Bedazzled (21 page)
“That your gaze burns me, my lord,” she dissembled.
He laughed, and once more kissed her mouth lightly. “If you but knew my thoughts, little virgin, you would burst into flame,” he told her. “I cannot ever remember desiring a woman as I desire you, my precious India.” He caressed her face with the back of his hand.
“I am not yet a woman, my lord,”
she half whispered back.
she half whispered back.
“We will shortly remedy that,” he told her, his kisses becoming more ardent as they moved over her face and down the graceful column of her throat, across her chest, and finally to her breasts.
His lips were warm, and seemed to burn her delicate skin wherever they touched. She was acutely aware of everything, her senses suddenly sharpened to every nuance of his passion, even of her own body. Her breasts seemed to be swollen. They almost hurt, and when his mouth closed over a nipple and suckled upon it, a small cry escaped her. “Ahhh, God!” She felt his tongue swirling about the nipple teasingly, and then his teeth gently, very gently, nipped at the sensitive tip. “Ohhhh!” His tongue swiftly laved over the nipple, soothing it, but he hadn’t really hurt her at all. When he lifted his dark head, she eagerly guided it to her other nipple so it, too, might know such pleasure.
Then she felt his other hand caressing her belly, moving in teasing little circles over the silky skin. She ached with both pleasure and anticipation for whatever was to come. The hand slipped lower to cover her Venus mound, and India felt her breath catch in her throat. Brushing his fingers over the smooth mound, he ran a single digit down the moist crease separating the fleshy folds. She couldn’t breathe, and then the finger pressed itself between the tempting furrow, touching her in a place she hadn’t even known existed. India gasped sharply, and the finger began to caress that place. Reaching out, she dug her fingers into his shoulder.
“This is your pleasure place,” he murmured, his finger rotating itself about the sensitive nub of flesh. “You can feel it, my precious, can’t you? The joy is beginning to stir within you, isn’t it?”
“Yes!”
Dear heaven, this was sweet. She would die with delight, she thought, pressing herself up to meet his hand. She felt as if she were going to burst there, and then indeed she did, the pleasure permeated her entire body like slow, warm wine, oozing through her veins until the delight was as suddenly gone as it had come.
“No!”
she protested.
Dear heaven, this was sweet. She would die with delight, she thought, pressing herself up to meet his hand. She felt as if she were going to burst there, and then indeed she did, the pleasure permeated her entire body like slow, warm wine, oozing through her veins until the delight was as suddenly gone as it had come.
“No!”
she protested.
“There is more,” he promised her. “This is just the beginning.” Then his finger pushed deeper, finding her passage, exploring her gently. He didn’t doubt her maiden state, but he could barely contain his delight at finding her virgin shield fully intact. She was very tight, but already wet, her young body eager for the consummation. He knew he could wait no longer to enjoy her. Withdrawing his hand from her Venus mound, he began to cover her fair body with his, kissing her deeply as he did, his hands lightly pinioning her.
She was completely cognizant of his actions, of the hard length that had been pressing against her, and was even now seeking to possess her. She trembled openly as he tenderly spread her open to his attentions, and he kissed her again. The look on his face was one she could not fathom. There was no lust, only gentleness.
“My lord?”
she whispered, confused, her eyes seeking an answer.
“My lord?”
she whispered, confused, her eyes seeking an answer.
The deep blue eyes looked down at her. “Little fool,” he murmured to her. “Have you not yet realized that I love you?” Then without another word he thrust deep inside her, piercing her innocence.
His declaration astounded her even as the sharpness of her defloration briefly pained her. Then, after a moment, he began to move upon her, and India cried out softly at the pleasure she was receiving. She could feel his length, and the breadth of him as he plumbed the secret depths of her. She welcomed him, shyly at first, then more boldly, her arms wrapping about him into an even closer embrace.
“Put your legs about me.” He ground the words out into her ear.
She obeyed the command, and then cried out as he plunged deeper into her softness. She had never imagined it would be like this. So wonderful! So intimate!
So indescribable!
She clung to him, her breath coming in hard bursts as he thrust to and fro within her body. Her nails began to claw at him. She couldn’t help it. There was a tension building and building within her that needed release. “Ohhhhh, God!” she wailed. “I can bear no more! Ohhh, God, don’t stop!” Then it was as if she was almost yanked from her body and flung among the stars. She soared, shuddering, as spasm after spasm wracked her, sending waves of heat and sensation slamming into her, leaving her gasping for breath.
So indescribable!
She clung to him, her breath coming in hard bursts as he thrust to and fro within her body. Her nails began to claw at him. She couldn’t help it. There was a tension building and building within her that needed release. “Ohhhhh, God!” she wailed. “I can bear no more! Ohhh, God, don’t stop!” Then it was as if she was almost yanked from her body and flung among the stars. She soared, shuddering, as spasm after spasm wracked her, sending waves of heat and sensation slamming into her, leaving her gasping for breath.
He felt the walls of her sheath contracting and convulsing around his throbbing manhood, and Caynan Reis was astounded. India had been a virgin, and yet her passions were even now bursting, and forcing from him a torrid tribute. With a groan of complete surrender, his love juices filled her, engulfing her secret garden.
I want sons from this woman
was his last conscious thought, and then he rolled away from her lest he crush her, though his arms were still tight about her.
I want sons from this woman
was his last conscious thought, and then he rolled away from her lest he crush her, though his arms were still tight about her.
He came to himself at the sound of her soft weeping. “India, what is it? Allah forgive me if I have hurt you! Tell me, my precious.” He leaned over her, kissing the tears upon her cheeks.
“I am so happy,” she sobbed. “Will it always be like this between us? Will you continue to desire me, or have I lost my allure now that I am no longer a virgin?” She looked up at him, so vulnerable that it almost broke his heart.
“I love you,” he told her once again. “Did you think I but said the words to ease your conscience, India, before I took you? I never thought that I should love a woman, but I love you. I will always desire you, little fool.
Always!
I shall make you my wife as quickly as I can do so. You will be the dey’s first wife.”
Always!
I shall make you my wife as quickly as I can do so. You will be the dey’s first wife.”
“First wife?
” She sat up now.
” She sat up now.
“I am allowed four,” he teased her.
“And will you take four?” she demanded, her look angry.
“I think you will be more than enough wife for me, my precious,” he laughed. “Allah, I am beginning to desire you again! I would not believe it possible, but I am!”
“And your harem, my lord?”
she persisted.
she persisted.
“The dey of El Sinut would be made to look a fool, ruled by his wife, if he did not maintain a harem,” he told her. “That is not a matter for us to discuss, India. Now, kiss me sweetly on the lips.”
“Will you make love to your harem women?”
He pulled her down beneath him and kissed her hard. “It would seem I will have to, having such a disobedient favorite,” he said to her, half laughing. “Am I to deny myself the company of women when you ripen with my children or your link with the moon is broken?”
“Are you so lustful then?” she asked him.
“Aye,” he grinned mischievously at her, “I am. Now, fetch the love cloths, for my hunger for you grows as each minute passes.”
She pouted, but then slipped from their bed to fetch the basin, and the soft cotton cloths. First. however, she washed herself, startled a moment by the blood smeared upon her thighs, realizing it was the proof of her lost virtue. Then she brought the basin, with its fresh water, and clean cloths to him.
“It is your duty to bathe my member,” he told her wickedly.
India eyed his manhood suspiciously. She had, of course, washed him in the baths, but now . . . now it looked somewhat more lethal to her. Soaking the cloth, she wrung it out, and gingerly began her task. When she had finished, and removed the basin and cloths, he called her back to his bed again.
“I want you to caress my love lance,” he told her. “Touch it, India. Hold it in your hands. It will not harm you.”
She sat facing him, curious to learn more about this part of him that had given her such incredible pleasure. Cautiously she touched his manhood with her fingertips. It was warm, and stirred slightly beneath her touch. She drew her hand back nervously, then gamely reached out again, taking his member into her hand, her fingers closing about him gently. “It seems alive,” she said. “I can feel it throbbing.” She loosed him, and stroked his manhood with surer fingers now, as if she were petting a favorite pet. To her surprise it began to grow beneath her very eyes, thickening and lengthening, its ruby head sliding from its velvet sleeve. “Ohhh,” India breathed softly.
“You see the power you hold over me, my precious,” he told her. “I think of you and am excited. You touch me, and I am aroused.” Reaching out, he began to caress her breasts again.
“I can encourage your appetites as you do mine,” she said, comprehending what he was trying to teach and show her.
He drew her down into his arms, kissing her. “Aye, India. You understand perfectly.”
“Make love to me, my lord,” she said softly, “and instruct me on how I may make love to you.”
“That I will do another time. Tonight is for your delight, my love. For I gain pleasure knowing I have pleasured you.” Then his lips took possession of hers once more, and it was heaven, India thought, quickly lost again in the fiery passion he engendered within her, and heedless of the world around her.
Azura, however, had noted there was no call from the dey this night for one of the harem women. When the midnight hour had come, she hurried to the apartment of the chief eunuch, saying as she entered, “He has not sent for a woman, Baba Hassan. Never in all the years he has been dey has a night passed when he didn’t desire female company.”
“Then the answer must surely be that our reluctant protégé has finally succumbed to our master,” the chief eunuch answered the mistress of the harem. “Have you not noticed in the past few weeks the glances he sends her way when she is not looking at him? His patience has been utterly astounding for a mortal man.” Baba Hassan arose from his pillows. “Come, Azura. Let us go and see what has happened between them.”
“We cannot! It would be a terrible intrusion on the dey’s privacy,” she answered her companion.
Baba Hassan chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling almost closed with his humor. “Azura, he will never know we have spied on him.” He took up a small oil lamp. “Follow me, lady.” Walking across the chamber, the chief eunuch reached out to press his hand against the tile border just above his head. Almost immediately a hidden door swung open, revealing a narrow passage. Baba Hassan stepped through the door, followed quickly by Azura. The door swung shut behind them. “Come along,” he whispered, and, flabbergasted, she followed behind.
The passage moved this way and that. The air was fetid, but breathable. How was it, Azura wondered, in all the years she had lived in this place, that she had never before known of this secret passage? Several times they came to crossroads, and the eunuch would turn right or left and once he went straight forward, the flame from his little lamp flickering skittishly upon the walls enclosing them. She was beginning to be uncomfortable in this small space. “Are we almost there, Baba Hassan?” she asked him, and, to her surprise, he stopped suddenly. She watched, as, raising the lamp up, he found a small handle, and, silently rotating it, revealed a tiny opening in the wall of the passage before which they now stood.
Baba Hassan turned his head, and said, “Look, Azura, and tell me what you see.”
The mistress of the harem peered through the opening. To her astonishment she saw the dey’s bedchamber before her. Her eyes went immediately to the bed, and then she smiled. India was in Caynan Reis’s arms, and the dey was making very passionate love to her. And, most important of all in Azura’s eyes, India was obviously enjoying her master’s attentions. She turned away from her view, saying to Baba Hassan, “It is as you suspected.”
The eunuch looked briefly into the room, and then, closing the peephole, led his companion back through the hidden passage to his own apartment again. The two conspirators settled themselves, and the chief eunuch himself brewed the coffee that they shortly drank. As they sat together he said to Azura, “Now we must hope that she has pleased him enough that he will not quickly be bored with her. She must have his child.” He looked to the woman seated opposite him. “She has not been given the special sherbet, has she?”
“There was no need for it, as she would not accept his attentions until now,” Azura replied. “Unless he orders me to give it to her, I shall certainly not do so.” She smiled with her own memories. “He was being so gentle with her, Baba Hassan.”
“He is in love with her,” the chief eunuch responded dryly.
“Not lust?” Azura replied, surprised.
“No, love,” Baba Hassan said. “He is behaving with her the way our late master behaved with you, lady. The girl is fortunate.”
“Now let us pray to Allah, the most compassionate, that we have enough time before we are approached by the janissaries,” Azura worried. “His heart must be so fully engaged with India that he will act in a wise and prudent manner. Oh, why cannot men be peaceful, Baba Hassan? Why must they always war and plot against one another?”
“It is their nature, lady,” the chief eunuch answered her. Then he chuckled almost to himself. “Tomorrow, however, you will find a war brewing in the harem when the other women learn that India has now become a woman, and possibly will be our master’s favorite.”
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