The Prince had been watching Farah, but met my gaze as I glanced at him. Would he want me to do this to him, too? My mouth watered at the thought, and I realized that in the short space of time I had known him, I had already fallen in love with him. I wanted to give this man pleasure, to make him feel the way he had made me feel.
Twice.
A giggle rose to my lips and I tried to restrain it. He must have seen it though, because his eyebrows rose.
“Something amuses you?”
I shook my head and looked away, but the giggles still hovered.
He shifted on the bed, grasped my chin, and turned my face to his. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“I am just happy to be your wife,” I said. “I did not expect to be so…”
“So…”
“Sated,” I said. “Twice.” A laugh of pure happiness burst from me.
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “I love your laugh.”
“I love you,” I said, unthinking.
His eyes widened, a strange look appearing in them. I bit my lip. Should I not have said that? Was he angry with me? He didn’t look it.
Sliding a hand into my hair, he pulled me toward him and kissed me. I could smell myself on his lips, sweet and musky, not unpleasant at all, and I opened my mouth to him willingly when he stroked my bottom lip with his tongue.
He groaned, and to my surprise pushed me back into the pillows, kissing me deeply. His tongue delved into my mouth, and his teeth grazed my lips. His kiss was hot and passionate, demanding.
I lifted a hand and, tentatively at first, then more boldly when he didn’t push me away, I sank my fingers into his thick, dark hair. He moaned against my lips, and I tightened my fingers, enjoying his answering shudder. I wanted this man. I wanted all of him.
Beside us, Malik murmured, and the Prince pulled back, rather reluctantly, I thought. I turned my head to see the muscles in the slave’s jaw bunched tight, and he sent a pleading glance to the Prince.
He nodded. “Let her watch,” he instructed Farah.
She sucked a few more times, then as Malik shuddered, she lifted her head. I stared, entranced, as a milky fluid spurted from Malik’s cock onto her face. She closed her eyes, flicking out her tongue to catch it, laughing as it trickled down her chin.
Malik groaned and dropped his head back, fisting his cock as jet after jet splashed onto her face.
“What does it taste like?” I whispered to the Prince.
“Salty,” he said. “Nice.”
I glanced up at him. “You have tasted it?”
He gave a wicked smile. “Of course. I enjoy the pleasure of men and women, little bird.” His eyes taunted me. “I shock you.”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“I disgust you?”
I wouldn’t have said yes even if he did, but the truth was that he didn’t disgust me. Already I could feel my thighs growing wet again at the notion of the Prince making love with another man, with another woman, with me. I shook my head, and his wicked smile grew.
Suddenly, he pushed himself up and off the bed. I sat up, alarmed, but he gestured for me to stay there.
He spoke to Malik, and the slave pulled on his clothes and bowed to his master before exiting the room. The Prince also dismissed the setar player in the corner. Finally, he turned to Farah, who was waiting eagerly beside me.
“Return to the harem,” he instructed.
Her jaw dropped. “You are dismissing me?”
“You have not received pleasure tonight?”
She pouted. “Not from you.”
He chuckled and held out his hand. She put hers into it, and he helped her down off the huge bed. “Do not sulk,” he said as she pulled on her tunic. He helped her fasten the buttons at the top, then held her slippers while she inserted her feet in them.
Taking her hand again, he led her to the door. I scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, wonderful whether I should ask for her to stay. Farah gave me a last, wistful look and a little shake of her head. I didn’t know what to say, so I just gave her a sad smile.
The Prince pushed Farah against the wall and leaned an arm above her head as he whispered something in her ear. Her sulky expression disappeared, and her lips curved. I watched him lift the hem of her tunic and trail a hand up her leg, then slip it underneath her, between her thighs. Her eyelids flickered, and her lips parted.
He stroked her a couple of times, then dropped her tunic, still whispering in her ear. She nodded and raised her face, and he kissed her, long and lovingly.
I watched, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at their close relationship. She was clearly his favorite, and she knew him well. He loved her—that much was obvious, and he desired her.
But he was my husband too. Most of the time I would have to share the Prince with his other wives and concubines, but in seconds we would be alone. My heart raced at the thought of having him to myself. What would happen now?
The Prince drew back, and Farah rapped on the door. The eunuchs outside opened it, and Farah slipped through.
The doors closed.
Chapter Six
The Prince turned and saw me standing by the bed. “I told you to stay there,” he said, walking toward me. He stopped in front of me and put his hands on his hips.
Tongue-tied, I just looked up at him, my mouth going dry.
“Something tells me you are going to be trouble,” he murmured, lifting a hand to brush my cheek with his thumb.
“Me?” I batted my eyelashes at him.
He gave a short laugh and shook his head. “I always pick the troublesome ones.”
He was talking about Farah. “I don’t mind if she stays,” I said.
“Tomorrow, maybe. Not tonight. Tonight I want you to myself.” His pupils had dilated so much his eyes looked black. I stared up into them, captivated. The breeze from the windows riffled the curtains and brushed across my skin, making me shiver—or was it the thought of being with him that sent a quiver through me?
All my senses seemed hyper-sensitized. I was aware of the smell of cinnamon and rose petals, the sounds of voices way off in the distance as visiting dignitaries took a late night stroll through the gardens, the sweet taste of raisins in my mouth. I could feel dampness on my thighs from my own moisture, and between my legs it felt tender, as if I was swollen.
I had never realized I could hunger for someone so much. No wonder so much fuss was made about the sexual act. For a brief moment I pitied my mother, who must have been treated like the cow in the field. What delights she was missing.
“Get on the bed.”
I did as I was told and scrambled onto the bed, lying back on the pillows as I had done before. My eyes widened as the Prince untied the belt around his waist, pushed his trousers down, and stepped out of them.
His cock swung free, already erect, longer, thicker, and much more impressive than Malik’s had been. I swallowed nervously as he climbed onto the bed to lie beside me. He was going to put his cock inside me. How would it fit? I was tiny and he most certainly was not. I couldn’t imagine it not hurting an awful lot.
“Relax,” he said, amused. I hadn’t realized I’d tensed up, but I tried to lie back on the pillows.
He stretched out next to me, resting his head on a hand, and pulled me flush to his body. His warm skin burned against mine. I moistened my lips, trying to get some moisture back in my mouth.
“If you are truly a virgin, it will only hurt briefly,” he said. “That is why we play first.” Taking my hand in his, he lowered it between my legs and slid my fingers down. I was swollen, and extremely wet, my fingers quickly becoming coated with slippery moisture.
“This is what happens when you become aroused,” he said softly. “It makes it easier to make love. Your body lubricates itself for us. And remember that a child’s head must pass down the canal. Even I am not as big as a child’s head.” He grinned.
“You are very big, though,” I said
, looking down at his cock.
He frowned suspiciously. “Did Farah tell you to say that?”
“No.”
His lips twitched. “Hmm.”
I felt overwhelmed by his sheer presence, as well as by the size and strength of his body. He was so young, and yet so powerful. This was the most influential man in Samarkand, if not the whole of the country. His authoritative manner told me he was used to being obeyed. He was rich, handsome enough to win any woman he laid eyes on, and yet he had chosen me. He had waited three years for me. It made me melt.
“My Prince,” I whispered, reaching up to brush his short, dark beard.
“When we are alone,” he said, “you may call me Tash.”
I stared at him with joy. “Tash!”
He smiled. “But only when we are alone, understand? If anyone else is in the room, you must call me Prince.”
“Yes, Tash.” It made me feel special to think I was allowed to use his name, as if it were a magic word that could unlock the door to his heart.
“Turn over,” he said.
I hadn’t expected that. I wanted to kiss him, to feel him on top of me. Was he going to take me like the cow in the field?
I looked up at him, dismayed, and opened my mouth to object. The words faded as he fixed me with his steely stare.
“Will you never do as you are told?” he said, a little irritably.
He also likes them a little bold. I met his gaze, gathered my courage, and shook my head.
His lips curved up slowly. “I see. Then I will have to make you.” Taking my hand, he pulled it firmly across my body so I rolled onto my side, and then he shifted and forced me onto my front.
I curled my arms beneath the pillow, not yet brave enough to fight him, and closed my eyes as he pressed his lips to my shoulders.
“’Tis my turn to give and receive pleasure,” he said, breathing warm air into my ear. “I want you, little bird.” He kissed the delicate skin behind the lobe, which he then sucked into his mouth. “I need you,” he murmured, kissing down my neck. “I want to plunge into you, to take your virgin body and make it mine.”
“Do it,” I whispered back. “Take me.”
He groaned and kissed across my shoulders. “In time. I had thought taking a virgin might be dull. How wrong could I be?”
Slowly, lazily, he pressed his lips over my back, down my spine, around my ribs and waist, as if he was determined to cover every inch of my skin with his mouth. His tongue flicked out occasionally as he tasted me, and I sighed at the feel of its warm wetness.
He shifted on the bed and kissed over my bottom and down my thighs, all the way to my feet, and there he darted his tongue between each of my toes before sucking them into his mouth. I squealed, and he chuckled but refused to stop until he’d completed the task.
His tongue traced around my anklebone, and then he kissed up my calf and behind my knees, which made me shiver.
His lips pressed up my thighs and back to my bottom. He ran his nose up between my cheeks, inhaling. I groaned, unable to believe that turned him on. He laughed and placed a hand on either cheek, parted them, and before I could stop him, licked up the center.
“Oh!” I shuddered.
He gave a growl deep in his throat, and I felt the tip of his tongue penetrate the tight muscle, probing, sliding inside.
The welcome ache began building again, deep inside me. The Prince slipped his hand beneath me and pushed his fingers into my folds, and I felt his throaty laugh as he obviously found fresh moisture to ease the way.
He kissed up my back to my shoulders, kissed my neck, then said in my ear, “Turn over.”
Heart racing, I did so, lying on my back. He gathered me in his arms, pressing his young, strong, hot body against mine, and looked deeply into my eyes.
“I want you,” he murmured.
“I am yours,” I whispered back.
He nodded. “All mine.” All humor had fled his face, and his expression was dark with passion.
Lowering his lips, he pressed them to mine. I closed my eyes, loving the way he kissed gently from one corner of my mouth to the other. His tongue brushed my lip, requesting entry, and I opened my mouth to admit him.
He dipped his tongue inside, and it slid against mine, hot and slick. Braver now, I copied his movements, darting my tongue into his mouth.
The Prince groaned, slid his hand into my hair to cup my head, and kissed me deeply, his mouth wet and hot. His kisses were forceful, his tongue demanding entry this time rather than requesting. I raised a hand to his face, nails scraping his beard, opening my mouth wide to him.
My heart hammered, my pulse raced. I’d never felt so alive.
He kissed down my neck, obviously intent on covering my front with kisses too. Gathering my courage, I placed both hands on his chest and pushed.
He lifted his head, surprised.
“Tash,” I said shyly. “First, may I explore you, too?”
His eyes met mine. He was breathing fast, but I saw pleasure in his eyes, and he rolled onto his back on the soft pillows, raising his arms above his head. “Help yourself.”
I pushed myself up and for a moment just feasted my eyes on his glorious body. Every inch of him was fit and toned. I placed a hand on his arm where it lay on the pillow and stroked down, feeling the bulge of his biceps, down to his shoulders, across his chest.
The muscles there were defined and firm, and his stomach too was flat and taut. He was magnificent.
Lifting up, I leaned over him and pressed my lips to the palms of his hands, then kissed his forearms, his biceps, and his shoulders. I kissed his ribs, across his chest, and over his stomach.
I paused there, tracing my fingers down the line of hair that ran from his chest to the curly thatch in his groin. His erection swelled as my gaze rested on it. I studied it for a moment, noting its shape, the bulbous head, the tiny slit in the top where the milky come would emerge, the ridges and veins on the thick shaft, the sacs at the bottom containing that life-giving fluid.
I looked up at him. He moistened his lips.
“May I?” I asked.
He nodded, lifting up onto his elbows to watch.
I took his cock in my hand. It was warm, and firmer than I’d imagined, almost as hard as rock, although it gave a little as I squeezed my fingers. I heard him emit a soft groan, but I was too busy to look up.
The shaft was covered with a thin layer of silky skin that moved as I stroked my hand up and down. I examined it, fascinated, seeing the veins that provided the hot blood causing it to rise. I stroked him for a while, copying the movements I had seen Farah do to Malik.
Remembering his groan, I squeezed the shaft again and stared, delighted, as a bead of moisture formed on the tip.
I looked up at him and licked my lips. He swallowed and nodded.
Lowering my head, I licked the bead from the tiny slit.
The Prince groaned and fell back onto the pillows, covering his face with his hands. A thrill ran through me. I was giving my husband pleasure.
I licked the tip again then, copying Farah, I covered the head with my mouth, careful to keep my lips over my teeth. He was big that I had to stretch my jaw wide to get it all in, but I managed it.
I sucked, and he groaned again, his hand lowering to bury itself in my hair, holding my head still. His hips pushed up, sliding his cock farther into my mouth. I tried to relax my throat, and I took him in as far as I could. I would practice, I told myself, so I could take him all the way, like Farah had Malik. I would be the best of all the Prince’s women.
Suddenly, I felt his hands on my arms, and he lifted me. In moments I was on my back again, the Prince looming over me.
I blinked up at him, upset that he’d stopped me. “Did I do something wrong?”
He gave a short, sharp laugh. “No, little bird.” He ran a hand down my body, sinking his fingers back into my folds. His face bore a fierce frown. “Are you truly a virgin?”
“Yes, my Prince.”
“You are not lying?”
I shook my head. “I would not,” I whispered.
“We shall see soon enough.” Lying by my side again, he kissed me, hard, then kissed down my neck to my breasts. Cupping one, he covered the nipple with his mouth.
The room had grown warm, and my nipples had relaxed in the sultry air, but as he sucked, I felt the skin contract to a tight peak. As he sucked, he stroked with his tongue, teasing the end until it grew long and hard, and then he swapped to the other one, doing the same to that.
Back and forth he went, until my nipples were red and hard as beads, and I pressed my thighs together, trying to dispel the ache deep inside.
“No,” he said, pushing my knees apart and hooking his leg over one so I couldn’t close them. “Not yet.”
He continued to play with my nipples, flicking one with his fingers while he sucked the other until I writhed beneath him.
Then he lifted his head and took one between thumb and forefinger. This time, he kept his eyes on my face as he plucked it.
I groaned and closed my eyes.
He did it again, harder, tugging on the sensitive skin.
I tried to close my thighs, throbbing, aching.
Then he pinched the nipple, quite hard. I gasped. It hurt for a brief second, and then pleasure spread through me. I arched my back and moaned.
“Yes,” he said. Just that one word, but I knew that somehow I had passed the test.
Pushing himself up, he moved on top of me, between my legs. My heart raced. This was it—the final step.
Chapter Seven
He stroked my pussy, murmuring approval as he obviously found me swollen and slippery. Then he knelt between my thighs and leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand by my shoulders.
With his other hand he guided his cock down to my entrance. I felt the hot tip part my inner lips and I tensed.
The Prince placed his other hand by my shoulder. “Look at me.”
I looked up into his warm brown eyes. They were tender, and yet full of passion. I remembered how he had groaned when I’d sucked him. I wanted to make him do that again, to make him lose control.
He bent his head and kissed me, softly at first, but growing more heated, his tongue delving into my mouth. I lifted my arms around his neck, aching deep inside, and instinctively I lifted my hips to meet the pressure of his cock.
The Prince's Harem Box Set: The Prince's Harem Books 1-5 Page 4