Read All the Sweet Tomorrows Online
Authors: Bertrice Small
My God, Skye thought, I am naught to him except a possession! He feels nothing for me but the need to own me, to sate his bodily lusts.
Kedar returned to a closer exploration of her body, moving his hand downward to rub across her fluttering belly. His touch was like fire against her skin, stroking seductively, sending tiny darts of fear through her. She wondered if Osman had known the kind of man his nephew really was when he had turned her over to Kedar. This was not a man to be satisfied with the mere taking of her body. He wanted far more than that. He wanted
her
. He wanted her soul and her mind as well as her body. Could she
resist him? Already her treacherous body was beginning to stir under his touch.
His fingers moved downward again, this time coming to rest atop her cleft. Gently he moved his hand back and forth, touching her ever so lightly but insistently. She couldn’t let him do this to her, she thought frantically, but her legs seemed made of jelly; and then he demanded, “Tell me about the first time, Muna? Was he gentle? Did you like it?”
“My lord …” she stuttered her shyness at such an intimate question, and then she almost wept to remember Niall, to remember how it had been with him that first time.
“Tell me!”
he murmured against her ear, his tongue licking it softly, his fingers slipping deeper into her cleft to coax the honey down from the hidden recesses of her fevered body.
“H-he was gentle,” she whispered, “and yes, I liked it.”
“Was he a good lover, my fair Muna?”
“My lord, I was a maid when I went to my husband. I have known but one man in my lifetime. How can I know the answer to such a question?” Her answer was certainly in keeping with the story Osman had concocted about her, and she must remember that story else Niall be lost.
Kedar smiled, satisfied. It was what he had wanted to hear, as it meant that she had not played the wanton as so many of these married European women did. He was glad that her husband had been a kind and gentle lover, her only lover. It meant that she was not afraid of the act, and that was good. No matter if her husband had been a proficient lover, he, Kedar, was a better one. By dawn the beautiful Muna would have a strong comparison, and he knew that her late lord would suffer by that comparison.
She was almost fainting against his strong arm, and so he lifted her up into his embrace. Walking to the velvet-draped couch in the alcove, he carefully placed her upon it. Her blue-green eyes heavy, she watched as he swiftly removed his white robe. Through thick lashes she peeped at him, quickly assessing his assets as he had assessed hers. He stood probably no more than three inches taller than she did, but he was powerfully built with a barrel chest, narrow waist, and sturdy legs. His body was pale and totally devoid of hair. His manhood, however, was totally out of proportion for a man under six feet. In its already half-roused state it was quite long, and she noted with trepidation that it was thick. The circumcised ruby knob of it reminded her of the head of a battering ram.
He caught her look of fear, and coming down beside her upon the couch, he murmured again in her ear, “Do not fear, Muna.
Your sweet sheath will accept all of me and weep for more, I promise you!” Then he was kissing her, his lips raining a hundred little kisses on her face, scorching at her temples, her closed eyelids, her sculpted cheekbones, her stubborn chin, and the corners of her trembling mouth. His two hands pinioned her lightly against the soft velvet-covered mattress. He was strong, and she knew he could break her should he decide that was what he wanted. He was kissing her now upon her lips, testing the texture of her mouth. The kisses demanded an answer that she knew she would have to give, and the only way she could do that was to abandon herself to total passion. Niall! her tortured heart cried out. Forgive me, my darling, but I must do this if I am to save you and bring you back to me, to our babes!
Then she kissed Kedar, hesitantly at first, the kiss deepening with the increasing pressure of his lips. “Muna, Muna!” he spoke low against her mouth, and she shivered with the dark intensity of his voice. Gasping, she opened her lips to him as he ran his tongue quickly across them. Her breath came in little pants as his tongue licked the side of her face, then along her slender neck. Finding the palpitating hollow of her throat, he buried his lips there, growling, and she was again reminded of a sleek and savage cat. He terrified her. He was like an animal, possessive and totally sure of himself and his prowess. He reeked of his own masculinity. Then suddenly his tongue was entering her mouth, seeking delicately, probing gently.
Skye moaned, trying to escape the building fury of his fierce passion, but he held her firmly now, refusing to accept any rejection on her part. It would be an endless battle between them, and the knowledge of that was an incredible aphrodisiac to Kedar. Her tongue struggled to escape his, but he caught at it and sucked upon that delectable morsel. His fingers now sought her cleft once more, and pushing two of them gently within her he moved his hand slowly back and forth until with a soft cry she had her first tiny orgasm. With a smile he drew his fingers out and, pressing one of them against her lips, said, “Taste, my fair Muna. Taste your own sweet honey.” She obeyed him, sucking the salty sweetness from his finger, and then watching almost mesmerized as he sucked the second finger once she had finished. He then drew the two wet fingers between the valley of her breasts in a slow and seductive motion, his hazel eyes holding her blue-green ones with a forceful magnetism.
“Tell me what pleases you,” he demanded.
Skye pretended confusion. “My lord,” she said low, “I have been taught by the women in the bagnos that it is not what
pleases me that matters, but rather, what pleases you. I have been told that it is the woman’s duty to please her master, to ride him to pleasure. Is it not so?”
“For some, perhaps,” he answered, smiling, “but I believe a man is better served when he may conquer the woman beneath him. There will be times when it pleases me to let you ride me, fair Muna, but that is my decision. I will lead you in our lovemaking. You need not fear, my beautiful one, that you will displease me.” His fingers then trailed back up between her breasts. “Tonight,” he said, “I want to learn about you. I want to know what gives you pleasure, what excites you, how your luscious body responds to sensuousness. Tell me what your last lord did when you made love together.”
“We … we made love,” she replied helplessly, deciding that lack of sophistication in this area was what would make him happiest.
“He touched your body?”
“Yes.”
“Your breasts? He rode you?”
“Y-yes.”
“What else?” Kedar demanded.
“What else is there, my lord?” Skye’s blue-green eyes were guileless, but inside she was trembling again as she wondered where this line of questioning was leading. Was he a gentle man, or was he one of those who gained pleasure through pain?
A slow, satisfied smile lit Kedar’s features. “There is much, much more, my fair slave, than the little that you have described to me. I can open a whole new world to you, and I intend to!”
In a corner of the divan rested a woven gold basket, square in shape and without a handle. Within the basket were several bottles carved from different-colored marbles and alabaster. Without even looking closely, Kedar reached out and drew forth a narrow-necked vessel with a silver and cork stopper. He opened it, and a strong fragrance, vaguely familiar, wafted out.
“Musk rose,” he said, seeing her curiosity. “It is a special lotion for the body. Turn onto your back and let me rub some on you.”
Skye rolled over and lay waiting tensely for his touch. When it came it was gentle yet strong. He had warmed the lotion in his hands so as not to shock her delicate skin, and his sure, long strokes swept up her back from her buttocks, kneading the muscles with a firm motion. His touch was strangely soothing, and she began to relax. What an odd man he was, she thought. Seeing his open lust, she had thought he would be quick to
mount her and sate that desire. Instead, here he was massaging her with tender hands and making no effort to hurry her. Perhaps it would not be so dreadful to pretend to be his slave for the next few weeks until she found Niall, and with young Hamal formulated a plan for their escape from Fez.
“Do you like this, Muna?” he whispered into her ear. Then he very gently nipped at the back of her neck, pushing her long hair aside first.
“Yes, my lord, it is most pleasurable,” she answered him.
He laughed softly and resumed his massage, working now on each of her long legs, the firm thighs and calves, her slim feet. “I once had a slave girl from Cathay,” he said, “who taught me that there is a particularly sensitive spot on the foot.” His fingers dug into her foot, and suddenly Skye felt a stab of desire race through her. She gasped, surprised, and Kedar laughed again. “Yes, my fair Muna, right there.” He moved on to her other leg and worked it as he had the first. “Turn over now, beautiful one,” he ordered, and she obeyed.
“What happened to your slave girl from Cathay?” Skye asked.
“She died under my lash,” he said casually.
“Why?”
Skye was horrified.
“I caught her betraying me with one of my guard. He was forced to watch while I beat her. Just before she lost consciousness for good, my head eunuch decapitated him. I then finished her punishment. No one takes what is mine!”
“You killed her,” Skye whispered. “Dear God!”
He tipped the alabaster flask of pale-pink lotion into his hands, and then put aside the bottle to massage her breasts and her belly. “It should not concern you, beautiful Muna. I am normally a kind master, but you must understand that I could not allow one of my women to escape severe punishment for such unconscionable behavior.”
“Could you not have sold her off?”
“To whom? Who would want a faithless woman? Besides, I would not be shamed by the public knowledge that one to whom I had given the title of
favorite
had openly cuckolded me.” He sat astride her hips, his supple hands smoothing the silky pink liquid over her soft belly, across her quivering breasts. His eyes, hazel green with small flickering gold pinpoints of light, bore into her blue-green ones. “Tell me what you are feeling now, Muna?”
Skye forced her thoughts from the unfortunate woman whom Kedar had so easily killed. She realized that without warning her
body was beginning to feel restless and strangely hot beneath his hands. She shifted nervously. “I feel strange,” she whispered. “Hot. A little …” she hesitated to give him any advantage. “A little frightened,” she finished, unable to think of another word.
“I don’t want you to feel frightened,” he said soothingly. “I want you only to feel pleasure.” He leaned forward across her, and reached into the gold basket. Drawing out a small crystal flask from the container, he uncorked it. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, and when she did he poured a small amount of clear, apricot-flavored liquid into it.
Skye swallowed, and then asked softly, “What is it, my lord?”
“Nothing to be afraid of, Muna. It will calm your fears and relax your body,” he soothed, and then he dipped a long finger into the flask, rubbed the liquid upon one of her nipples, and, lowering his dark head, began to suck upon it.
The shudder that ripped through her almost tore her apart. Her whole body was suddenly aflame, burning with the need to love and be loved. She moaned, arcing her body against his mouth, her hands sliding across his shoulders and back, her nails raking ever so lightly. His growl of laughter sent another shudder through her, and then he was releasing her nipple and drizzling some of the clear apricot fluid over her navel. Bending his dark head again, he lapped at the liquid with his tongue, following the wet line down her belly and pearly Venus mont into her cleft, which had opened like a pretty pink shell to his questing tongue. Like Cupid’s arrow, his tongue darted quickly here and there, touching and teasing everything sensitive until Skye was writhing with the need to be possessed by him.
There was another growl of laughter as he lifted his head once more. “Now,” he said, “you must do the same to me, my beautiful slave.” Lying back, he poured some of the liquid onto his own belly. “Come, Muna, and pleasure your master,” was his command.
Skye rolled slowly over onto her belly. Her entire body felt relaxed yet incredibly desperate for total sexual fulfillment. She shifted herself until her head was over his belly, and then she began to lick at him, moving lower and lower until she encountered his fast-stiffening manhood. She stopped for a brief moment, but his hand pushed her head forward and he said in a tense voice, “Take me in your mouth, fair Muna!” She obeyed, part of her mind amazed at her easy compliance with his order, while the other part of her brain craved with a strange intensity
to do the act. In the few seconds of clarity she had before tumbling into the sensual abyss Skye realized that both the lotion he had massaged her with and the apricot-flavored liquid were aphrodisiacs. Then without another thought for what she was doing, her only desire being for pleasure, she began to run her tongue around the ruby head of his great lance, to lick the length of him with slow and sweet strokes, to take him into the warm cavity of her mouth to nurse upon until she tasted the first salty drops of his juices. Then he wrapped his hand into her dark hair and, pulling her away, groaned, “Enough, houri! You will surely unman me if I allow you to continue.”
Skye whimpered a protest, but Kedar was now ready to couple with her, and he had no intention of being denied what he instinctively knew was going to be an incredible pleasure. Later he would teach her refinements to increase his pleasure; later he would allow her to suck him dry; but not this time. Rolling her onto her back, he mounted her and with one swift motion drove himself into her wet and waiting sheath. Her small cry of pleasure-pain only increased his desire. She was very tight, and he knew that his first assault had hurt her a little, but that would shortly change. With an easy and rhythmic motion he moved himself back and forth, watching through blazing, half-closed eyes her every reaction and listening with a fine-tuned ear to her little mewing cries. Skilled, he knew just how far he might drive her.