The Sheik and the Slave

"Of course they are, my love. They are readying to nourish our son," he told her softly.

She thrilled as she heard him say "our son."

He tongued one nipple first and then the other as his hands delved under her skirts to push them up.

"Hurry. I need you so badly," she moaned.

"Shhh, darling. I want to look at you."

He moved his hands along her silk-clad legs and rolled down the length of them. He marveled at the feminine garters covered with small pink flowers.

He moved one long finger deep inside her and found her wet and hot as she clung to him in a tight embrace. He removed his finger and licked it clean. He unbuttoned himself, but not before she stopped him.

"The babe, Mohammed. Will it hurt the babe?"

"No, my love. I promise you. It will not hurt the child."

She relaxed and opened her legs to him. The first thrust inside her hot, tight body made them both sigh at the contact.

"You are mine Katharine, mine," he whispered into her ear.

She wrapped her legs around him as he continued to thrust inside her again and again.

She cried out as he took her mouth roughly. His hands cupped her bottom and pulled her into him as he continued to rock into her tight core. Again and again, Mohammed slammed his cock deep into her, and she moaned hard as he took her. She began to cry as the climax shook her body and Mohammed spilled his cream deep inside her.

He moved onto his back, pulling her close to him. He kissed the top of her head as he did.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered.

"As soon as your father returns from London, I will speak to him," Mohammed said decisively.

Katharine nodded shyly.

"Yes. I won't be separated from you anymore. And I won't keep your child from you. Whatever happens, I'm ready for it."

Mohammed smiled.

"It will all work out,” he said. “You will see. This was meant to be."

***

Jamie Clifton had lost another large amount at the gambling tables.

He knew he had to quicken the marriage to Katharine because her dowry would help pay most of his gambling debts, with enough left over to buy that lovely stallion he had admired the other day. He threw his cards down on the table and stumbled outside.

What was he to do about that bastard in her belly, though? He could arrange some accident for the child once it was born. Babies die all the time, he thought.

He thought of the bitch lying with her legs splayed open as the dark Arab pumped away between them and he felt sick. What was England coming to, when their women would fuck anything that moved?

Yes, he would definitely have to arrange an "accident" for the little Arab bastard. Then perhaps he might sample the goods himself. He had never been overly fond of women, but he had tumbled a couple of whores. And for all that Katharine would be an arranged marriage, there was no denying that she was a beautiful woman.

He fondled his cock once and then pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked along the wharfs. He knew this was the lowest part of London, where the cheap whores with yellow teeth and lice-ridden bodies called out to him. He stumbled and knew he had drunk too much.

He didn't realize that he had fallen into the River Thames until he began to sink.

His frock coat tangled with his arms as he tried to swim. The huge amounts of alcohol he had consumed fogged his brain. He didn't realize what was happening as he gulped in large quantities of the icy water. It took a couple of minutes before he finally succumbed to the cold water.