The Awakening, Zuleika and the Barbarian (17 page)

"Patience, my lord Amir Khan. One should never hurry too quickly along roads to paradise, I have been told."

"Give me your lips!"
his deep, rough voice grated out to her.

Zuleika raised her head up to meet his kiss, and the sensation that exploded within her took her by surprise. His mouth was hard, yet it was soft. It demanded, but oh, so sweetly. Her lips seemed to part of their own volition. His tongue plunged into her mouth seeking her tongue. Again she was overcome by feelings that threatened to overwhelm her.
So this is passion
, noted the small part of her brain still functioning. It was really quite breathtaking.

He lifted his leonine head from hers. "You kiss well for a novice," he told her, and Zuleika laughed aloud.

"I expect you kiss very well for a lover," she observed.

"You have never been kissed before? How is that possible?" he demanded of her, astounded. Surprised.

"I told you, I am a virgin. I was taught to practice kissing upon a sheet of beaten gold, my lord Amir Khan. This is the first time I have ever been kissed back. It is quite pleasurable."

Now it was he who laughed, and the sound was deep and rich. It sent a delicious shiver down her spine. "A sheet of beaten gold," he said. "Not silver? Or copper? Why gold?"

"I am a princess," she responded simply.

Suddenly his hand was smoothing her soft dark head. "Zuleika of Dariyabar, you are a conundrum I shall enjoy both exploring and solving," he told her. He was shocked by his great desire for her, but he also had the most incredible need to protect her. She was that rarest of women, strong, yet fragile too.

"I can feel your lust against me," she said in a soft voice. "Let me ease it for you, my lord Amir, as I am obviously the cause of your discomfort." Then she slipped from his tender embrace, and fell to her knees before him. She took the ruby-eyed head of his love lance between two fingers of her hand, holding it straight. Then she began to lick its length with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. "I shall sup upon your juices," she told him.

He closed his dark eyes. His temples were pounding in rhythm with his heart, and all of his pulses. When she took him into the warm cavern of her mouth, almost swallowing him, suckling strongly upon him, he wanted to scream with the incredible pleasure that she was giving him. He had never permitted a woman this privilege of his body, yet he could not have made her cease even if he wished it.
And he didn't
. Wave after wave of delight washed over him until his juices finally exploded, and she swallowed them almost greedily, retaining his flesh in her mouth until he finally softened slightly. His legs felt like water. Amir Khan was amazed that he did not collapse like some maiden, for he felt weak with his satisfaction. For a moment he could not speak.

Zuleika arose to her feet, reaching out first to pick up her delicate garment which she restored to her lush body. She licked just the tiniest pearl of his juices from the corner of her mouth, smiling. "I can see I have managed to put you at your ease once more, Amir Khan. Your juices are quite refreshing, as I had been told they would be."

"You never did that before either?" he asked, reaching for his own striped robe, and putting it on again.

"Of course not," she returned with a smile. "Bahira and I were taught the art of using dildos made of some magical material that grew hard and bigger as we sucked upon it. The juices within were always sugar water. Your juices are creamy, and slightly flavored with salt. They are very stimulating. Now, shall we conclude our bargain, Amir Khan?"

"I will take you to wife," he said, "and as you yourself have said, you will be the key that opens Dariyabar for me. And your vizier's daughter will wed with my general, Lord Sabola."

"And you will destroy my cousin, Haroun," she reminded him.

"Agreed. I agree to it all, Zuleika of Dariyabar! But you must know something before we conclude our compact. Once you are my wife, and Bahira is Sabola's wife, you are both bound to obey us in all things. Do you understand me?"

"Of course," she replied. "Wives are meant to obey their lords and masters, Amir Khan. Is that not the way of the world?"

"Will you attempt to rule Dariyabar through me, Zuleika?" he asked her bluntly.

"I will offer you the benefit of my advice, my lord Amir, and nothing more. Whether you choose to accept my advice is up to you." She smiled prettily at him, and her teeth were very white.

He had to laugh. "You are not very subtle," he told her.

"I will be a good wife to you, my lord. I know that my first duty is to give you a son. I will do it as quickly as I can," she swore. Then she took up her cloak, and drew it about her. "Kansbar's magic will not hold past the dawn, and the night wanes, my lord Amir. Come to my father's palace beneath a flag of truce today. He will not, despite my cousin, refuse you. And you must insist we be wed as quickly as possible. Do not allow Haroun to delay our marriage while he considers ways to thwart you. He is not particularly intelligent, but he has the slyness of a dishonest peasant. Both he and his favorite, Golnar, are wicked. They would stop at nothing to gain Dariyabar. That is why you must act quickly. Will you trust me in this, Amir Khan?"

"In this matter I shall heed your advice, Zuleika of Dariyabar," he told her. "Meeting you tonight has been both a surprise and a delight."

She gave him a final quick smile, and then disappeared through the entry of his tent into the moonlit night. Curious, he moved to watch her go. Her shadow passed swiftly through the maze of tents until he could see it no more. He stepped back into his pavilion and poured himself a goblet of wine. What had just happened here? Was it real, or had he imagined it all? No. His male member was still tingling from her bold attentions. Zuleika of Dariyabar had indeed been in his tent tonight.

He would take her to wife. Aye, he would! He had no wife. He had barely had time for any woman, particularly in the last three years. She was beautiful. She was clever. And she would give him Dariyabar! But she was right when she said her cousin, Haroun, would attempt to stop them. Haroun, who had encouraged his cousins to take up arms against Amir Khan, thereby insuring their demises while he remained within the safety of his city's walls to become his uncle's only male heir. The man was a coward, and he was a bully.

But Zuleika was also right when she said he had a peasant's cleverness. Choosing the vizier's daughter as his prospective wife was indeed a sly move. The khan chuckled to himself. General Sabola was his best friend. They had been raised together in the camp of his own father, The Great Khan. Sabola would be reluctant to have a bride foisted upon him, but by the Gods! If this maiden, Bahira, was as sensual as was the princess, Sabola would have no cause for complaint. Suddenly Amir Khan was overcome with a feeling of exhaustion. Was it natural, or was it the work of the genie, Kansbar? It mattered not. He lay down, and fell into a deep slumber.

When he awoke, strangely refreshed, he heard the sounds of activity in his encampment. His servants were immediately there bringing him his morning meal. He had barely begun it when Sabola arrived to share it with him. He was almost as big as Amir Khan, smooth-shaven, with the powerful frame of a bull. His dark hair was cropped very short. His brown eyes were intelligent. He sat down at his lord's table, and then his jaw dropped at the words issuing forth from the Khan's mouth.

"We are going to be married, old friend," Amir Khan said with a chortle. "Both of us! I shall have the princess of Dariyabar to wife, and you shall take the vizier's fair daughter as your mate." Having said it, the khan began to eat heartily.

"I slept the sleep of the dead last night, Amir," Sabola said.

"Of course you did," the khan noted. "A spell was placed upon the city and our camp by the genie whose task it is to watch over Dariyabar. All slept but for Zuleika, princess of Dariyabar, and me." Then the khan told his best friend everything that had transpired between him and the princess.

"How can you be certain it is not a skillful trap hatched by this princess and her cousin, Haroun?" Sabola asked, suspicious.

"It isn't. The princess hates her cousin. She realizes that it is he who was responsible for her brothers' deaths. Having finally understood his true character, she is determined he not follow her father as sultan of Dariyabar. By marrying her I gain a legitimacy as the sultan's heir. Zuleika is the key to Dariyabar for us as long as she is my wife. The vizier's daughter binds us ever closer if you wed her."

Sabola nodded. "If she is as skilled as your princess, my friend, I shall not be unhappy. I don't suppose we might share our women now and again?"

"Of course we will share them," the khan replied. "After we have had their virginities of them, we shall spend a night of pleasure and passion together with our wives. Have we not always shared out women? Zuleika will obey, and her friend as well."

"I suppose we must bathe if we are to marry today," Sabola considered. "We will wed them today, won't we?"

The khan nodded. "I think it best we do, if we are to thwart Prince Haroun. I will send a messenger with a flag of truce and a message for the sultan that I wish to meet with him. I shall say nothing of what I want, lest Prince Haroun read the message first and realize what we are about." He looked to a servant. "Fetch my scribe," he instructed him.

The scribe came. The message was dictated. The messenger was dispatched to the palace of Dariyabar beneath a flag of truce. He returned to say that the sultan would receive Amir Khan in the late afternoon.

Sabola nodded. "The die is cast," he said.

Amir Khan nodded. "Soon, Dariyabar will be ours," he said.

Zuleika awoke after only three hours of sleep, but she felt as refreshed as if she had slumbered the entire night away. She listened to the birds singing out in her garden, a sense of great peace upon her. She had been kissed, but more important she had begun to put into practice all she had been taught about being a woman. She could not wait to share this with Bahira. She had found kneeling before Amir Khan, his wonderfully large manhood at her mercy, quite stimulating. The memory of it sent a flash of raw desire racing through her veins. His hands as he had lightly fondled her breasts had been exciting too. She realized that she could barely wait to have him atop her, his love lance eager to sheathe itself deep within her. She had been so tempted last night, but she had managed to push her own lustful thoughts from her mind for there was other business to conclude. "Rafa," she called to her servant.

"Yes, my princess?" the servant said, instantly appearing by her bedside.

"Fetch me my morning meal, and see what gossip you can gather while you go about your duties," Zuleika instructed the woman.

Rafa smiled a sly smile. "So, whatever you wanted to do you have now accomplished. Will you tell me?"

"Not yet," Zuleika replied, "but I believe I have saved us all. Send a slave girl for Bahira. She is to say the princess desires her companionship today."

Rafa bowed, and then hurried off while Zuleika's mind wandered back to her barbarian lord. He was so very big. When she had laid her head upon his hairless chest, a clean male scent had assailed her nostrils. His skin was so beautiful, taut over his muscular arms and legs, but smooth and soft beneath her lips. Yet so very masculine. He reeked of brute strength, and power. It had frankly thrilled her. She could barely wait to find herself in his arms once again. Her longing was almost palpable, an suddenly restless, she arose from her bed. She shed the flimsy garment she had slept in, and walking through her bedchamber entered her private bathing room. Pouring a thin stream of a creamy liquid soap into a large sea sponge, she stepped into the shell-shaped indentation in the marble floor, and gave herself a quick wash. Her breasts tingled as she touched them, her nipples puckering. She laughed to herself, realizing that she had again been thinking of Amir Khan, and the big warm hand that had so gently cupped her breasts, each in its turn. Zuleika rinsed herself off beneath a stream of water pouring from the mouth of a goldfish spout. Then coming from the shell basin she stepped down into the warm, scented pool. She floated about, relaxed, her long black hair streaming behind her like dark seaweed.

Would he come today? she wondered. He was a barbarian, yet she believed he was intelligent enough to understand everything she had told him. Would he ask for the princess of Dariyabar for his wife, and not accept her as his concubine? She knew her visit to his encampment had surprised him, even as her direct speech had. He had been more than interested by the magic she possessed through the genie, Kansbar. Her upper teeth worried her lower lip. She wanted him to come today!

Zuleika heard Rafa returning from her errand with the meal, and, it was to be hoped, some useful gossip. She came forth from the perfumed pool, twisted the water from her heavy dark hair, and dried herself on a fine heavy drying cloth made of cotton imported from a land to the southwest. Wrapping the cloth about herself, and another about her head, she reentered her bedchamber saying as she came, "What news?"

"It is said that the barbarian comes into the city this afternoon beneath a flag of truce, my princess," Rafa replied, her eyes bright with her curiosity. "Did you have something to do with this?"

Zuleika smiled, but said nothing on the subject. Instead, she sat down and began eating the melon Rafa had placed upon the table. It was pale green in color, and exceedingly sweet. It almost melted in her mouth, caressing her throat as it slid down. She remembered the head of his manhood pressing against the back of her throat before she had relaxed her throat muscles, easing him deeper. She shuddered at the memory, wondering if all men's lances were as fleshy and as long as his had been. That was the difficulty with being both a princess and a virgin. So much more was expected of you than just an ordinary girl. Still Amir Khan would, she suspected, prove an excellent lover. He could not be otherwise. Finishing the melon, she reached for a small flaky crescent of bread that had been fried crisp, dipped in warm butter and honey, and then dusted with cinnamon. Wolfing it down she took another, and sipped from her goblet of pomegranate juice thoughtfully.

"What will you wear today?" Rafa demanded to know.

"Royal purple, or course," Zuleika said, "but I will not dress yet. When the barbarian is entering the city."

"The sultan has sent no word that he wishes you to be at this particular interview," Rafa answered her mistress.

"Nevertheless, I will be there. Do you think I want Haroun whispering in my father's ancient ear and ruining all my plans? Oh no! The princess of Dariyabar will be in the audience chamber when the barbarian enters it. My cousin may gnash his teeth, but my father will allow me to remain. He loves me in his own way, for I remind him of my dead mother. If Haroun attempts to thwart me, I need only bring up the memory of Jamila, and my father melts."

"You are a very wicked girl!" Rafa scolded her. "I do not know if your mother would approve of you at all."

"Perhaps she would not," Zuleika responded, "but Jamila is not here, and I am. I must do everything in my power to protect both Dariyabar, and myself."

"And the old sultan," Rafa said softly.

"My father is Dariyabar," Zuleika said. She arose from the table, and at that moment Bahira entered the princess's chamber.

"Good morning, Zuleika! I have come for all the gossip!" She plunked herself down upon a silk-covered sofa, eyes twinkling. "I had the most amazing sleep last night," she remarked innocently.

"Humph," Rafa remarked, and then she muttered, "Probably filled with lustful dreams too, Lady Bahira." She gathered up the dishes from the table, and placing them on a tray went off, saying as she shut the door to her mistress's apartments, "I will see what else I can learn."

"You slept well because Kansbar cast a spell over everyone but Amir Khan and me," Zuleika began. "I went to his encampment, for I had a proposal to offer him. He is coming into the city today beneath a flag of truce, but he will not accept me as his concubine. He will ask for me as his wife, Bahira! And you are to be married to his general, Sabola! If he is as gorgeous as Amir Khan you will never want to leave your bed. I am Amir Khan's key to Dariyabar. Together we will vanquish Haroun, and my father may continue to live out his final years in peace and prosperity. When he is gone, Amir Khan will be sultan here."

Bahira's blue eyes were thoughtful. "It seems a foolproof plan," she said slowly, "but what if Haroun objects? He is greedy and ruthless, and as we know, both cunning and resourceful. He might be willing to let me go to a barbarian as wife, but not you, I think."

"He will have no choice," Zuleika said smugly. "The barbarian lord does my father honor by offering to wed me, and not just accept me into his harem. Sultan Ibrahim is old, and he is forgetful, but his pride is still intact. I shall be in the audience chamber this afternoon, and you must be with me. I shall dress us both in the finest robes that I have, Bahira. We will impress the barbarians, for they have surely never seen our like."

"What is
he
like? Amir Khan," Bahira asked.

"He is a beautiful man, if indeed such a word can be used to describe a man. His body is magnificent, and when his lust for me became obvious I took his manhood in my mouth, and soothed it. It was much, much better than those dildoes we have practiced on all our lives."

"What were his juices like?" Bahira leaned closer to her friend, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Hot, creamy and salty," Zuleika replied.

"And he caressed you?" Bahira's breath quickened.

"His hands were all over my breasts," Zuleika responded. "I cannot wait until we lay together, and really make love!"

"Tell me about his body," Bahira begged.

"He is taller than any man I have ever seen. His chest is broad, and hairless. His waist tapers into his hips, which are narrow. When he turned I could see his buttocks were tight, and deliciously rounded. The nipples on his chest are perfect circles with deep rose-colored peaks. His skin is the palest gold in color, and while the flesh is firm, it is soft. His arms and his legs are muscled, and big, yet nicely formed. I thought his feet and hands graceful despite their size. The curls around his shaft are as black as the horsetail of hair that leaps from his shaven skull. I already desire him greatly."

"Is his face a handsome one?" Bahira wondered.

"Yes, but not like Haroun. Haroun is almost pretty, but Amir Khan's face is strong and masculine. His eyes are dark, and his nose very straight, and his mouth big like the rest of him. When he speaks, his voice is both deep and rough. I find him exciting."

"Did you see his general, Sabola?" Bahira queried.

"Nay, I did not, but I have yet to see an ugly barbarian," Zuleika noted. "As I walked to and from the city I saw their guards sleeping, and their features were very pleasing to my eye."

Rafa returned with more information regarding the impending visit of Amir Khan. The barbarian would arrive with his general. Here Zuleika and Bahira exchanged a look that Rafa did not miss, but she continued on. They would come with but a dozen of their men. The gates to the city, however, were to remain open while the khan was within its walls.

"And my father agreed?" Zuleika was surprised.

"Prince Haroun convinced the sultan that the khan may be the enemy, but he is, like the sultan, a man of honor," Rafa said.

"And where, I wonder, did he get that idea?" Zuleika remarked. "What hour is he to arrive?"

"Three hours past the noon hour, my princess," Rafa responded.

"Good," Zuleika said. "Then there is time for us to prepare ourselves, for Bahira is coming with me, Rafa. She will wear the emerald green robes, for the color flatters her. I shall have the robes that match my eyes. Royal purple brings out the softness in my skin tones." She unwound the toweling from her hair, and a slave girl hurried up to brush the princess's tresses dry.

"Such foolish vanity!" Rafa snorted, but she began to fetch all that would be required so she might dress her princess and the vizier's lovely daughter. The two gowns were carefully laid out, along with matching slippers, jewelry, and headdresses. The two girls lay down to rest upon a wide sofa, cuddling companionably in each other's arms. When they awoke, slave women brought them fresh apricots, green grapes, and purple plums to eat. When they had finished, silver basins of warm scented water were brought so they might refresh their hands, faces and mouths.

Their hair was dressed by the slave women. Zuleika instructed them to weave her long black hair with tiny strands of pearls. Bahira's auburn tresses were pulled into a single horse's tail with slim braids on either side of her face. Their hair done, the two girls were dressed. Their gowns were simple in design, but extremely elegant. They wore nothing beneath. Each had a low open neckline. Zuleika's was a teardrop, and Bahira's was square. The gowns fit snugly beneath their breasts, and were designed with bejeweled bands set into the rich cloth beneath their bosoms. The broad sleeves had cuffs to match. Bahira sparkled with emeralds, diamonds, and pearls. Zuleika glittered with amethysts, diamonds, and pearls. Their nubile bodies were visible beneath the sheer fine silk of the garments.

A slave girl entered the princess's apartments, and hurrying up to Rafa whispered something in her ear. Rafa nodded, then she turned to Zuleika. "The barbarian is entering the city with his escort," she told her mistress.

Zuleika nodded, and said to Bahira, "We must hurry to the audience chamber so that if Haroun objects there is time to convince my father that our presence is necessary," she said.

Bahira bobbed her head in agreement. "I can't wait to see the look on Haroun's face," she giggled.

Together the two girls hurried through the sultan's palace, finally arriving at the great audience chamber. It was a large room with a domed ceiling decorated in sheets of beaten gold, as were the walls. The marble pillars in the chamber were smooth dark crimson. A floor of the same material was flecked with gold. It was the audience chamber of a powerful man. Ibrahim Sultan was already seated upon his throne, a high-backed bench of pure gold studded with multi-colored jewels and a striped satin cushion beneath him. It was set upon a black marble dais with two steps. Next to it on the right was a three-legged silver stool topped with a white velvet cushion fringed with gold.

The elderly sultan was garbed all in white and gold, an aigrette with a large diamond sprouting forth from his cloth-of-gold turban. To his left stood Prince Haroun, garbed all in black, but for a cloth-of-silver turban decorated with a pigeon's-blood ruby. Zuleika quickly seated herself upon the stool, and a slave set a red silk cushion down for Bahira next to the stool, and slightly behind it.

"You should not be here!" Haroun said sharply.

"Why not?" Zuleika demanded to know. "You would give me to this barbarian as his concubine. Should he not at least see what you offer him before he decides whether to accept, or reject it?"