The Prince's Harem Box Set: The Prince's Harem Books 1-5

by Carly Roberts

  I looked at the slender but muscular slave with the boyish face, whose lips curved as our gazes met. In another world, I would also have sought him out, his toned body and mischievous smile the kind of thing that attracted me in a man.

  “He is very handsome,” I said.

  “They are going to help me.” The Prince gestured for Malik to move behind me. Malik did so, resting his hands on my hips.

  “Kiss her, Jasim,” the Prince instructed.

  Obediently, the slave came forward to stand in front of me. His eyes were gentle, promising nothing but pleasure as he lowered his lips to mine.

  I closed my eyes, conscious of Malik stroking my back, shoulders, and arms as Jasim kissed me. My body tingled, my nipples tightening at the sensation of having both men touch me.

  Jasim’s lips were light on mine, his tongue soft as he stroked it into my mouth. He slid a hand to the nape of my neck and held me there as he deepened the kiss, and I felt an answering tingle between my legs.

  The tingle turned into an ache when Malik slipped his hands around my ribcage to cup my breasts. As he continued to kiss my neck, he took each of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger and tugged them. I moaned against Jasim’s mouth, feeling my nipples tightening from soft peaks to hard buttons in Malik’s fingers.

  They continued to do this for a while, Jasim taking time to kiss me, nibbling my lips and teasing me with his tongue, while Malik stroked and plucked my nipples until I was panting against Jasim’s mouth.

  At one point, I thought I heard Jasim give a soft laugh, and it struck me that the Prince wasn’t the only one in the room who was skilled in the art of lovemaking. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time these men had made love to a woman together.

  The notion that they were working as a team intent in teasing me to the edge of a climax made my heart race. I was aware of the Prince walking around us, watching us, and I knew that when Malik squeezed harder on my nipples it was at the Prince’s behest, and when Jasim nipped my lip with his teeth, it was the Prince who’d taught him to do that.

  Just when I thought I could feel the approach of an orgasm, Jasim moved back, and Malik kissed my shoulder, then did the same.

  The Prince took his place behind me. “Is that nice, Samira?”

  I was conscious of my breasts heaving, my face and neck hot from the flush of sexual desire. “No,” I whispered, determined not to let these men think it was that easy.

  All three of them laughed. Apparently I wasn’t as good an actress as I’d thought.

  The Prince brushed his lips against my neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmured.

  My mouth went dry. I considered refusing just to see what he’d do, but I wanted to please him, not aggravate him.

  Slowly, I dropped to the floor.

  He moved a footstool in front of me. “Lean down.”

  I bent forward and rested my forearms on the stool. Doing so left my bottom high in the air and my breasts swinging free, warmed by the heat of the fire.

  Jasim removed his clothing, and I gulped at the sight of his long, thick cock straining toward me. He moved around behind me, and dropped to his knees.

  Also removing his trousers, Malik moved in front of me and likewise knelt down.

  The Prince walked to the dressing table, picked up a bottle, and returned to hand it to Jasim. Then the Prince sat on the sofa to the side, a few feet away. His rested his arms along the back and stretched out his legs.

  I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue, glancing over at him. He said nothing, just tipped his head at me, his dark gaze holding amusement as well as desire.

  Was he waiting for me to ask him to stop? I determined I wouldn’t, no matter what he asked me to do. Neither would I beg for release. We’d both discovered I was highly responsive to stimulation. He couldn’t stop me coming, could he?

  His gaze shifted to Jasim, and he nodded.

  I heard the soft pop when Jasim removed the stopper from the bottle. The slick sound of him oiling his cock followed.

  I blew out a breath and rested my forehead on my tied hands.

  Next, I felt Jasim’s hands on the inside of my thighs. He wanted me to spread my knees. I did so, breathless with anticipation, and he knelt between them, keeping them open.

  The fingers of his right hand touched the base of my spine. Slowly, he slid them down between the cheeks of my bottom. He stroked right down to my pussy, and I felt him insert two fingers, then laugh.

  “You are very wet,” Jasim said, leaning forward to kiss my back as he stroked inside me.

  My face burned.

  “Nothing to say to that, Samira?” the Prince asked, amused.

  I remained silent, and Jasim straightened and removed his fingers. They brushed down my pussy and circled over my clit. I clenched inside and would probably have come with just a few more strokes, but to my disappointment, he withdrew his hand.

  I felt the coolness of the glass bottle on my tailbone, and then the trickle of warm oil between my cheeks.

  “More,” the Prince said. He wanted me slick and slippery, and that helped me to relax. He didn’t want to cause me pain. He wanted to give me pleasure.

  Jasim tipped the bottle again, then placed it on the floor.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as his fingers smoothed the oil down my bottom. He pressed one finger against my tight hole, stroking, lubricating the muscle, and then he pushed it a little way in.

  I bit my hand to stop the groan that wanted to escape. The muscle burned a little, and Jasim waited until I’d relaxed before gently easing his finger out.

  He did it again, and again, spreading the oil around and inside me, and when he joined the first finger with a second, I couldn’t stop a gasp at the exquisite sensation.

  “Nice, Samira?” the Prince asked.

  I refused to look at him, embarrassed that my desire was so obvious.

  Jasim pushed his fingers deeper, and this time I couldn’t keep in a groan as I clenched around him.

  “Fuck,” Jasim said, and removed his fingers. This time, I felt the tip of his cock against the tight muscle.

  “Do you want him to stop?” the Prince asked.

  I shook my head. I didn’t want him to stop because I was burning with desire, an ache growing deep within me.

  Jasim gripped my hip with one hand, guiding his cock into me with the other. He pushed forward against the resisting muscle. Knowing it would be worse if I was tense, I tried to relax, conscious of him murmuring to me softly, telling me it would be all right, that I was beautiful, and that he wanted me to enjoy it.

  In one smooth move, he slid the head of his cock inside me.

  I exclaimed aloud, my body bucking. Jasim murmured something and stroked my back, while Malik bent and kissed my hair.

  “Relax,” Malik whispered, and I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

  Gradually, the tension went out of my body, and Jasim pulled back a little, then stroked forward. I groaned, all pretense at trying to hide my feelings vanishing. I could feel every ridge and vein in his cock, and as he slid back and forth through the tight muscle, I shuddered with longing.

  His hand slid into my hair, and he wound the short locks around it once, then applied gentle pressure. I lifted my head to see Malik’s cock in front of me, the tip glistening with moisture.

  I glanced at the Prince. His chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths—he was more turned on than he looked, but he didn’t move. He just watched me with his dark eyes, waiting to see what I’d do.

  Returning my gaze to Malik, I moistened my lips, then opened my mouth to take him inside.

  I sucked the moisture off the tip, and he groaned and sank his hand into my hair, pushing his hips forward a little.

  Removing himself from my mouth, he whispered, “All right?”

  I’d long since mastered the art of oral sex, and did not hesitated to whisper back, “Deeper, Malik. I won’t break.”

  His eyes met mine, a shade greener than t
he Prince’s but filled with desire, and he plunged between my lips again, this time thrusting farther into my mouth.

  I closed my eyes, hoping the Prince was enjoying the performance. While Jasim thrust slowly behind me, Malik slid between my lips to touch the back of my throat.

  Inside, the deep ache continued to grow. I’d told myself that the Prince wouldn’t be able to stop me coming if I wanted to, but suddenly I realized that as turned on as I was, I couldn’t come without my clit being stimulated, and he wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Moisture ran down my thighs and my clit throbbed, but my orgasm remained elusive.

  Jasim thrust harder, and I moaned around Malik’s cock. My whole body seemed on fire. I was desperate for release. It wasn’t only my internal muscles that ached—my whole body hungered for pleasure, and I knew the Prince was aware of this, and that he was enjoying this sensual torture that his slaves were carrying out on me.

  By now Jasim was pumping hard, his cock sliding easily through the tight muscle. My breasts swung, the nipples grazing the top of the footstool, and I moaned again, saliva running down my chin as Malik thrust between my lips.

  Suddenly, he stopped and withdrew, and I let my head fall forward to rest on my hands.

  “Do you want us to stop, Samira?” the Prince asked, his voice husky with desire. “Accept that I am in charge of your desire, and I will let you come.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fuck off.”

  He laughed. He must have gestured to Jasim, because the slave smacked my bottom, hard enough to make me jump.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, angry now, throbbing and aching.

  Jasim’s fingers dug into my hips, and he thrust with earnest, pounding into me. I clenched my hands into fists and panted, and then he pulled out, and I felt the hot spurts of his seed trickling between my cheeks, dribbling down to my pussy.

  I tried to clench and come. A shudder of pleasure rippled through me, but it was brief and unsatisfying, and I sagged onto the footstool and moaned.

  “Lift her,” the Prince said, and Malik rose and picked me up in his arm as if I weighed little more than a pile of blankets.

  Chapter Seven

  He carried me to the sofa and sat next to the Prince, who then dropped to his knees in front of us, while Jasim sat to one side, happy to watch. Malik turned me so I sat in his lap, my back to his chest. Lifting my wrists that were still tied together, he raised the scarf over his head so I lay stretched out against him.

  Kissing my hair, he lifted me until the tip of his cock pressed against the tight muscle in my bottom.

  “No,” I moaned, realizing they weren’t going to stop.

  Malik ignored me, though, and lowered me down. He must have oiled his cock when I wasn’t looking, because the head slid inside me in one smooth move.

  “Fuck!” I jerked, and he stopped and held me there until I’d adjusted. Then, lowering his arms, he slid his large hands under my thighs and parted them. He lifted my legs over his and pulled them toward him a little, exposing me to the Prince’s gaze.

  I felt Malik’s cock pushing deep inside me, as far as he could go, right to the root. I groaned, burning, aching, still desperate for release.

  The Prince moved closer and smoothed his hands up my thighs to my pussy, although he doesn’t touch it. Instead, he bent forward and covered my nipple with his mouth.

  He sucked, hard, and I arched my back and cried out. Swapping to the other one, he caught the first between his thumb and forefinger and tugged it.

  I groaned and squirmed, but that only drove Malik deeper inside me. I ached, yearning, desperate for release. My nipples throbbed, teased to long, hard peaks by the Prince, who seemed unconcerned how much he was torturing me, intent on driving me mad with desire.

  He wouldn’t stop until I asked him. He would continue this way all night, until I died from exhaustion.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  He raised his head. “Please, what?”

  “You are in charge of my desire. Let me come.”

  His lips curved. Releasing his cock from his trousers, he moved forward, and suddenly I realized what he was going to do.

  With Malik still deep in me, the Prince pressed his cock against my entrance and slid inside.

  I arched my back and cried out at the sensation of them both inside me. I felt incredibly stretched and full to the brim. Every cell in my body was sensitive and aroused; every nerve ending tingled and ached for release.

  “Aaahhh.” The Prince exhaled with a sigh and gave a slow thrust. “You are so wet and swollen, Samira. You are beautiful.”

  “You are,” Malik confirmed, kissing around my ear. “So beautiful.”

  Their words sent warmth flooding through me. I felt bathed in bliss. What could be more wonderful than being loved by three men in one evening, who were all concerned with nothing but extending my pleasure and making it last all night?

  The Prince began to thrust rhythmically, long and deep, and Malik’s hips moved beneath me, echoing his movements. Surprised I hadn’t yet come, I relaxed back and just let them move inside me. Now my body knew it could have an orgasm, it was as if it wanted to wait and enjoy this experience, which would almost certainly never happen again as long as I lived.

  “Ohhh,” I moaned, loving the stroke of them inside me.

  “How does it feel?” The Prince leaned forward to kiss me.

  “Like…oh…heaven.” There was no pain, no tension, only ecstasy, and as the last remnants of wariness and fear faded, I relaxed completely in their arms.

  “Yes…” the Prince hissed, and thrust more firmly.

  I gasped, then groaned as Malik pulled my thighs wide, pumping into my behind.

  The Prince kissed me, plunging his tongue into my mouth even as he plunged his cock into my pussy. He thrust again and again, filling the air with the slick sounds of his cock sliding into my swollen flesh. And then, as his body tightened, he adjusted his angle and ground against my clit.

  I came immediately, my muscles clenching around the two of them. It was the best orgasm I’d ever had, like an earthquake, the buildup long, intense, and almost excruciating, the aftershocks making me gasp out loud as pleasure rippled through me.

  Both men came at the same time, filling me with their seed. I felt them swell inside me, and emotion overtook me at the sound of their sighs, the way their muscles tightened, and the slow thrust of their hips.

  I sank my hands into Malik’s hair, and kissed the Prince’s head where he’d rested his forehead on my shoulder. Tears ran down my face, but I couldn’t wipe them away with my hands still tied.

  The Prince lifted his head and saw my tears, but he didn’t show alarm or anger. He just smiled and gently withdrew, then helped to hold me while Malik did the same.

  Lifting me in his arms, he carried me back to the bed. The two slaves came with us, and when the Prince lay on one side of me, Malik lay on the other, while Jasim curled up at the bottom and stroked my feet.

  Pleased the slaves were allowed to share in the afterglow of lovemaking as well as the height of it, I curled onto my side and nestled back into the Prince’s warm embrace.

  Jasim passed him a cloth, and the Prince wiped my face clear of tears. Then the slave dipped another cloth into some water that had been warming by the fire. The Prince smoothed it down over my body and between my legs, cleaning me with soothing strokes.

  I let him, a little shy now it was all over, and then he pulled the sheets over us and moved closer to me.

  He kissed my hair. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well. Thank you.”

  Malik reached out to stroke the back of his fingers along my cheek. I felt a glow of satisfaction I hadn’t expected.

  The Prince pulled me tight against him and nuzzled my neck. “Was it pleasant?”

  “You know it was,” I said, a little sulky at the smugness in his voice. I rubbed my nose. “I was surprised I didn’t come as soon as you slid inside me.”

  He stroked
my hair. “Sometimes when the body has experienced a false orgasm, it delays the next one a while.”

  “A false orgasm?”

  “What you had when Jasim came. A brief climax. You came, but because you weren’t being stimulated, it didn’t feel as strong as usual.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know that. I didn’t even realize he’d been watching me that closely. Clearly, he was a lot more experienced than me at all of this.

  “You look tired,” he said. “You should sleep.”

  “Will you all stay?” I felt cozy and comfortable with them keeping me warm. I didn’t want to return to my cold bed in the tent just yet.

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll leave after I’ve had a nap,” I said, yawning. “I promise.”

  “If you do, I’ll come looking for you.”

  My eyes snapped open, and I turned onto my back to look up at him. “What?”

  “I want you to stay,” he said. “I am here for the week. Stay with me, and we can continue this voyage of discovery.”

  My heart pounded. “Truly?”

  “Truly?” He kissed me. “I want you, Samira. You are wild and passionate, and I haven’t nearly had enough of you yet. Will you stay with us?”

  My eyelids drooped. “Yes. Please.”

  “Good.” The Prince’s gaze met his slave’s, and to my surprise I saw relief cross his features. He’d really thought I’d leave? It almost made me laugh.

  “Thank you, my Prince,” I whispered, almost asleep.

  He kissed my hair and tightened his arms. “While we are here, you may call me Tash.”

  “Tash?” A beautiful name for a beautiful man.

  I wanted to say the words, but I was too tired, and I fell asleep.

  *

  It was the best week of my life. During the day, I returned to the troupe and practiced new performances or went shopping in town. A couple of times, Malik or one of the other slaves took me around the Palace, showing me the magnificent library, the enormous kitchens, and other amazing sights I’d never seen the like of before.

  In the evening, I danced, feeling the Prince’s eyes fixed on me at all times. I’d wondered whether after a night or two he’d lose interest and send me away, but if anything he only seemed more captivated.