A Memory of Love (24 page)

“I am said to be kind to those who please me,” he murmured, and he bent to kiss her small ear. Then he let the tip of his tongue explore the delicate whorl of flesh.

What is he doing? Rhonwyn thought, feeling the hot wetness in her ear. She shivered. Edward had never done that.
“Oh!”

His teeth gently worried the fleshy lobe. He pushed the mass of her hair aside and began to kiss the soft nape of her neck, intrigued by the tiny golden curls that sprang from it. They had perfumed her body with a mixture of rose and lily. It was an intoxicating fragrance that set his pulses racing. He nipped tenderly at the back of her neck.

“Oh!”
She started nervously.

“Did your husband ever taste you, Noor?” he asked her. He took one of her hands and licked the palm slowly. Then he began to suck each of her fingers in turn, finally taking three of the digits into his mouth at once, murmuring his approval as he did so.

She was astounded by his behavior. It was surely depraved. Why did he not simply use her and be done with it? Then he surprised her further by laying her flat, his tongue licking at her body in long, leisurely sweeps.
“Please!”
she said.

He raised his dark head a moment. “Please,
what
?”

“Don't do that, my lord! Oh, please, don't do
that
!”

His tongue was laving over her breasts now. She could actually feel the flesh swelling. Her nipples puckered as if they had been touched with ice. Rhonwyn knew the panic was rising up in her, and to her surprise he seemed to sense it, too.

He said, “Why are you afraid, Noor? I am not hurting you. I am merely tasting your flesh, and I find it utterly delicious. I intend to bath your entire body with my tongue. There is nothing wrong in what I do.”

“It is strange to me,” she said weakly.

“Do you find no pleasure in it?”

“Nay!”

“You will eventually, my beauty, when you stop fearing the unknown and start to enjoy the pleasure I can give you this way,” he told her. Then he continued onward.

Rhonwyn closed her eyes and attempted to ease her fears. He was right. She was being foolish. He wasn't hurting her at all. The fleshy tongue was warm, and she began to feel a tiny tingle when it swept over her skin, leaving it wet and then cool. He moved over her belly and then across her Venus mons, which caused her to cry out, startled and not just a little nervous to be touched so intimately.

He raised his head and laughed softly. “You are not ready yet, my exquisite Noor,” he told her.

“R-ready for what?” she quavered.

“In time, my precious,” he said mysteriously, and then began to lick her right thigh. His tongue moved down her leg to her feet, which he kissed most passionately. Then he sucked each of her toes in turn before beginning on her left leg.

“You are mad,” she managed to gasp.

“Your flesh is an opiate of which I cannot get enough,” he responded. Then he turned her over onto her belly and licked the soles of her feet until she giggled. He bathed her legs and her buttocks, running his tongue up the split between the twin moons of her bottom and raising another surprised cry from her. He only laughed again and continued onward until her back and her shoulders were damp with his excesses. He finished by giving her neck a final nip, then turned her over again.

“You're shivering,” he said low, and brushed her lips with his lightly. “Have I begun to melt the ice that surrounds your cold northern heart, Noor?” He ran his tongue along her lips tauntingly. “Now, my beauty, it is time for you to begin your lessons in pleasing your lord and master.” He leapt from the bed, pulling her up with him.

“Undo the wrapping about my loins,” he commanded her.

“You will be naked,” she said foolishly.

He chuckled. “I will.” He reached out and undid the delicate chain about her hips, laying it aside. “Come now, my beauty. Why do you demur? You know what a man's body looks like. There should be no surprises in store for you.”

“You are constantly surprising me, my lord caliph,” she admitted to him, blushing as she spoke.

“The wrap,” he firmly pressed her.

With hesitant fingers Rhonwyn loosened the cloth and then pulled it away from him, laying it aside. Her eyes were carefully averted.

“It pleases me to see how modest you are, my Noor, but you may look upon the object of your defeat without fear. Come, my beauty, and touch it. I want to feel your hands upon me.”

She shrank back from his words, her hands instinctively going behind her back.

“What? You have never touched a manhood? Allah! Allah! You are practically a virgin, Noor. Come now.” Reaching out, the caliph drew the resisting hand forward and placed it upon his smooth groin. He could feel her desperate to pull away, and so he kept his own hand firmly on hers. “There, now, my beauty, let your fingers explore and caress me.”

She knew she should not, but the temptation was simply too great. She had always been curious about Ed-ward's manhood, but had never been brave enough to touch him. Now here was this man inviting her to do so, and she couldn't resist, particularly when he lifted his hand off hers. She brushed her fingertips across his mound. Her hand closed gently about his manhood. It pulsed within her palm, and she could feel it swelling with each passing moment. Unable to stop herself, she caressed its great length, her breath coming a bit more quickly now. He was warm and hard in her hand.

“That's it, my beauty,” he encouraged her. “Now cup my twin jewels in your palm. They are cool to your touch, are they not?”

She nodded slowly.

“They are filled with the seeds of life, Noor. When you are ready I will plant those seeds within you, my beauty. Cease your sweet torture now. In a moment or two I shall not be able to restrain my desire for you, and you are far from ready to meet my passion.”

Her hand dropped away, and she hid her head in his shoulder. Those last moments had been very exciting, and she could feel her heart beating faster than it had previously.

“Your Christian men put women into four categories, Noor. Wives, mothers, whores, or saints. They do not share the secrets of pleasure with their mates. We men of Islam do, and we do not confine ourselves to only one woman. Such a thing is unnatural for a man. No one woman can satisfy all a man's passions.”

“They tell me you have three wives, my lord caliph.”

“I do, although the two younger I may dismiss, for they are quarrelsome creatures ever at odds with the lady Alia and the other women of my harem. Indeed, they may have been responsible for the death of a particularly lovely girl I had decided to favor. Baba Haroun is still investigating, and he will get to the bottom of the matter, I promise you. He is very protective of the lady Alia.”

“Lady Alia is a gracious lady and was kind to me,” Rhonwyn told him.

“She has already spoken in your favor, my Noor, which is why I will be patient with you.” He tilted her face to his again and began to kiss her with far more passion than he had previously. Her instinct was to fight him, but something else overcame Rhonwyn, and she instead melted into his embrace, her mouth softening beneath his.

Why am I doing this? she silently asked herself. But she had no answer. All she knew was that this man was strong and gentle, and her will to resist was growing weaker. What if all they told her was true? That she could not escape Cinnebar. And what if Edward would not have her back? She had surely disobeyed him by involving herself in battle, as he had forbade her. Oh, God! I do not know what I am to do! What was the matter with her?

“I cannot give you pleasure,” she whispered as she pulled away from his mouth.

“You already have,” he told her softly.

“I do not know how to receive pleasure,” she said desperately.

“I will teach you,” he promised her. Then his mouth was hungrily seeking hers again, his tongue pushing past her lips to do battle with her senses.

Rhonwyn half sobbed, her resistance dissolving as her curiosity aroused itself. Perhaps her inability to know pleasure was Edward's fault. Their first mating had not been pleasant. But this man was different. Mayhap he could teach her to relish passion. She could not know if she would not yield herself to him. And if she was not to return to Edward de Beaulie, then what else was there for her but this life? As Nilak had told her, life at the top of the harem was better than at the bottom. She pulled away from him again.
“Teach me, my lord caliph,”
she told him.
“Teach me of passion!”

He took her face between his two hands and gazed directly into her emerald green eyes. His eyes, she noted for the first time, were a deep, deep blue, almost black. “My passion is a fierce thing, Noor,” he warned her, “and you are easily fearful and shy. I want you with every fiber of my being, but I want you to know great pleasure as well. I can see you know little of the delights between a man and a woman. I will show you all those sweet enjoyments, but you must know that I will not harm you or hurt you or give you pain in any of these pursuits. If you are afraid, you will not be abashed and unable to tell me. Our pleasure can be approached in a variety of ways, and all are equally delicious. Will you trust me, my beauty?”

She nodded, her heart hammering with anticipation. Why had not her husband ever said these things to her? For a moment she was angry at Edward, but then she realized that he probably knew as little as she did about passion, although as a man, he would assume he knew all.

The caliph began to kiss her face gently. Her lips. Each of her cheeks. The tip of her nose. Her closed eyelids. Her forehead. Then releasing her face from their soft grip, his hands began to caress her body, smoothing down her neck over her shoulders, sweeping along her long back to cup her buttocks in his hands. He fondled the twin moons, and some deep instinct made her arch her body. With a soft cry he covered her straining throat, her chest, and her small swollen breasts with kisses. He buried his lips in the hollow of her throat, growling low. “How you intoxicate me, my beautiful warrior woman,” he said in his deep voice. Then he gathered her up into his arms again and deposited her upon his bed.

Rhonwyn felt her heart thudding rapidly as he stood looking down at her. She did not love this man. Indeed he almost frightened her with his dark intensity, but something deep within her wanted him to continue onward. It would end in the terrifying act of coupling, she knew, but she still wanted to know everything he had to teach her, wanted his lips on her, wanted his hands that roused such feelings of utter roiling confusion inside of her.

He stared down on her for a moment before coming to lay by her side. She could have no idea of how beautiful she was with her perfumed breath coming in little gasps from between her sweet ripe lips. She did not know how exquisite her body was, silently inviting, almost wanton in her unrealized need to be loved by him. He lay his dark head upon her breasts. “Your heart beats so swiftly,” he said to her.

“I am afraid, yet not afraid,” she told him.

“Remember, I will not harm you, my lovely Noor. I will only love you and give you joy.”

“I trust you, my lord caliph,” she said low.

He raised his head and leaned over to kiss her breast. Then his mouth closed over its nipple, and he suckled upon her.

She started nervously, but then she let herself enjoy the exciting sensation of his mouth and tongue upon her tender flesh. Her hand reached out to caress his dark hair. It was surprisingly soft to her touch and slightly curly. Her slender fingers entwined themselves in and out of the curls even as he began to worship her other breast in the same manner as the first. Edward had loved her breasts in this manner, too, but it had not seemed quite so exciting, more of a perfunctory thing.
Or was it that this was so forbidden?

His hands and mouth began to roam over her quivering body as his tongue had earlier. His hunger was building, even if his instincts warned him to move slowly. Her belly was taut beneath his mouth; the insides of her thighs were as soft as the finest Cathay silk. Her own fragrance filled his nostrils. Unable to prevent himself from doing so, he kissed her mons, then slowly ran his tongue down the pouting slash that hid the gates to paradise and all of her most precious treasures.

Rhonwyn shuddered at the touch of his tongue that now began to probe at her innermost secrets. His fingers gently drew her nether lips apart, holding them in a firm grip as his tongue caressed the flesh within. She felt his tongue acutely, particularly when it touched a most sensitive part of her. The tongue worried and worried at her. She felt a building of sensation within. Edward had touched her there, but always with his finger. The caliph's tongue was far more exciting. Rhonwyn gasped as the first distinct feeling of pleasure swept over her.
“Oh!”
she cried, and shuddered hard. The tongue persisted, and she again was overwhelmed, crying out once more as she reveled in the sweetness that engulfed her.

“You see,” his voice came to her through the mists, “you can feel pleasure, my beautiful Noor.” He slowly pushed two fingers into her love channel, drawing them slowly back and forth, arousing her so that she would be ready to receive him. Carefully he began to cover her body with his, and then it happened.

Rhonwyn's eyes opened, yet they were sightless.
“No!”
she cried out, her voice filled with utter terror.
“No!”

He ceased in his actions, quickly taking her back into his arms although his manhood felt as if it were going to burst. “What is it, Noor? What is frightening you so? Tell me, my beauty.
Tell me!
”

“He is hurting her! Oh, please, stop! Don't hurt my mam!”

Her words astounded him, but Rashid al Ahmet knew that the mind was a powerful weapon that could be used for good or evil; that could hide secrets and affect behavior in the most ordinary people. “Who is hurting your mother, Noor?” he asked her in kindly tones.

“I do not know him, but his garb is rich. He has come to our cottage. Mam is very afraid, yet he will not let her be! He calls her a whore and forces her to couple with him. He is hurting her! He is hurting her! Go away! Go away! Mam says our father must not know what has happened. She is bleeding. Don't weep, Mam. Don't weep!” There were tears on Rhonwyn's face now. “Mam says I mustn't let any man do to me what he has done to her. I must fight them! I'll be a good girl, Mam. I'll be strong for us both. The prince will never know. 'Tis our secret, Mam.
Our secret.
”