The Harem Master (12 page)

Kitt's face softened as he leaned in to obey, his mouth sharp, eager, playful. Sabah kissed with refinement, Haluk with a mission, and Kitt as if they were playing a game. Ihsan moaned, lifted his head to taste more, press deeper, whining when Kitt drew back, withdrawing his fingers and leaving Ihsan empty.

He had barely drawn a breath, though, when Kitt's cock began to push inside him. Kitt licked Ihsan's lips, nibbled playfully, but never quite let Ihsan kiss him again. "Haven't been here in a while. Forgot how good you feel."

Ihsan started to speak, but it turned into a sharp gasp as Kitt abruptly thrust all the way inside, bit at the edge of his jaw at the same time.

"Distracted yet, Highness?" Kitt asked.

"Somewhat," Ihsan retorted.

Mouth slowly curving, eyes sharp and bright with mischief, Kitt drew back, braced his hands on either side of Ihsan, and began to fuck him exactly the way he kissed: like the game was on and he was determined to win. All the while Kitt pounded into him, Sabah and Haluk caressed and kissed, licked and bit, until Ihsan was struggling helplessly in their hold, sweaty and shaking and begging, the only thought in his head that it was all too much but not enough.

He snarled when Sabah grabbed him, tugged just so and kept him from coming. Before he could start threatening all their lives, though, Kitt kissed him hard enough to leave his lips throbbing, thrusting a last few times before he came.

Ihsan groaned as Kitt pulled out of him. He was still trying to get his breath back when Sabah took Kitt's place, the wrist he released immediately claimed by Kitt. Where Kitt had fucked him hard and quick, Sabah was slow and torturous, methodical as he was in all things. If there was a person alive who could break Sabah's patience, Ihsan never wanted to meet them. Growing up, Ihsan had spent most of his time with Asli and Euren. He'd known Sabah, gotten along with him whenever they were together… and found himself thoroughly seduced in the library one day by a slow, quiet, devastating patience that still knew how to leave him in pieces.

Sabah nibbled and licked gently at his bruised lips, not stopping until Ihsan whimpered his name. Only then did he draw back and push Ihsan's legs even further apart, stretching him nearly to the point of pain as Sabah drove into him over and over with hard, steady strokes.

At least that time Ihsan was allowed to come, panting heavily as Sabah fucked him through it.

Ihsan tried to form words when Sabah pulled out, but he was too boneless and well-fucked, could only lay there, pliant, as Haluk slid easily inside him. Ihsan had been humbled when Sabah had joined him when he had run away. They'd not expected to wake up the next morning to Haluk making them breakfast, bearing extra horses and plenty of supplies.

He had not expected it several months later when Sabah had challenged Haluk to stop hiding and admit how he felt, for the night to end with his lover and his bodyguard fucking him so thoroughly he could barely stay awake the next day.

They had risked much, sacrificed much, all three of them, to be his. He would always be theirs.

Ihsan groaned as Haluk fucked him hard and fast and deep, granting no mercy for the fact he'd already been fucked twice. They never did. He never wanted them to.

Haluk kept pushing, kept fucking. Kitt and Sabah held his arms. All he could do was writhe and beg in their hold, dripping sweat, eyes stinging, body aching and exhausted, overstimulated and well-used. Someone wrapped a hand around his cock. Ihsan tried to protest, but it was lost in a wet, warm kiss that fucked his mouth as surely as Haluk fucked his hole.

Ihsan screamed as the touching and the fucking tipped him over the edge again, his release joining the mess he'd already made. Exhaustion washed over him, and he was only fuzzily aware as Haluk finished, the soft kiss pressed to his throbbing mouth.

He felt them move, heard voices, but dragging his eyes open was too difficult to be bothered with, and he succumbed happily to sleep.

The murmur of voices woke him to long shadows and lamp light. He sat up in bed, pushing his hair from his face. He was sore but satisfied, and felt more rested than he had in weeks. Throwing back the blankets, Ihsan rolled out of bed and to his feet, then pushed through the curtains.

Sabah, Haluk, and Kitt sat around the table playing one of the Rittuen card games Kitt had taught them while they were stuck in the sand. They looked up as one, smiled. "Good evening, Highness," Sabah said. "How are you feeling?"

"Well-fucked," Ihsan drawled, provoking snickers and smug looks. "When are we due at the banquet?"

"In about an hour," Haluk replied. "We were going to wake you after we finished this hand."

Ihsan sighed. "I wish it was already over with. Where are my clothes?" He ran a hand over his stomach, smiling faintly that someone had cleaned him while he slept. Sabah, likely. "And thank you." He smiled at all of them, face going warm at the fond looks they gave him.

Rising smoothly to his feet, Sabah went to the trunks where a stack of clothes waited. Ihsan yawned and stretched, then joined him, pulling on underclothes, followed by the loose black pants Sabah held out, the bottom and sides embroidered with gold and silver vines. A snug-fitting, sleeveless gold shirt went on next, falling to his hips and decorated at the bottom with pearls, diamonds, and rubies. Last came a stiff black jacket that stopped midway down his chest, the clasps, sleeves, and cuffs decorated with more precious jewels.

Sabah braided his hair and pinned it into a knot at the back of his head with jeweled pins and handed over ruby and diamond studs that Ihsan put in his ears himself. Last he stepped into red slippers just visible beneath the hem of his pants.

He reached up with his right hand to touch the scars on his face, scarred left hand curling into a fist at his side. He was tempted to have Sabah hide them, but he was what he was, and he did not feel like spending his life hiding. Letting his hand fall, he asked, "Do I look like a prince?"

"Yes, and quite edible," Kitt replied. He cackled and threw down his cards, then pointed a finger, palm up, at Haluk. "I win the pot. I'll collect later."

Haluk made a face. "I do not know why I bother to play with you."

"You like me demanding sexual favors," Kitt replied. Haluk did not bother to reply, nor protest when Kitt tackled him to the floor to kiss him thoroughly.

Rolling his eyes, Sabah clapped his hands until they looked up. "Time to get dressed."

"Can we recall the Harem Master to assist us?" Kitt asked, mouth curving in a mischievous smile.

"Recall?" Ihsan asked. "What do you mean?"

Haluk nodded to a pile of fabric and several small cases of jewelry. "He stopped by earlier with a couple of concubines to deliver finery for the banquet and to ensure personally that we needed nothing further. He was dressed for his performance tonight." A small smile stole over Haluk's mouth, a familiar heat flashing in his eyes before Haluk banked it. That certainly made Ihsan more than a little eager to see Demir.

"Performance?" Kitt asked. He mimicked the reproving look Sabah gave him but climbed off Haluk and helped him to his feet before they both wandered over to their waiting clothes. "I thought he was just in charge of the concubines, that he didn't do anything like that himself." He stripped off the skirt and pants he was wearing and pulled on the set made of a lighter, faintly shimmery fabric decorated at the hips and ankles with gold and silver vines that matched Ihsan's pants. He left his hair down but threaded it with ruby beads to match the string of them at his throat and another around his waist. "Tell me."

"Lord Demir only performs on special occasions, such as coronations, weddings, and of course the crown prince coming back to life." Haluk fastened gold cuffs at his wrists and upper arms and a string of rubies around his throat that matched those worn by Kitt and Sabah. "The last time he did a fire dance was the queen's birthday, at her special request. The last fire dance performed at all was by Lord Demir's mother when she retired as Harem Master."

Sadness cut through Ihsan like a jagged knife. "I remember that dance—Lord Demir's, I mean. Mother died four months later. I confess I did not pay much attention to the dancing. I wish I had. I always assumed she would get better, and the banquet was just one in a thousand. I do not even remember what did have my attention that night."

Haluk gave a soft snort. "You and Lady Asli were making sad eyes at Euren while Sabah made sad eyes at you."

Chuckling, Sabah said, "I was so proud of myself for being stoic and giving nothing away. It really should have occurred to me that Ihsan was the only one oblivious and everyone else was just being polite."

"There was frequent debate about whether you would remain a friend or become a concubine," Haluk said. "A few bets were placed when your parents weren't around."

Ihsan and Sabah rolled their eyes. "I hope whatever money they made from us they lost betting on Asli and Euren."

Haluk laughed. "I have no doubt. Nobody anticipated that, though you did not make it very easy to hide your affair with Euren."

"I'm sorry, Haluk. I never made it easy for you, did I?"

"What's done is done. I am glad all ended well."

Ihsan closed the short distance between them, splayed his hands on Haluk's chest, and leaned up to kiss him. "Very well, indeed, bodyguard."

"Mm, not a very good one, to lose my focus," Haluk said, resting a hand on the small of Ihsan's back. "But I'm not terribly sorry." He kissed Ihsan softly then let go and stepped back. "Cease distracting me, Highness, or we will be late."

"I can't be late for my banquet," Ihsan replied, but he let them finish getting ready. He might not have been all that pleasant to look at anymore, but nobody would notice anyway because his harem was breathtaking.

By the time they were ready, the hour had nearly passed. Walking to the door, Ihsan stood back while Sabah opened it. Four guards stood waiting in the hallway to serve as a formal escort. Ihsan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Despite the past few days of work and frustration, he'd felt more like a soldier than a prince. This felt very much like he was truly stepping back into his royal role. He hoped he was ready for it.

Nodding to the guards, Ihsan let them and the harem surround him, walking in the center of the protective cluster as they traveled through the palace halls to the Sunburst Pavilion.

It was already full when he arrived, the buzz of conversation fading off as he appeared, his escort parting so he could lead the way to the main table where his father, Bulut and his daughter, Irmak, and a handful of concubines already sat. Four ambassadors were also at the king's table: Lord Jove of Havarin, Lord Tessel of Gollen, Lady Myre of Tritacia, and Lord Setter of Rittu. He had met them all briefly two nights ago but had not encountered them since.

Hopefully they knew how to relax and leave off politics for a little while. Ihsan did not want to spend his welcome home banquet mired in sticky politics. The risk of assassination was more than enough tension to handle.

Reaching the table, Ihsan turned and faced the room. "Thank you for coming tonight to join me in celebrating that I have at long last returned to my sorely missed home. It is humbling to be so warmly received by the people I let down. I hope in my return I prove to be a better prince than I was when I left. Eat, drink, and be at peace." He bowed to them, and all raised dishes of wine to him, cheering his name and words of congratulations.

Taking his seat, Ihsan gratefully sipped the wine Sabah offered, a sweet, light wine that tasted faintly of apples and honey. He glanced at his father, bowing his head low. The king grunted and flicked his fingers but did not turn from the conversation he was having with Bulut.

Ihsan flicked his gaze to Bulut's daughter, who must be… nineteen or so? She looked close to being properly of age, at any rate. She smiled hesitantly at him, then looked down at her food and wine. Rather mean of her father not to bring a friend along for her. It was miserable being so young at a table full of so many older, self-important people.

He took another sip of wine, lingering over it and sharing a look with Sabah, whose eyes were sharp and shrewd as always.

Sabah brushed Ihsan's cheek with his lips, nuzzled along until he reached Ihsan's ear. "I believe, Highness, that you are looking at a possible future stepmother."

Anger coiled through Ihsan at the words, but given she was a young woman sitting alone with only two concubines between her and the king… yes, that was very likely. She was five or six years younger than Ihsan, not quite or only just come of age, but he could see his father agreeing to that.

Given Ihsan's behavior, his defiance, absence, and the tension between him and his father, he could see his father taking a new queen and begetting a new heir. Ihsan would not be the first crown prince declared unsuitable to make way for the child of a second or even third wife.

So much for a relaxing banquet, but it was not as though his hopes had been stronger than gossamer. He held Sabah still with a finger curled beneath his chin, kissed him soft and lingering. He could feel the stares, but ignored them. If he made the foreigners uncomfortable, that was their problem.

Drawing back, he helped himself to the food on the table, pausing periodically as Sabah and Kitt offered up sips of wine. Haluk sat on Kitt's other side, right at the corner, the other side of it reserved for Demir.

All around them torches and lanterns were lit, flooding the darkening pavilion with light. A few minutes later the music faded off, and the soft crash of muffled cymbals heralded the start of the entertainment.

The performances started strong, with a set of duelists who went one-on-one, working up to an eventual 'battle' of five against five. They moved with a grace and fluidity that only endless hours of training could instill. Ihsan clapped loudly when they were done and made certain they were sent plenty of good wine to enjoy.

Acrobats and jugglers were next, followed by a woman he remembered from his mother's harem, who still sang so beautifully the entire pavilion, guests and servants, paused to listen. When she had finished, and the third course had been brought, the main doors opened. Lord Demir stepped through and walked with measured footsteps to the center of the pavilion.