Bedazzled (25 page)
Caynan Reis had entered his wife’s bedchamber quietly, and now, hearing the sound of her weeping, he hurried to her side. “What is it, my precious?” he asked, joining her upon her bed, and gathering her into his arms. “What has made you sad?”
“I . . .I m-miss m-my family!” India wailed.
“Ahhh,” he said, understanding her complaint. He held her close, and smoothed her curls soothingly.
“T-they don’t know wh-where I am!”
“Give me a child so no one can steal you away from me, my precious India, and I promise you that you may write to your mother,” the dey told her. “I have told you that I love you, and it is the truth. I could not bear it if some misguided parent took you from me.”
“I . . . I love you, too!” India told him. “But I want my family to know of, and share in our happiness, my lord Caynan.”
“In time,” he vowed to her, and then he was kissing her passionately. “You are mine, my beloved, and I shall allow no one to take you back!”
Almost immediately she was swept away by his hungry devotion. All thoughts of her past life disappeared as his burning desire overwhelmed her. She loved, and was loved in return. There could be nothing more wonderful than that! “Ohhh, my lord,” she murmured against his lips, “I do adore you!” Her hand caressed his shoulder gently. “I am content to be with you. Let me show you what the harem women taught me this afternoon when I visited them. Tell me if it pleases you.”
To his great surprise she slipped from his embrace, and rolled him onto his back. Then she straddled him, and began letting her hands roam across his smooth chest. Shy at first, she grew bolder, taking his nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and rubbing them teasingly. He was about to reach up and take her tempting little breasts in his own hands when she leaned forward, and began kissing his chest, then licked at it seductively with her tongue. Slowly, carefully she moved down his torso, her dark curls brushing his smooth skin seductively. He was scarcely breathing for fear of deferring her progress, wondering how far she would go, and then her hand closed about his manhood.
Her fingers tightened about him briefly while her other hand brushed over his thighs, pushing between them to cup his jewels in the warmth of her palm. India bent lower, astounded by her own daring, but unable to cease her erotic actions. It had all sounded so wicked when the harem ladies elucidated upon it, but now, caught in the throes of her own rising desire, she knew she must continue onward. She squeezed him gently once again. He grew thicker and longer beneath her sensorial ministrations. Her head dropped, and she kissed the ruby-red tip of his manhood, then licked all around it.
He shuddered with the voluptuousness of her behavior, gasping softly as she enveloped him within her mouth and began to suck upon his throbbing member. Tongue and teeth teased at him, causing his whole body to quiver with excitement. Then a single finger reached beneath his pouch, pressing into a spot so sensitive that his whole frame arced with pleasure, and he groaned with sheer delight. “Ohhh, sweet witch, they have taught you well!
Ahhhhhh!
Enough!
Enough!”
Ahhhhhh!
Enough!
Enough!”
India released him, and looked sloe-eyed upon Caynan Reis. “I do not please you?” she asked innocently.
“You please me, my precious, and you kill me, too, with your skill.” He pulled her forward, and, lifting her, said, “Come now and mount me, my beloved. I would encase my weapon within your pleasure sheath.”
Now it was India who gasped as she felt him sliding into her eager body. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and instinctively she rode him until his lusts burst within her and she fell forward upon his chest, whimpering with her own pleasure. He maintained the union, gently rolling her onto her back so that it was he who was now the dominant one. His kisses covered her face, and India sighed deeply as she slowly, and most reluctantly, returned to earth.
“I shall reward the ladies who encouraged and developed your skills,” he told her, smiling into her eyes.
Now India blushed, realizing what she had done. “I was bold,” she said softly, touching his face with her hand.
“Very bold,” he agreed affably. “I hope you will continue in your daring, India. I gained great pleasure from it.” He slowly kissed her, thinking as he did that she had the most kissable mouth he had ever known. Nibbling upon her lower lip he told her so.
“I like kissing you,” she admitted.
“Are my kisses sweeter than your English milord?” he demanded.
“Aye,” she told him, realizing as she did that it was the truth. “I did not kiss him a great deal,” she admitted candidly, “but I do not believe he had your skill, my lord Caynan.”
“Perhaps I shall ransom him,” the dey said.
“It would be kind,” India agreed. “If he has survived these past months in the galleys, surely that is enough punishment for his rudeness toward you, my lord. His father is old, and sickly, and he is his mother’s only child.”
“Did you ever meet his parents?” the dey asked her.
India shook her head. “His father remained at his home in the country. He has not left it, I am told, since his elder son killed Lord Jeffers and then fled the country. As for his mother, even poor Adrian admitted the woman was little better than a bawd. He avoided her as much as he could. As I am certain she would have wanted her son’s marriage to me to take place, she wisely avoided both my family and me. My parents were taking me back to Scotland to get me away from Adrian when I eloped.”
He nuzzled her neck, his kisses sending shivers down her spine. “Did you really intend to wed him, or were you having second thoughts?” he gently pressured India.
It was so hard to think when his body pressed hers so closely and his lips did such delicious things to her senses. “I didn’t like running away,” she admitted. “It seemed so precipitous, but Papa was so obdurate in his opposition to Adrian. Now, I think, that might have had more to do with encouraging my hasty actions than any love I felt for Adrian. I realized as we traveled that while the adventure was exciting, perhaps we were being dishonest. I should have not allowed Adrian to push me to such an abrupt act. I have only hurt those I love best,” India concluded.
“But had you not run away, I should not have made you mine,” he murmured softly, his tongue pushing into her ear to tease it.
“No,” she whispered. “Ahhhh, my lord, you are growing hard inside me!” She trembled against him. “How can this be?”
“Be quiet, little fool, and let me love you,” he growled at her. “You arouse me as no female ever has.” He began to move upon her.
Oh, God! This love was so powerful a thing, India thought, as she felt his length begin to slowly piston her afresh. Her eyes closed once more, and her breathing became shallow as he pleasured her a second time. She could actually feel him within her. Hard, and throbbing with heat. If she had only known, India considered muzzily, she never should have resisted him for so long. She felt so safe in his arms. She trusted him entirely, although she didn’t understand why. She soared with the waves of hot delight beginning to wash over her as he moved within her fevered body.
“I love you,” he whispered into her ear. “You are my precious one; my adorable and adored wife, India. I worship you with my body.”
“I love you, my lord Caynan,” she murmured back. “I have never known such happiness as I know now in your arms. Give me your son, my dearest lord.
Give me your son!”
Give me your son!”
Their deep passion finally overcame them as they fell from the peak together. They tumbled into sleep, limbs tangled, breathing even, she curled against him, his arm protectively over her in a sweetly possessive gesture; and they slept until almost dawn when the dey awoke.
He looked at the girl lying against his chest.
Give me your son,
she had cried out to him in her ardor. Allah, he had emptied himself twice that night into the recesses of her secret garden. He very much wanted to grant her request of him. For the first time in his life he knew he did indeed want children. He had not wanted them with other women, and none of his harem women had ever made such a demand of him. He sighed.
Give me your son,
she had cried out to him in her ardor. Allah, he had emptied himself twice that night into the recesses of her secret garden. He very much wanted to grant her request of him. For the first time in his life he knew he did indeed want children. He had not wanted them with other women, and none of his harem women had ever made such a demand of him. He sighed.
If this had been England he would have offered properly for Lady India Lindley and not rested until she was his wife. Their first son would have been a future earl of Oxton. But this was not England; this was El Sinut, and his first son would be in constant danger from outside forces because his father was the dey. Still, if he could get the sultan to grant him his office in perpetuity, the child would be his heir. He must do the sultan some great service while the boy was yet young, or yet unborn. The valideh was known to dote on her lad and would be generous, Caynan Reis had not a doubt.
It was not such an unusual request. Deyships had been created in the past that continued forever, provided the family was loyal. He smiled in the dusk of predawn. He did not even know if his efforts had made his young wife fruitful. He must continue to labor until she showed the signs of being with child. It was not a difficult assignment.
Caynan Reis suddenly realized he was the happiest of men. A month passed, and then two. Aruj Agha had left the morning following the dey’s marriage for another voyage. Now he had returned, and would be in port for some weeks seeing to much-needed repairs on his vessel. His English navigator, Osman, would be working with a crew made up of both Europeans and citizens of El Sinut on his former vessel, teaching the Arabs how to sail and man such a complicated ship. They went no farther than the outer harbor for the present as the Europeans were in a distinct minority aboard the
Royal Charles,
now renamed, the
Sultan Murat.
Royal Charles,
now renamed, the
Sultan Murat.
“I have never known you to be so content,” the janissary captain teased his friend one day as they shared Turkish coffee and the water pipe. “I would not have thought Caynan Reis vulnerable to love.”
“All men are susceptible to love,” the dey told him with an easy laugh. “Even Aruj Agha. One day you will find the right woman, my friend.”
“Once there was a woman I loved,” came the surprising admission, “but it was not to be. Besides, in my position, a wife is a liability. In earlier times, in the days of Sultan Selim I and his son, Suleiman, janissaries were not allowed to wed. It was better that way, I think. A man who worries about his wife and offspring is too cautious in battle. Caution does not win victories. Wars are won by those who are unafraid of what they might lose. Those who do not fear death. A man with a wife worries as to her fate if he dies. I am better without a mate.”
“Do you not want sons?” the dey asked him.
“I’m certain I’ve fathered a few in my time, although I cannot be really certain,” Aruj Agha said genially.
The chief eunuch entered the chamber, bowing to his master. “There is a visitor from Istanbul to see you, my lord,” he said.
“Can it not wait until the general audience tomorrow, Baba Hassan?” Caynan Reis asked.
“I fear not, my lord,” the chief eunuch replied.
“I will leave you, my friend,” Aruj Agha said.
“Nay,” Caynan Reis told him. “You are the captain of the janissaries here in El Sinut. A visitor from Istanbul who would speak privily with me should be heard by you as well. I trust few men as I trust you. Show the man in, Baba Hassan. I will receive him now.”
The eunuch bowed, his face offering no emotion. A moment later, he returned with a tall, obviously battled-hardened man with the enormous mustachios of a traditional janissary, who made immediate and respectful obeisance to the dey.
Caynan Reis acknowledged the gesture, and said, “Speak.”
“My lord, you have a guest. What I have to say is for your ears alone,” his visitor said.
“This is Aruj Agha, captain of the janissaries here. Whatever you have to say to me can be said before him,” the dey replied.
“You support the janissaries then, my lord?” came the question.
“I support
all
who wish our lord, Sultan Murat, may he live a thousand years, well, and serve to keep his peace,” was the clever reply.
all
who wish our lord, Sultan Murat, may he live a thousand years, well, and serve to keep his peace,” was the clever reply.
His visitor smiled. “I bring you greetings, my lord dey, from the court of the janissaries. I am Hussein Aga of the corps. The matter I have come to discuss is a delicate one. Do I have your word you will not repeat to any what is spoken here this day?”
Caynan Reis nodded. “Speak,” he said.
“My lord, the sultan is young. A mere boy who will not rule for himself for several years to come. We are governed by a woman, the valideh. Such a thing is not to be tolerated. Her influence must be purged from the palace, from the empire.”
“And how is this to be done?” the dey asked dryly. “Will you murder this woman, and then rule for the sultan in her place?”
“It is more complex than that, my lord. Sultan Murat loves his mother well. He cannot really be separated from her. It is better that he not rule any longer, but rather be disposed of with his parent.”
The dey stroked his chin thoughtfully. “And who would you place upon the throne of the Ottoman, Hussein Aga? One of the poor incompetent elderly princes who has been housed a lifetime in the Cage? The advantage of this sultan is that he has not been in the Cage long enough to be spoiled, or go mad. Who will you put in his stead?”
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