by Sabrina York
The sheik’s private quarters were vast. Asha followed the vizier down a long, echoing hallway. She had no idea what to expect and fear coursed through her. Though she had only seen him at a distance, the sheik was a man of frightening countenance.
All the girls in the harem sighed when they spoke of him, but Asha had also heard other whispers, terrifying stories, or a man who fervently plied a lash.
She had been whipped many times now by the kadin and the eunuchs when she had been disobedient or lax in her studies, and while those whippings had started an odd fire in her belly, she did not know if she could bear such attention from a man as frightening as the sheik.
They stopped at a set of intricately carved doors. The vizier looked down at her, adjusted the fall of her hair, smoothed the lapel of her harem jacket. Pinched a nipple.
“Do you remember what you were taught?” His voice was deep, rumbling.
Asha could not meet his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”
“Do not disappoint him. I should hate to have to toss you into the sea.”
Women who displeased the sheik were disposed of in a brutal manner. Drowned like kittens in a burlap bag. Asha shuddered. She would do anything to avoid such a fate. “Yes, my lord.”
The vizier opened the door and ushered her in. “Your companion for the evening, Your Eminence.”
He sat at the far end of the room on a wide throne, against a crenulated arch overlooking a flagstone terrace. The only other items in the cavernous chamber were a low table covered with foodstuffs—and an enormous bed draped in fluttering curtains.
He made not a sound, but gestured at her to approach. The echo of the doors closing as the vizier left them alone resonated through the room.
She did not delay. She knew better. She glided to his side and, eyes downcast, stood before him.
He took her chin in his hand and tipped it up so he could see her face. “Lovely,” he murmured. His fingers fluttered on her neck like the wings of a butterfly. “Lovely.” He cupped her breast. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to hold still. This was her life now. Her meaning. Her purpose.
She was his and nothing more.
“Remove your clothes.”
Asha winced.
“Do it.” The sheik’s expression was frightening. Arousing. She did as he commanded, quivering as she stood naked before him. “Now kneel.”
“Stop.”
The way Edward said that one word, so tight, clipped, made Kaitlin tremble.
“What?”
He lounged back in his chair, as she imagined the sheik had done, and splayed his legs. “I should like you to remove your clothes as well.”
Kaitlin’s heart lurched. They were in the library. She couldn’t be naked in a library. Could she?
“Do it.” He parroted the sheik’s words in a peculiar tone. Why it sent a shaft of lust through her, she couldn’t say. She did as he commanded, pulling off her dress. She shivered, though it was not cold, and stood before him, bare and vulnerable. Her nipples pebbled.
“Shouldn’t we lock the door?”
His eyes gleamed. “No.”
She stomped a foot. His attention fixed on her bobbling breasts. “Edward. The servants—”
“They won’t intrude.”
“They could.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“Edward—”
He stood, sauntered over to her side. Thumbed a nipple. “Does it make you nervous, standing here so exposed in my library?”
She flushed. “You know it does.”
He bent his head and captured the swollen peak with his lips. Nuzzled. “Excellent.”
“What?” She lurched away, but he caught her and held her still as he feasted on one ripe tip and then another. Excitement bubbled within her. Dribbled out.
“I like keeping you off balance. It’s…arousing.” His palm skated over her hips, shifted down. He stroked her slit, just a teasing touch. She shuddered. He sat once more and gestured with his fingers—just as the sheik had done in her imagination. “Continue reading.”
“I-I’ve forgotten where I was.”
“Do it.”
She hunted for the phrase. She could barely focus.
“Do it.” The Sheik’s expression was frightening. Arousing. She did as he commanded, quivering as she stood naked before him. “Now kneel.”
“That sounds promising.”
Kaitlin blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kneel.”
She shook her head, unable to work through his meaning.
“Kneel, Kaitlin.”
Oh! Oh. She did. Good thing, too. Her knees had gone weak.
“And continue.”
Heavens. What was it about this man that had her in such a frenzy? She could feel the dampness between her thighs. Her body hummed. Her pearl—the button he had only brushed—thrummed in time with her pulse.
“Kaitlin, I gave you an order. Are you disobeying?”
Heavens. She snapped her attention back to the book.
Asha went onto her knees before the mighty sheik, quivering.
He studied her for a long, long while. She knew not to move. Not to do anything—until he commanded it of her.
“Come closer, girl. That’s right. On your knees.” He had not commanded her to rise. She edged nearer and then, when he spread his legs, settled between them.
Edward patted his knee. Kaitlin did not need any more than that tiny gesture to know what he wanted. She did as Asha had, and made her way between Edward’s thighs.
“You have been trained to please a man?”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
He untied his loose silken trousers and revealed his cock. Asha gasped. Lust shot through her. He was large and slender and fully aroused. Too heavy to stand on its own, it lay at an angle across his belly.
She glanced up at Edward. “Did you want me to undo your trousers?” she asked with a grin.
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Not just yet. Keep reading.”
“Take it in your hand.”
She did. He was warm, velvet. Much more intriguing than the marble phalluses on which they had been trained. Much larger than the vizier’s cock. Asha wondered if she could take it all in.
“Stroke me.” She did, bringing her fist up and down slowly, then faster, then in varied rhythms. The sheik closed his eyes and leaned back his head, reveling in her attentions.
He stopped her with a light touch to her cheek. Brought her closer. She did not resist. She knew what he wanted.
Slowly, she took him into her mouth. She was careful not to use her teeth, careful to give him only her softest flesh. He groaned and pulled her closer, letting her work on him for a long, long while. She tasted the salty hint of his pleasure and sucked harder, eager to give him release.
Edward shifted. Kaitlin glanced at him. Quirked a brow. He nodded.
She had his placket undone and his cock in her mouth in a trice. And, ah, he tasted divine. She worked him just as Asha had been trained, following every instruction to the letter, glorying in his sighs and moans. Edward, apparently, did not have the restraint the sheik possessed. It was not a long, long while before he stopped her.
When he spoke, his voice was ragged. “Continue reading.”
“But Edward—”
“Continue.”
“I like this part.”
“The next part is better.”
The sheik pulled away. His eyes were hot, his features tight. “On your hands and knees,” he snapped.
Asha’s heart sank. Had she displeased him? Would he whip her now? Or worse?
But she didn’t dare plead for her life. She knew better than to speak. Her mouth had been filled with fat phalluses more than once in the training room when she’d spoken out of turn.
She arranged herself as he so commanded. On her hands and knees, naked, before him. He stepped behind her and picked something up from the table. She could not see what it was.
; A lash fell. Though she had sworn she would not, she cried out. Another and another lash fell, but not on her back as they had in previous punishments. These fell on her bottom.
She looked over her shoulder, though she knew she should not. The sheik held a thin quirt, which he flailed from one direction and then another. Each time unerringly finding her quivering flesh.
Her bottom heated. Her ardor rose. Oh please, she thought. Please.
The blows stopped. A new sensation gripped her as the sheik ran the quirt between her legs. She bit her lip to keep from moaning as the little flap of leather at the end snagged on her throbbing button. He pulled back and tapped her there, several times, each harder than the last. He continued this until, unable to hold back any longer, she cried out.
“Ah,” he murmured. “I like the sound of your cries. You may beg and plead.”
“Please, Your Eminence. Please.”
“Wider. Spread your legs wider.”
Asha froze as something touched the entrance to her sheath. The handle of the quirt. It thrust in and she howled. She knew she was not allowed to have a release. Desperately, she held back. She was so very close.
“Please, Your Eminence, please fuck me.”
All movement stopped. “What did you say?”
“Please fuck me.”
The sheik snarled and fell to his knees behind her. He forced her legs farther apart and grasped her hips and yanked her toward him and shoved his thick, hard cock deep—
“Hell.” Edward took the book from her hands and tossed it aside.
“What are you doing? It was just getting good—”
He grunted and kneeled beside her, flipping her over onto her hands and knees without a word.
It was an odd position, one she’d never considered—
She flinched as his cock, heavy and hard, shoved in. But only because the intensity, the incredible delirious pleasure stunned her.
She dropped her head, angling her bottom higher, so he could have better access. “Ah! Ah!” She cried with each thrust.
His fingers tightened painfully on her hips and he wrenched her forward and back. “Yes, yes. God. Yes.”
He reached around to pluck at her nipples, not gentle, tender teases, but hard, rough tugs. She shuddered. Then he found her pearl and rubbed it harshly as well. She was soon gasping for air, the dizzying sensation of his cock plowing in and out of her, the distraction of the delicious pain made her mind spin. He reared back and landed a smack on her bottom and she seized.
“Edward! Ed—”
“God! Yes!” He plunged in again, with a tremendous thrust, sank deep and nested there, motionless. Motionless, but for tiny little jerks of his hips, the minute flexing of his fingers on her waist as he held her in place. The near silent gasps as each wave swamped him.
He collapsed on her, bracing his bulk on trembling arms. She shivered as he kissed her neck, her spine. She groaned as he slipped out.
Oh, that had been marvelous. So feral and raw. How she wished it had gone on forever.
She turned and wrapped Edward in her arms. He tugged her down onto the Aubusson carpet and they held each other.
Really, she wished the best for Aunt Agnes. Was it wrong to hope she lingered for a long, long while?
Chapter Ten
“You really are quite talented,” Edward murmured, pulling her closer and nibbling on her shoulder. She lounged between his legs with her bottom pressed against his sated cock, sketching. They were both naked. In the folly.
Damn, it was wonderful to not fear interruptions at every turn.
“Humph.” She rubbed out a line and tried again. “For some reason, I just can’t seem to get the landscapes right.”
“No one likes landscapes. You could make a living with your portraits.”
“Ridiculous. People love landscapes. Why do you suppose there are so many of them?”
“People have to have something to put on their walls other than portraits of odious relations.”
She snickered. “Speaking from experience, Your Grace?”
He grunted a laugh. His relations were odious to be sure.
He wasn’t sure why he missed them.
Maybe it wasn’t them he missed, so much as the hubbub surrounding them. Still—he kissed her nape—this was nice.
A pleasant silence, but for the scratch of her charcoal, settled between them.
He broke it with a thought that had been weighing on his mind. “So tell me. How does a woman come to be a companion?”
“Hmm. A common enough story.” She sketched as she spoke. “When my father died and my brother came into a modest inheritance, he went rather amok.”
“Amok?”
“Rather.” She paused in her work and sent him a smile, but it wasn’t a happy thing. “He burned through everything Da left him, on women…and gaming. And then—” She turned the charcoal and shaded a bit. He peeped over her shoulder at her creation. It was quite good. For a landscape.
“And then?”
“Ah. And then he went through everything Da left me. And then he went through more.”
“More than he had?”
“Yes. Much more than he had.”
“Where did he get it?”
She snorted, but he was unsure if she did so because of his question, or because, just then, she made an error. She licked her finger and erased the mark. Blurred it a bit, until she liked the effect.
“Where did he get it?”
She snorted again. Ah yes. It was the question, not the error. “A brigand.”
He winced. “A brigand?”
She shrugged. “Brigand, marauder, thief. He has so many appellations.”
“So your brother owes this man money?”
“A small fortune.” She nibbled her lip. “Perhaps not so small. Anyway, there was no money to pay, so Callum—that’s my brother—decided to sell the only thing he had left with any value.”
Edward did not like the way this story was unfolding. It put a nasty gnarl in his gut. Still, he asked, “Which was?”
She met his gaze. The dejection lingering there scored him deeply. “His sister.”
“He sold you?”
He’d kill him. He’d find this Callum and fucking kill him.
Her laugh was a warbling, incongruous trill. “He tried. The merchandise was not cooperative. I went to Violet and she helped me escape. She brought me here.”
Edward wasn’t sure she was any safer here. Not with the lust howling through the desolate caverns of his soul every time he saw her. But he was glad she was here. And he would do his damndest to protect her. From anything.
She tipped her head and smiled at him. “Do you really think I could make a living at this?”
“Definitely.”
She sighed.
He nuzzled her hairline. “What?”
“I’ve seen the like. Artists begging for ha’pennies…”
“Oh no. No ha’pennies for you, my sweet. Your work is…” His heart stuttered. “What are you drawing now?” She’d given up on the bucolic scene and was sketching what appeared to be— Holy hell. It was. “Is that a cock?”
She giggled. “What do you think?”
“It looks like a cock. Kaitlin, I’m shocked.”
He was, but in a good way.
“Hmm. I’m sure you’re shocked. You’re the Dark Duke. You’ve probably seen it all.”
He had. Or very nearly.
The erect cock gained a torso, shoulders, a face. He chuckled. It was his face. “Shame on you, darling. I never beg.”
“You do so.” She added another character, a woman who looked suspiciously like her, disheveled and tousled. Her lips hovered just over that weeping member.
It was a drawing worthy of one of Lord Hedon’s books.
A prospect he’d thought of before, and discarded, resurfaced. Dare he?
He would love to turn her talent to darker purposes—to his darker purposes, although how he could accomplish this without
revealing his identity was a thorny issue. He would think on that later.
“Kaitlin?”
“Yes, Edward?”
“What would you say if I told you I was not joking? That you could make a lot of money very quickly by drawing pictures just like this?”
She stilled. “A lot of money?”
“A lot.”
“How much?”
“Seventy guineas per sketch.” More than he’d paid Mabry, but she was better.
She gasped. “Seventy?”
He nodded.
“Seventy is a year’s keep.”
He chortled. “If one lives modestly, perhaps.” There had been a day, not too long ago, when he’d spent seventy guineas a week on…companionship. It was a particular brand of companionship, but still.
He had little need for that now. Not with Kaitlin in his arms. His brash, wanton innocent.
“I can’t see how that is possible.”
“You know the book I gave you?”
She flushed. “Of course.”
“Lord Hedon is looking for a new illustrator.”
“What happened to the old one?”
“He was an idiot.”
“Oh?”
“Thrown from a carriage.”
“Oh my.”
“At any rate, I am sure Lord Hedon would love your work.”
“Really, Edward. How can you know that?”
How could he? How could he indeed? He kissed her brow. “Trust me. He would. Would you be interested in that kind of work?”
“For seventy guineas? How could I say no? Oh, I would be able to repay— Oh. Yes, Edward. Heavens yes.”
“Then shall I set an interview with Lord Hedon?”
“I shall do up some sketches straightaway. Shall I draw Asha’s story, or something else?
“Asha’s story?” He chuckled. “It is already illustrated.”
She snorted. “Yes, but as I was reading it, I realized there were so many places they should have added a plate. It was rather annoying.”
He could only imagine. “Clever girl. Yes. Draw those—but add some of your own creation too. If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” She disentangled herself and began hunting for her frock.