to see the suffering, the worry that consumes Brenda, has left my habibi with the nerves to the ground.
And any man who has love for his sanity does not want Antonia to be irritated, puffing from her throat.
If these investigations do not advance, only Allah with his infinite mercy, will be able to rid me of having to sleep on the couch.
Youssef tries to calm me down, without success.
-Hafiq, the intelligence chief is in charge of the investigations, and no leftist group yet has claimed to be responsible for the kidnapping. The license plate of the cars that intercepted T
homas was adulterated. We contacted an informant in Saudi Arabia and there is no indication they were involved in this. We have no informal contact in Bahrain, but I find their involvement unlikely, since King Nahan has always been considered an ally. Our government even offered support to him, when that terrible attempt on his family took place. The only positive aspect of all this is that if any terrorist group wanted to execute Bianca, they would certainly have issued some pronouncement or demands to release it.
I read the report and the feeling of being manipulated without any possibility of resisting or counterattacking, leaves me, as ruler, in a delicate situation.
Brenda is holding on to the situation, believing in our ability to solve Bianca's disappearance without having to involve the Brazilian diplomatic service, but if we do not advance and rescue this girl, the good relations we establish with Brazil, diplomatically, can be shaken.
I never imagined that when I took over the government of Qatar, I should have taken more military, rigid military positions.
I have always been a man of argument, of political manoeuvring, of lucidity and of dialogue, but if the enemy provokes me to the confrontation, I will never retreat without a good fight.
And Bianca's kidnapping for me became a personal affair.
If my enemy has found such a breach in the security of my country, ripping Bianca out of our land under our beards, what can they do if they decide to invade our territory? Because of these latest developments, we have increased the security of our borders and are ready to defend ourselves with heavy artillery if necessary.
Youssef and I were discussing the best actions to maintain, for national security when we were interrupted by the arrival of a certain queen who had refused to speak to me since yesterday.
She bursts into the middle of the office, pushing the door with her hips, holding a tray full of Brazilian goodies.
Even more beautiful than yesterday, with her cat eyes, curious and alive, her fleshy red and luscious mouth.
Strange, as the days and months pass, I love her more and more every day.
I disguise the effect that the rippling of her hips causes me, she puts the tray on the table and she did not deign to look in my direction, concentrating all her attention on Youssef.
Lovely Concubine Page 8