The Sheik and the Slave (20 page)

"You know I've dreamt about you day and night," he
said huskily in her ear.
“
You
haunt me.
”

Katharine shook her head.

"No. I don't want anything from you." Her heart
raced as his weight settled on top of her. She could feel her body coming to
life.

"So it seems. While I scour the whole of Arabia looking
for you after Yasmeen had you kidnapped, I find out you are spreading your legs
for half of England," he looked down into her sea-colored eyes.

"What?" she asked him, shocked.

"Yes. Yasmeen has been returned to her family in
disgrace. But I shouldn't have bothered. Perhaps I should bring you back to
Arabia to satisfy myself and then my brothers when I tire of you."

Katharine struggled underneath him.

"I never meant to deceive Majeed. Please believe me. He
and Rana were nothing but good to me."

"No, you need do nothing, princess. Men just flock to
your honey," he sneered.

With that, Mohammed moved his hand between her thighs.
Katharine was mortified. She could deny him with her words, but she knew her
passage was already slick with her juices.

"Spread your legs, princess," he said.

"No," she argued. She tried to squeeze her thighs
together, but his hand parted them. He released both her hands and she tried in
vain to push at his shoulders.

"How much honey do you give them?" he asked. His
fingers moved into her and she opened her thighs to him.

"That's it," he whispered into her ear.

Katharine
’
s
fingers clutched his shoulders as his fingers moved into her tight, wet
passage. The tightness surrounded his finger as the warm core enveloped him.

"Mohammed," she said. She wanted him so badly, but
she couldn
’
t tell
him.

He spread her thighs and moved between them. She was all the
more beautiful in her ruby red dress and diamonds, even though he preferred her
scented with jasmine in a world of sand and heat.

“
Don
’
t deny me,
”
he said. He pulled her
into a sitting position on the bed and impaled her deeply upon his thick cock.

“
Ah!
”
she cried out, even as
he shushed her.

Once she settled into the rhythm of the new position, he
quickly had her mounted on top. She was confused at first.

“
Ride
me,
”
he said. His
words were delicious in the cool room.

She began to bounce up and down on him as he opened the
bodice, spilling out her breasts. His hands went to her waist and he could tell
she was near climax. As she started to tumble into oblivion, he joined her, and
his seed settled deep inside her.

The room was quiet again, except for their heavy breathing.
It eventually subsided.

"You will come back to Arabia and join the harem,"
Mohammed told her. His ego would allow no more, though he wanted her at his
side.

Katharine pulled back and tugged at her bodice.

"You are insulting. I am offered marriage here, yet I'm
to go to Arabia and be your whore?"

"What can your Englishman give you?
”
Mohammed sneered.
“
I can give you servants
and a palace, even inside the harem. I can give you what you need,
”
he said arrogantly,
buttoning himself up.
“
After
all, I am willing to take the leavings of an Englishman.
”

"Leavings? How dare you. I've done nothing to be
ashamed of."

"There was talk of you in the ballroom. You fainted.
They think you are pregnant. Used goods. They think you couldn't wait until the
wedding night."

"I couldn't. Why should I?" she asked. She raised
her head haughtily. Let him think that she was used. Let him think what he
would.

She alone knew that the only man who had even known her
sexually was before her. She lay before him on the bed, legs spread and dress
bunched up around her slim thighs.

Mohammed's hand slid up her thigh. "So what would one
more mean to you? You are so experienced. So used to a man."

Katharine shivered as he moved the silk dress further up her
thighs. He spoke to her in Arabic. The words were half coarse, half loving as
he spoke of his need for her.

"No one but you will do," he said, as his mouth
roughly took hers.

He pulled back suddenly to look at her.

"I have traveled from Arabia to bring you back. You
belong at my side, princess."

"No," Katharine said, shaking her head.
"There can never be anything between us."

Mohammed smirked as he surveyed the scene before him,
knowing his seed was even now inside her. "So, little falcon. You think I
will leave here and let you marry that Englishman? I told you before, I'm not
leaving England without you."

"You must see the truth. Please. We have no
future," she begged him.

Katharine knew that as much as she dreamed and yearned for
him, they were too different. She knew in her heart that as much as she wanted
him, she would never have him. His arrogance would only allow her to remain in
the harem, never at his side as his wife.

Tears gathered in her eyes.

"Please, Mohammed. If you care for me at all, you'll
let me go," she said.

Mohammed looked down at her and then stood up, smoothing her
dress down as he did.

He said only one word in Arabic before he left her room.
Katharine shivered at the word he had said.

It meant
“
impossible.
”

***

Katharine had agreed to journey to France in a month, and
her mother wrote the necessary letters.

She knew that if she could stay hidden from Mohammed, she
could break the spell he held over her. Once she was legally married, she need
never worry about Mohammed again. She would marry Jamie, bear his children and
have a life in the country.

If only she could stop dreaming about a little boy with
honey-colored skin, dark, curly hair, and sea blue eyes.

Chapter
12

The stagecoach rocked back and forth and Katharine settled
uneasily into the cushions. She was excited about the trip to France but
loathed the thought of another sea voyage. She sank into a fitful sleep and was
troubled by her dreams.

She could hear the hounds barking in the distance as the
hunt was about to begin. She watched the men mount their horses one at a time
and saw Jamie settle atop a grey dappled horse and gallop into the distance.

She wondered where the fox was and felt sorry for it. The
violence was something she usually couldn't stomach and she hated the men
chasing after the poor innocent creature.

Suddenly she turned as she heard a woman's gasp of
outrage and cry of indignation.

A lovely red-haired woman was being disrobed in a brutal
fashion next to her. The woman's long skirts were slashed away from her body
with a long sword and her corset followed.

The woman shrieked and cried as two men stripped her
naked in front of the remaining men and women.

Just then, a mounted blonde male swooped down and
captured the redhead. The man had already unbuttoned himself and was ready for
the woman as his cock surged forward, hard and strong.

Katharine could make out the woman being held in front of
the man as he rode toward the sunlight, impaling her upon his cock.

Kat gasped. Where was she? What was going on? It was
indecent. Disgusting.

She heard a loud male voice urging the men on.

"Take the foxes! Take them, men," a voice cried
out. "Take them and be quick about it!"

She watched two more women be disrobed and impaled upon
large cocks as the couples rode off into the distance. The women were squirming
and crying as the men laughed in domination.

"Stop it! I forbid you to touch me!!" Katharine
cried in an almost hysteric voice as two unknown men approached her.

The two men were unknown to her and unshaven. They looked
like peasants, dirty and unclean, and she glanced around for help. Other women
were around but they were also being attacked. The men were all mounted or
galloping around waiting for their prey to be disrobed.

She began to back away from the men, even as they
advanced upon her.

"Don't got nowheres to go, duchess," said one
man in a thick accent as he wiped his hand across his mouth.

The other man eyed her luscious breasts and pulled a
knife from his boot.

"Come on, lovey," said the man with the knife.
"They all want it. Same as you. What's a woman for but to tumble on 'er
back and 'ave at it."

"Do you know who I am?" Katharine cried as one
man reached out for her. She tried to fight, but it was in vain. The men were
too strong for her and she couldn't evade them.

One man held her in his meaty grip as the other began
slashing at her skirts. Her skirts fell at her feet in a limp pile and the men
admired her long legs.

"Lovely little fox you are," said the one man.

"I forbid you to do this!" she yelled.

The men ignored her and began caressing her as they cut
off her corset ties and wrenched it from her body. Katharine tried to cover herself,
but their rough hands squeezed her breasts. One man kneaded her breasts with
his fingers and teased her tender nipples with his callused fingers.

"You are a lovely bird," he grinned, as he
began to fondle his hard cock with his other hand.

She spat in his face and backed away from them while
running. Their laughter echoed in her ears.

"Aint got nowheres to go, duchess," one of them
called after her.

Her heart thudded in her breast at the shame of their
touch.

She was naked and standing beside a small wheat field
when she heard the horses' hooves beating upon the earth.

"No," she breathed out.

She didn't look back to see the rider because it didn't
matter. She would never give in. Suddenly she was scooped up from behind and
settled before him in the saddle.

"Princess. Why do you always run?" he murmured
in her ear and she shivered.

Oh God. She would never be free of him. He nuzzled her
neck once, biting it lightly.

"Give in, princess, give in," he said.

He lifted her slightly before him and before she could
cry out, he impaled her upon his thick cock. The thrust filled her completely
and she cried out once.

Oh God. Katharine closed her eyes tightly. It felt like
heaven. She was so stuffed.

Mohammed grunted. He filled his hands with her breasts as
he pumped into her body, echoing the rhythm of the horses' hooves into the
ground.

"You will always be mine," he whispered to her.

"No," she whimpered.

“
Yes.
You will always be mine.
”

***

Katharine jerked awake in the stagecoach. The older couple
and woman stared at her as she blotted her forehead with a handkerchief. The
stagecoach jolted with the steps of the horses and she could feel her stomach
roll. She wanted to vomit.

"My dear. Are you all right? You look feverish,"
asked the older woman.

"Thank you, I'm fine. I don't feel well. It must have
been something I ate," Katharine told her as she settled back into the
cushions.

It was only as she was falling asleep that she remembered
she hadn't had anything at all to eat.

Quickly, Katharine began to dream again.

The pain ripped through her and she screamed into the
room.

"That's it, little one, don't fight it,"
Bashasha cooed to Katharine as the spasms racked her body.

"It hurts so much," Katharine screamed as the
pain tore through her body again.

Bashasha dabbed her forehead with a cool wet cloth, which
helped soothe her.

"It's almost over, little one," she said.

Katharine could feel the spasm leave and she panted like
a dog.

"Please, it hurts too much," she cried in
exhaustion. "I can't take it."

"Of course you can, little one, it's almost
over," Bashasha told her. "This is what women must do."

Kat could hear people around here scurrying to do
Bashasha's bidding as she asked for more clean linen and water.

"And tell my lord Mohammed that it is almost
over," Bashasha murmured to one girl.

Katharine felt another spasm of pain ripple through her
body and cried out, even as Bashasha yelped in delight.

"I see the head!" she exclaimed.

Bashasha knelt between Katharine's cream-colored legs to
inspect the new babe entering the world.

"I see the head, I see the head," she cried.
"Push, little one. Push hard."

Katharine gritted her teeth and pushed her firstborn
child out into the world. The small baby slipped out of her womb, followed by
another push in which the afterbirth fell out. The cord was cut and the baby
was cleaned off.

"Oh little one," Bashasha cried with happiness.
"A son."

Katharine rested upon the cushions as Mohammed came
inside the room.

"A son, my lord," Bashasha told him, smiling.
"A son."

People were crowding into the room to look at the next
Sheik of Arabia. He was small, but had no marks on him whatsoever. He was the
color of honey, with dark locks and startling blue eyes.

"Princess," he leaned forward to kiss Katharine
on the forehead. "Thank you. He's perfect."

Katharine tried to respond to him but couldn't. The
voices around her receded as she struggled to keep them coherent. She focused
on Mohammed, but suddenly the room began to grow darker and darker. She could
feel herself floating away and knew she was dying. She could feel the tears
behind her eyes and she tried to speak.