Katharine was shocked at his bold touch.
“Stop! Don’t touch me!” she said as she jerked away from him.
“Lady, you cannot change what will occur. You will satisfy my needs and join my harem. I will enjoy your body very much,” he said, smiling.
“You deceive yourself. The day after I become your whore, I will either kill myself or find a way to escape you. Test me if you dare,” she said, speaking to him boldly; it thrilled him beyond compare. She wasn’t afraid of him and she was majestic.
He knew he had to have her, but did not want to break her spirit in a rape. She would hate him afterwards, and that he would not allow.
He picked her up lightly and took her to the bed. He knelt between her slim thighs and moved the fabric up to her waist. Her pussy glistened in the light and he knew she wanted him. It was a natural act for a man and woman to come together. Men had needs and women serviced them. It was a simple thing, and the harem helped ensure that he did not put undue pressure on his wife. The harem serviced his needs and the numerous women kept him satisfied.
“Do you want to work in the kitchens then? Or perhaps you want to become chief bather? This would be important work, helping the harem women bathe and preparing them for me,” he taunted her. As he spoke, his fingers moved into her tight, slick pussy and she arched into him. She couldn’t help herself. Her head was swimming.
She was spinning out of control and the emotions were tumbling onto her. No one had ever touched her like this and she was on fire, with pinpricks hitting behind her eyes. She knew it would be easy to give into him, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t give into him or show any weakness.
“Send me to the harem. I’d rather be a slave than your whore,” she told him coldly and breathlessly, trying to stem the emotions she felt.
Mohammed went still and his body tensed. She is a little falcon with talons and an iron will, he thought.
“So be it,” he said. He looked down at her and then moved away from her. He clapped his hands twice.
Two eunuchs appeared and bowed slightly to Mohammed. “Send the princess here to the harem. She is to be the new bather. Tell this to Bashasha.”
Mohammed grimaced as he watched her leave his bed, still a virgin.
“Send Farasha to me,” he said as they left with Katharine.
Katharine shivered as she walked down the corridors with the eunuchs. She had been close to giving in to the sheik. She had wanted him and though she was a lady and an Englishwoman, she had been willing to forget it all. I must be mad, she thought. In a foreign land, a prisoner and a slave, and she had been ready to give in at the first moment alone with him. I must remember who I am and never give in to him, she thought. I must find a way to get back home.
***
Alone, Mohammed grinded his teeth. He had learned the foreign English tongue for business and didn’t enjoy it. It was a foreign, harsh tongue that stuck in the mouth and stayed there like sour dates. Unlike Arabic, his beautiful, lyrical mother’s tongue, English was a harsh language.
But that was before he had met the princess, the beauty who spoke English and communicated through it. He wanted her. His cock was still stretched and lengthened, ready for the tight passage that she had been ready to give him. She was a willful woman, used to men fawning around her, and probably held the upper hand with most men. It would not be so with him. Let her stew in the harem as a bather, he thought. She would be his soon enough.
Farasha sauntered into the room, stripping away her clothes as she walked. She was slender with small breasts and hips, long black hair and a red mouth. She had almost black nipples on her breasts and she loved to bend over and take his cock up the ass.
“My lord,” Farasha said in Arabic as she leaned over the bed and beckoned him.
His cock plunged into the tight asshole as Farasha groaned and thrust her hips back to him.
“Harder, my lord. Harder, please,” she murmured lightly in Arabic as not to offend him. Even in the midst of sex, the harem women were appropriate in word and action unless otherwise asked. Always respectful, they wanted only to serve the sheik.
Just as Farasha’s small asshole tightened around his cock, he thought suddenly of a small, alabaster ass with long legs and blonde hair falling down the back. He would wrap the blonde hair around his hand as he jerked her head up. Her pussy would drip and cling tightly to his cock. He groaned as he spilled his cream inside the Arabian girl’s ass thinking of the English girl. Soon, he would have the proud English girl. Soon.
Chapter 2
Katharine loathed the harem. She hated the Arabian land and its forsaken sand. She despised the food that consisted largely of lamb and chicken and a thick milky substance they enjoyed as well as rice and wheat. The harsh Arabic language was guttural and though she began to pick up several words and phrases, she did not want the harem women to know this. Her ability to quickly grasp languages came to her aid, but she did not enjoy learning the language. She contemplated her escape daily.
Most of all, she hated him. She detested his very existence and tried to stay away from him and never be in his presence. Soon, a month passed since she had first entered the palace.
She learned her job in the harem with the help of Bashasha, who was kind to her. She bathed, massaged, and pampered the women of the harem and thought of little but her escape. Most of the other women suffered under Yasmeen’s hateful glare and abuse, but Kat escaped such treatment. It was common knowledge that she did not share the sheik’s bed, so she was not a threat to Yasmeen.
The women viewed her as a foreigner and none associated with her. She had denied an easy life for the sake of a servant’s life and none could understand her. She dreamed of England with its green hills, wintry nights, and her father’s love. She missed her friends and her family, and wondered if she would see any of them again.
She bathed and massaged Gameela, who was one of the sheik’s favorites. She was a slender woman with small breasts and hips; she loved to pleasure him with her mouth and swallow his essence. She spoke a broken English that she had learned from the sheik himself. It was rumored that she might be the second wife to the sheik, but Bashasha dismissed this as mere gossip.
“You are silly woman,” Gameela spoke to Katharine.