Love Storm (28 page)

Zena played dreamily with the large leather testicles, now running wet with her love fluid. The leather felt warm and slippery and soft as she caressed the object that was holding her in thrall. Abdul turned toward her, reached out, and ground the dildo up with a fierce thrust. The world exploded in a screaming orgasm, and Zena panted in short gasps as the hashish maintained the climax for second after second.

"Ah, the first of many this night," Ibrahim Bey said. "Once more, Abdul, to show her what lies in store," and Abdul reached over to thrust the point home again. Zena shivered uncontrollably as another orgasm stretched through her body, lasting and lasting, curling through her pulsing vagina.

"Give her a few minutes to rest, and you, Captain, will bring her up once again. As you can see, it takes but the merest touch."

The bidding was rapid and fierce.

Abdul sullenly dropped out at fifty horses and sixty-five thousand rubles.

The object of this auction was unresisting and submissive, unaware that the very vital question of her future was at stake.

"I've only twenty horses with me at present. I can pay you the money immediately and will give you written guarantee of the other thirty horses. I'll telegraph tomorrow and have them sent down from the Kuzan stud."

Ibrahim Bey, ever prudent, said, "In what condition will I receive these horses? The Kuzan stud is thousands of miles away. It could be a bad bargain."

"Rest assured, Ibrahim Bey, they'll arrive in perfect condition. I've a railroad car that stables twenty horses. Each horse travels with his own groom. In two trips you'll have your horses. A month, no more, will complete the transfer. Now, if you'd be so kind as to supply me with a cloak for the female, I'll take my purchase and be off."

"Very good, my prince, and you will put in a gracious word for my tribe if the occasion arises."

"That I shall."

Alex wrapped the cape around the drugged woman and lifted her effortlessly into his arms, inclined his head in departure, nodded to the assembled guests, and strode out into the night. Torches burned at the entrance of the tent where his trackers had been left waiting. As he carried Zena out to the waiting horses, Ivan gasped in agitation. "Mistress Zena!"

Alex swung up into the saddle and settled Zena before him.

The sentries at the entrance to the tent whispered, "Mistress Zena?"

Ivan and the trackers hauled themselves into the saddle.

The guards inside the entrance to the tent whispered, "Mistress Zena!"

The six horses wheeled and galloped through the village of tents.

The whisper passed like a whirlwind from servant to servant inside the main chamber of the tent.

"Mistress Zena?" Ibrahim Bey cried and then threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "By all that's holy, Abdul," he smiled benignly. "Mistress Zena! She was no stranger to him, then. That's old Iskender-Khan's granddaughter everyone's looking for, and if I don't miss my guess, young Prince Alexander's paramour." He chuckled irrepressibly. "By the beard of Allah, Abdul, we could have beggared the man!"

As they rode out into the desert, Alex issued a curt command to his cohorts. "Keep your distance, no closer than five hundred yards."

Le coït de cheval
was going to serve him this night. Lifting the warm, soft woman in his arms, he pushed her cape aside and turned her toward him. She automatically wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and began pressing her soft breasts into the medals and buttons on his tunic.

"Soon, love, soon." Unbuttoning his riding pants, Alex pulled out his engorged penis, raised Zena slightly, and impaled her on his erect stiffness. Wrapping Zena's legs around his waist, he gave a gentle nudge to Pasha, and the black stallion broke into a slow gallop.

Rocked by the gentle motion of the horse, Zena came to orgasm after orgasm, clinging to Alex and sobbing with pleasure. Alex restrained himself, wanting to offer her as complete satisfaction as her burning, passionate body demanded. Soon she began to quiet, the shudders of ecstasy less pronounced, her agitated movements stilled. Kicking Pasha into a mad gallop Alex had his way with Zena, and when morning came, he carried a much subdued, peacefully sleeping woman in his arms.

When Zena awoke, she found herself lying on a padded carriage seat. Glancing around in fright, the terror died in her eyes as she saw Alex lounging on the opposite seat.

"You finally woke up,
dushka"
he said as he leaned across the aisle and gathered her into his arms.

Zena burst into tears as all the horror, fear, and humiliation of the past week overwhelmed her. Rocking her gently, Alex patted her soothingly. "It's all over, my sweet. That terrible nightmare is past. You're safe with me." He kissed her wet cheeks and then softly caressed her lips. "Bobby and I have missed you damnably," he breathed. "Don't run away again. The world is too dangerous for innocents like you."

Zena just sobbed harder, clinging to the man she loved, lying heavily against him in a kind of disbelieving dream, afraid it might end and she'd be back with the bandits. She wanted this moment to last forever, just feeling his arms around her while she clung to him, breathing in his familiar, lovely masculine scent. Alex reached up and pulled one of her hands from around his neck, turned the palm to his lips, and ran his mouth over the soft surface. Still grasping her hand, he looked at Zena over her fingertips.

"Why didn't you tell me about the child?" Alex asked softly.

"I thought
...
I thought you wouldn't care."

"Of course,
I
care," Alex remonstrated gently. Zena's

eyes brightened with hope. Maybe he did love her after all. "As soon as we get back, I'll buy you a house in St. Petersburg or Moscow." He paused. "Why not in both cities? Ask for whatever you want, child, it's yours."

Renewed tears streamed slowly down Zena's pale cheeks.

"Did I say something wrong?" Alex inquired, genuinely perplexed at the fresh outpouring of tears. He had offered what he thought was a generous settlement. Women could be strangely puzzling, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that he had just made some mistake. No doubt her pregnancy was contributing to these peculiar, changeable exhibitions of emotion. Wasn't erratic behavior, as well as bizarre food tastes, a characteristic of
enceinte
females?

Zena sighed softly, wiping away the wet paths on her cheeks. "No, Sasha," she said sadly, "you didn't say anything wrong."

Relieved, Alex hugged her tenderly. "Don't cry anymore,
dushka.
I'll take care of you and the baby."

There was no mention of marriage. It hadn't even entered his mind.

She loved him with all her heart, and she overlooked the omission. Maybe someday her pride would return and she could reject the warmth of his arms, the tender passion he offered her. But now, right now, all she wanted was to be with him on any terms at all. It was as if she had been dead and now her lifeblood came flooding back.

"We'll have a nursery decorated at the
dacha,
too," he said, presuming all women relished the decorating and redecorating of rooms. He was seeking to offer suggestions Zena would like, trying in a vague, imperfect way to indulge her wishes. His masculine expertise in matters of feminine pleasures outside the bedroom was rudimentary. He wanted to please and gladden her. He wanted her happy because he was happy. Alex didn't realize (his notion of the concepts of love and marriage inchoate) that what Zena wanted, money couldn't buy.

They traveled back to Vladikavkaz by carriage. Alex was solicitous and charming, taking great care to avoid topics either controversial or melancholy. The reunion with Bobby and the nursemaids was joyful, and soon they all boarded Alex's private car to make the trip to Kislovodsk. Ivan stayed behind a few days to organize the first shipment of horses to Ibrahim Bey.

Alex had insisted they proceed to Kislovodsk, one of the four towns built at Besh-Tau, where the famous Caucasian health springs were. His family had a villa there, and he wanted Zena to recuperate fully from her ordeal before continuing the journey north.

Kislovodsk, the most beautiful of the four towns built in the neighborhood of Besh-Tau, was far superior to the most worldly European spa in luxury and magnificence. Villas and palaces formed a municipality that boasted some of the finest gardens in the East. The whole town was a unique delight of nature created by the nobility and bankers of St. Petersburg for their leisure pleasure.

It was a fairy-tale city: tropical plants and forests, rushing mountain torrents, craggy cliffs, and picturesque people. There was never such a mixture in the world between the romance of the East and the refined culture of the West as evidenced in the luxurious spa of Besh-Tau.

Alex, Zena, Bobby, and the servants settled into the Kuzan villa that evening. The next two weeks were nonpareil. Alex pampered Zena extravagantly, exerting himself in unprecedented style to divert and amuse her as she regained her strength after the fearful trek over the mountains.

He personally served her breakfast and lunch, insisting she stay in bed to rest until noon. In the afternoon they rode abroad or took the mineral water at one of the baths or just lay on the veranda in the sun. Bobby gamboled in the extensive park surrounding the villa and thrived in the warm, salubrious climate. All traces of chest congestion that had plagued him disappeared.

It would have been the most absurd folly to despise the luxury, the gentle tenderness, the solicitous concern Alex showered on Zena, and she derived comfort from Alex's care and basked in the delicious gratification of her senses. He soothed and flattered her emotionally until she felt like a purring cat whose fur had been stroked the right way. Alex had always been disposed to render her a helpless addict to his enchanting sensuality. Their pleasures in bed reached hitherto unknown heights.

One evening Zena and Alex lay in each other's arms sated from lovemaking; gentle spring breezes wafted through the open doors of the veranda, and a portion of the dark, twinkling sky was visible through the door. After several hours of unrestrained and uncommon lovemaking, Zena was disturbed again with one of her awkward flutters. Having been bred to conform to society's etiquette of decorum, yet witness to the withering humiliation of her aunt's contemptuous, vile allegations that all Circassian women were sluts, she pondered unsurely over Alex's reaction to her venturesome audacity in the rapturous throes of passion. She had never discussed the propriety of eager, unconstrained activity in the bedchamber. Would he truly classify her as a harlot for her perhaps overzealous ardor? Did he think less of her for her enthusiasm?

With a certain degree of faint heart she decided to risk finding out. "Sasha?" she murmured, lying with her head on his chest.

"Ummm?" Alex responded languidly as he rested comfortably in the huge bed, one arm holding Zena, the other propped behind his head.

"Do you find me too aggressive sometimes?" she asked bashfully.

"What do you mean?" he placidly replied.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe too crude or vulgar or presumptuous in bed."

Alex smiled lazily in the darkened room. "Still worried about ladylike behavior, child? Just so long as you don't throw up on me, that's all I ask. I have never been accused of squeamishness, but at that vulgarity I draw the line. It quite cools my ardor. Satisfied,
ma petite?"
he laughed. "Let me assure you," he continued seriously, "the notion that well-bred ladies don't debase themselves by succumbing to animal passion is the invention of glacial, unresponsive prigs. It's all the most deceptive humbug, and I speak from experience with a great variety of aristocratic, well-bred ladies.

"Ouch!" Alex exclaimed as Zena's teeth bit into the flesh of his arm. "What the hell was that for?"

"That
was for the
great variety
of aristocratic ladies."

"Tiens!
Darling, you can't suppose you were the first," he said with brutal candor. Then his eyes twinkled. "If you're disposed to nibble, though, love," Alex teased mockingly, "my aristocratic ladies preferred other areas on which to nibble. Should I show you, child?" At which point, he expeditiously warded off a violent blow directed toward his face, and a tussle ensued, punctuated with much laughter and chuckles of delight.

Having effortlessly pinned Zena to the bed, after what he considered a reasonable indulgence of her desire to pummel him, he now rode above her, a wicked smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You lose, pet. Now you must pay."

"No!" Zena cried gaily, struggling to gain her freedom.