by Emma Wildes
Looking into his dark eyes, she whispered honestly, “In many ways, I barely know you, but ... in truth, I somehow trust you as a man, not caring in the least for your titles or royal background. I do not know if it is normal or not, but my body seems to like your touch despite all the whispers I have heard from titled ladies about their disgust of the marriage bed."
He nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her ear. “You are no longer an Englishwoman, and no one will ever know what happens in this bed but us. And as your lover, I am not a prince, but a man who seeks to please you in all ways. You must tell me what you want and like, and in return, I will teach you everything I can about the infinite variety of ways men and women find sexual gratification. There are many, and I think with your sensual nature, you will like them all."
Realizing that he must have vast experience to make such a statement, Sarah said tartly before she thought, “I suppose I will benefit from your many previous encounters. How charming. This is inequitable, my Lord. I know nothing of this game, and you are obviously a master."
Ahmed laughed then, a gentle exhale across her heated skin, his mouth nipping lightly across her jaw. “Your sharp tongue does not hide your true feelings, that is for certain. What did you expect, my wife, a virgin? I am nearly thirty. Besides, believe me, you want a man who knows how to bring you to climax, and it isn't an innate skill, I'm afraid, but has to be practiced and learned."
"It does?” Curious and a little mollified, Sarah lightly ran her fingers down the corded strength of his neck. “That's interesting. I suppose—"
"Let me show you.” His mouth moved to cover hers, interrupting her speech. Sarah found she melted into the blazing kiss as his tongue delved deep, ravishing her mouth. When he finally lifted his head, he said hoarsely, “Open for me. Spread your legs, my lovely wife, and let me inside you."
"Yes,” she breathed and obeyed, all too aware of his shift in position as he settled over her, his rigid penis hard against her softness in preparation for possession of her body, the swollen tip prodding her female entrance.
He didn't penetrate her, but instead, licked a low path along her shoulder to her breast, taking the entire nipple into the heated recess of his mouth, sucking it deep. She shuddered in response, gasping out loud. His tongue swirled the budding tip, tantalizing, arousing it until she moved beneath him, opening her legs wider in explicit invitation, not able to believe her own rapacious need. A soft cry of pleasure rang out as he answered the pressure of her hands at the small of his back. The invasion of his hardened shaft into her throbbing passage made her arch and take him as deep as possible with instinctive reaction.
It felt marvelous ... he felt marvelous, Sarah thought in languid enjoyment as he began to move in and out, the slick slide of his sex retreating and advancing, causing her breath to come quickly, her eyes drifting shut. When he began to once again whisper soft words in his native tongue in her ear, she felt the melodic cadence match the rhythm of their moving bodies, his scent and passion the only thing in her world.
Rubbing his muscled shoulders, she moaned and held on as the swirling myriad of blissful orgasmic sensation built to a quivering peak that suddenly plummeted her over the top, her keening scream unchecked as she climaxed wildly, disbelieving that such pure joy could be possible even as her inner muscles pulsed and clenched his plunging, rock-hard erection.
He ejaculated moments later, deep, deep against her womb, her dazed mind registering the liquid heat of the flood of released sperm as he pulsated inside her now limp body. His skin was suddenly covered by a sheen of sweat, a low, hoarse groan escaping his throat. Once his breathing slowed, Ahmed raised himself slightly to his elbows, studying her face with an amused and tender gaze. “See? You do not need an elixir, beautiful Sarah."
"Is that unusual?” she asked, not sure if she should be chagrined or not at her abandon, her voice low and breathy. “Do not all women enjoy it so much?"
"Only the matchless ones,” he said, his lashes half-lowered, his smile sultry and wickedly attractive. “And you, my English rose, are without equal."
* * * *
Moonlight poured in the tall, courtyard windows, gilding the alabaster skin of the woman beneath him and gleaming across the burnished gold of her tumbled lustrous hair. Sweet air floated inside, the fragrance of orange blossoms mingling with the musky scent of sexual intercourse, the cool breeze welcome on his heated skin. Fighting the beckoning ecstasy of carnal release, Ahmed moved forward slowly again into his wife's tight, hot vaginal passage, marveling over both his exquisite and unprecedented insatiable desire and her incredible sensual response.
Sarah arched and gave a low cry of pleasure as he touched her womb with the pulsing tip of his cock, her legs locked around his waist, her throat an arc of ivory as she threw back her head and trembled. Judging by her small panting breaths and the restless push of her hands on the small of his back, he withdrew and plunged deep again, this time harder, the delicious friction testing every bit of his control.
"Come for me,” he urged in his own language, pushing his swollen shaft to the hilt in her luscious body.
With the next hard thrust, she obeyed, a whimper escaping her throat as she convulsed and clung to him. The ripples of her contracting vagina dissolved whatever restraint he had left as he exploded with a low groan, his orgasm so intense that he shut his eyes and felt his breath lock in his throat, releasing a flood of semen in a hot, relentless rush of erotic fulfillment.
Choppy breathing filled the quiet of the room, and Ahmed stared down in almost wonder at the woman he still possessed in the most primitive and intimate way a man could own a woman. She was a golden goddess, he decided silently, or a sorceress sent to bewitch him. Too beautiful with her delicate features and voluptuous body ... and too passionate to believe. Her eyes half-shut and her body pliant in the afterglow of acute sexual pleasure, Sarah looked both sated and sleepily gorgeous. When he eased out from between her legs, she sighed lightly as if regretting the loss.
With a muffled laugh, Ahmed collapsed on his back beside her lax, lovely body and stated, “Remind me to eat more tomorrow, so I can keep up my strength. Otherwise, my hunger for you might just render me as weak as a newborn colt, barely able to stand."
Rolling to her side, her gleaming silken hair streaming over her slender shoulders, Sarah's smile glimmered in the brilliant moonlight. “You look strong to me, Your Highness.” Lifting one slim hand, she rubbed it across his sweat-sheened chest. “You are hard everywhere, and I can feel the ridges of muscle and sinew. You have the body of a warrior, not a privileged royal who can command others to do his bidding."
"A man must be able to defend both himself and his property,” he told her, liking the light touch of her fingers. “It is the natural course of things here and weakness is despised and taken advantage of, unfortunately.” It was true, he trained and hunted often with Hamet, both of them skilled with a knife and sword and excellent horsemen from riding so frequently.
"I see.” She lifted one dark blond brow, the corner of her soft mouth lifting wryly. “I suppose I am considered to be your property, my Lord?"
Cautious, because he knew her to be used to a certain—in his opinion—indulgent level of independence, Ahmed replied evasively, “I would defend you to the death, beautiful Sarah."
Her fingers trailed down the damp plane of his chest and came to rest on his stomach, just above where his still-half-erect shaft rested. “Spoken like a true diplomat,” she said with a hint of challenge incongruous to her complete femininity of soft flowing hair and enticing curves, her creamy thighs gleaming with his semen. “However, you did not answer my question, though I am not sure you need to. This is a man's country and you are a symbol of the beliefs here. Tell me, does your father have more than one wife?"
He knew she would have questions and understandable doubts about their very different cultures, but wasn't sure bed was the proper place to address them. Though he did, he silently acknowledged to hi
mself, want her to be open and honest with him. She was used to William, who listened to her opinions and concerns, and no doubt expected that kind of equity from her new husband.
Sarah's dark blue eyes were like unfathomable pools, shaded by her lush lashes. Ahmed said honestly, “More than one wife, no, he does not. However, he does have what you English would think of as mistresses ... more than a few of them, though not quite a harem in the traditional sense with all the old-fashioned taboos. He is a progressive man in many ways, but I admit, not perfect, and he enjoys his rank and privileges with the full vigor of a man in his prime."
Her lips parted slightly. A startled look came over her lovely face at his answer, and her hand lifted quickly away from him. She stammered, two spots of color coming into her soft cheeks, “I didn't think ... that is, I am ignorant in many ways ... but ... I suppose you must do the same."
Ahmed quickly captured her hand, deliberately holding her stricken gaze. “I do not keep a bevy of mistresses to service me, though I admit I have had my share of women in the past. My personal opinion is that it is an archaic practice, and I live in a more modern world. I take lovers, not concubines."
Sarah looked mollified by his firm tone. She frowned, her smooth forehead wrinkling slightly. “Does your mother not mind his infidelity?"
Truthfully, he answered, “I have never asked, for it is between them. I honor my mother and father, but they rule their lives differently. To their credit, they do not try to influence me to conform to the old traditions but allow me to conduct my life as I wish to live it. For instance, neither of them objected to my choice in a wife."
Her mouth trembled slightly. “They must have been disappointed you did not choose someone of your own race."
"Not at all. When I expressed my deep desire and regard for you, they both gave their blessing."
Nude and graceful next to him, her slender fingers still in his grasp, Sarah blushed becomingly. “I never knew you felt that way back in England. During your visit, I merely thought you were being polite and charming to me because you are William's friend."
"Your innocence and youth precluded any courtship,” Ahmed told her, remembering the self-control it had taken to conceal his interest. “I was captivated then by your striking beauty, which has grown like a bud unfurling to a lovely flower, but I also appreciated your spirit and intellect. My title did not impress you in any way, and you treated me with friendliness and were refreshingly without conceit or guile."
"The way a person looks is just the outer shell,” she reminded him, the prim words at odds with her opulent, lush naked body as she reclined in his bed.
With a low laugh, Ahmed said, “True, my beautiful philosopher. However, I do not think you need to worry that I will seek sexual satisfaction elsewhere, Sarah, if tonight is any indication of what our marriage holds. Come now, even if you have never lain with anyone else, surely you sense we come together with special physical joy, and I will tell you it is so. Why on earth would I need a mistress, when I have these?” Releasing her hand, Ahmed cupped one splendid breast, relishing the softness and high, firm shape, the heavy weight of it in his palm as he circled the taut nipple with his thumb. “Or this,” he murmured and leaned forward to kiss her silky mouth, just a light pressure. “And here,” his hand slid from breast to hip to the juncture of her thighs, seeking the heat and wetness of her soft sex and sliding one finger inside her, “you are more than perfect, you are heaven, so female and warm and ready for me. I can feel my seed inside you and it arouses me to think you could already carry my child."
A low sound came from Sarah's throat as he gently explored her passage, her slim legs parting as she shifted from her side to her back to give him better access. “How can that feel so good so soon?” she asked in a hushed, strangled voice. “Oh, Ahmed ... please, don't stop."
With a dark smile, he obliged the subtle lift of her pelvis, feeling her supplicant need in the way her inner muscles tightened around his invading finger. With delicate skill, he easily brought her already sensitized body to climax, his thumb rubbing her swollen nub as he watched her flushed form move and quiver, her final expiring sigh as she found uninhibited erotic culmination echoing through the bedchamber in an earthy whisper.
Incredible, he thought, gently sliding his finger free. They had been making love for hours and despite her lack of experience, she was as eager as he and so easily aroused.
And his delectable young wife was correct on one point, a certain entirely possessive male voice whispered in his brain, she belonged entirely to him.
Chapter 5
Hamet chuckled, his good-natured face alight with amusement. “Never have I heard a word so pronounced, Your Highness, but you are getting better. Try again, carefully enunciating as I taught you. Please say ‘Bring me more wine and sweet dates'."
Obediently, Sarah repeated the long syllables, and this time he didn't laugh at her, but nodded instead, saying, “That was passable, at least, and I think most would understand you if they listened carefully."
"Your language is very difficult,” she grumbled, seated across from her husband's cousin on a low couch, reaching for the tiny exquisite porcelain cup on the table between them. “I speak fluent French, Italian, and a smattering of both German and Russian and thought I had a gift for learning other tongues.” After nearly a week of lessons, she was still unable to communicate with any reliability with the servants, and it was a little frustrating.
Nearly as handsome as Ahmed with his clean features and sleek dark hair, Hamet raised a brow, his casual cross-legged pose showing a similar strength of body in his graceful, economical movements and the athletic width of his shoulders. “Forgive me, but I cannot see why a lady of breeding, one who is so beautiful and desirable, would need such education."
In the few days of their acquaintance, she had already gathered that her husband's cousin viewed her as a curiosity—a woman who did not accept the role of submissive maiden, but instead spoke freely and did not defer to anyone.
Sarah took a small sip of the sweet hot coffee and smiled wryly. “Though I thank you for the compliment, may I point out that what I look like has nothing to do with my intellect. I went to school in Paris because I have always admired that wonderful city, and the other girls there were from a variety of countries, as well. I learned their languages so we could converse, the same as I would like to be able to speak to Halide or Fahir.” She made a face. “Well, at least Halide. Fahir does not deign to acknowledge my presence. I suppose as a female, I am beneath his notice."
It was true, the old man, though he was with Ahmed constantly, did little more than brush her occasionally with a cold, disapproving glance.
Hamet nodded, his dark eyes glimmering. “He is of the old school, Your Highness. Not only are you female, you are foreign, you do not cover your hair, and though he would deny it, he views Ahmed as a favorite son. Even with your undeniable beauty, you would not have been his choice as the mother of my cousin's children."
To think that was the role assigned to her in the mind of her husband's advisor was not surprising, but it still filled her with a certain irritation. Sarah said tartly, “I am not a mare, to be bought and bred."
"Women exist on this earth to pleasure men with their bodies and continue our race."
That smug observation made her burst out laughing. “Is that what you think of your mother, Hamet?"
He blinked. “What?"
"Your mother. The woman who labored to give you life—is that what you think of her? That she is simply an animal for breeding? An object to give your father pleasure?"
The indelicacy of the subject made his cheeks color, and obviously at a loss, Ahmed's cousin looked chagrined. “I do not think of my parents in that fashion,” he said stiffly.
"And that is not how I would have anyone think of me,” Sarah said firmly. “If Fahir thinks I am inferior and insignificant, my husband had better not share those views."
Looking slightly offended, H
amet gave her a look of masculine reproof. “It is not for you to decide what he thinks ... but I will tell you Fahir was not able to pass that sentiment on to Ahmed, who sees the world in a much different, more enlightened way. From an early age, my royal cousin wanted to see other lands and has traveled extensively, not to mention his desire to attend university in your country, where he met your brother."
The inevitable sunshine was bright, and even in the shade, it was hot. Luckily, Sarah now had a myriad of dresses in the local style, the loosely draped material certainly cooler than formal English dress. The mere thought of layers of petticoats made her break out in a gentle sweat. She said neutrally, watching Hamet's face, “You and my husband must be good friends as well as family."
Hamet nodded. “He is a fine man, and very important to our country right now. We need diplomats, not warriors, and he is the voice of reason in an often unreasonable debate over our trade policies with Europe and Asia. What is more, he commands the respect of his father, our king, and with such, has the ability to influence both commerce and politics. Many people here exist in poverty and he wishes to change that. Others, like his older brother, Omar, do not care for the common masses, but seek to increase their own position only, never having the best interests of our country at heart. It is an internal struggle we do not need, for it weakens us."
It was incredible to think she had already been married for over a week, but it was true, and Sarah was learning that Hamet was right, Ahmed was not just an ardent, skillful lover, but also considerate and intelligent. They were getting to know each in other in not just the carnal sense, and it was an interesting, challenging journey. For all his open mind, Sarah knew her often forthright statements and lack of submissiveness sometimes startled her new husband. In turn, learning to adjust to his customs, country, and her new life was a little intimidating. She murmured, “Besides you, I have not met any of his family."