The Harem Master (6 page)

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Authors: Megan Derr

Tags: #LGBTQ romance, Fantasy, Tavamara

BOOK: The Harem Master
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"Mm," Ihsan agreed, pushing away his food. "Speaking of removing kings, I think it is time for bed, so we are well-rested for the first of many battles."

"Oh, we're not sleeping yet," Kitt muttered.

Before Ihsan could reply his lap was occupied, a hungry mouth on his, tasting of honey and bitter wine. "Kitt—" He gave up when Kitt just kissed him harder. Turning away from the table, Ihsan pushed Kitt to the floor and kissed him until he whimpered. Drawing back, Ihsan quickly got rid of their clothes, then dragged Kitt to his knees and pulled them flush together, attacking those full, hungry lips again, this time not stopping when Kitt's whimpers filled the air.

He smiled against Kitt's mouth when the whimpers turned to moans and drew back to look at Sabah, pressed up against Kitt's side and mouthing lazily at his skin as his long, clever fingers prepared Kitt's hole. Ihsan dragged his tongue across Kitt's mouth, then swiped playfully at his cheek. "Troublemaker."

"I make it worth your while," Kitt replied, fingers skating along his skin, stuttering as he groaned. His head tipped back as he tried to ride Sabah's finger.

Ihsan helped himself to the stretch of bare skin above the gleaming necklace, dragging his teeth across it, then retracing his path with his tongue. He slid one hand down Kitt's lithe, tight body to wrap fingers around the hard, flushed, wet-tipped cock. "True. I do like troublemakers, especially when they are trembling and desperate."

Kitt let out a ragged huff of laughter. "How convenient for me."

Glancing at Sabah, who nodded and moved away after pressing a parting kiss to the soft skin below Kitt's ear, Ihsan pushed Kitt to the floor again. Spreading Kitt's legs wide, angling his hips up, Ihsan lined up his cock and slowly pushed in. Kitt moaned, pupils wide when he opened his eyes, sweat making his hair stick to his skin. He reached out and gripped Ihsan's shoulder, pulled him down. "More," he ordered and wrapped his legs around Ihsan's hips.

Normally Ihsan loved to make him suffer, loved to keep Kitt needy and desperate, listen to him mewl, whimper, beg. More than once they'd tied Kitt up, made certain he couldn't come, and fucked him in turns until they had nothing left. Only then would they let him come, and he came apart so beautifully that he spent the rest of the day sleeping.

Ihsan was too impatient at present, however, to do more than fuck him hard and fast, pounding him into the soft rug until Kitt screamed his name, clinging so hard his nails left indentations in Ihsan's skin. A few minutes later Ihsan followed him, burying his face in the hollow of Kitt's neck as he shuddered through his climax.

When he finally had the energy to pull away, he slumped against the table and yawned. "It is not my father who will kill me in the end, I think."

"As if we would ever kill you when making you suffer is so much more fun," Haluk replied and held out a hand.

Ihsan took it and let Haluk haul him to his feet. He slid one arm loosely around Haluk's waist, leaning up to kiss him lazily before letting Haluk drag him over to the enormous bed positioned against the back wall right in the center of the room. Layers of sheer drapes surrounded the bed, hanging from the ceiling a few paces out, hiding it from the rest of the room. The open archways on the far side of the room, leading into his private garden, would let in plenty of morning light. It had irritated Ihsan when he was younger, but he had since found there were worse ways to wake up than to sunshine in his face.

After the shrapnel that had nearly killed him, had forever ruined his face and much of his body, he was grateful to wake up to anything at all.

He stretched out in the middle of the bed and did not bother to open his eyes as Sabah settled in next to him. Ihsan simply draped one arm over him and pushed a leg between Sabah's. Kitt settled down on Sabah's other side, and Haluk settled against Ihsan's back.

Safe, warm, and sated, he let sleep have him.

He stirred sometime later to the sound of someone moving quietly around the room. It took only a glance to confirm Kitt had woken up. "One of these days you will learn to sleep the whole night through." Kitt did not reply, but Ihsan did not need light to see his wry smile. "Let me walk with you."

"That's not safe."

"Leaving you to wander around alone is far more dangerous, mostly to the rest of the palace." Ihsan disentangled himself from Haluk and Sabah, pushed through the gauzy curtains and went to one of the chests pushed up against the wall. Lighting a candle, he quickly found clothes and closed the chest, setting the candle and clothes on top of it. He pulled on black pants that were loose at the thigh but snug everywhere else, soft slippers, and a black, well-fitted sleeveless shirt. He then pulled on the sleeves, which connected at the back and front with small, hidden catches. The ends covered his knuckles with a loop for his thumb. Finally he tied a large green sash around his waist, the tasseled ends falling to just above his knees. He slipped two small, poisoned daggers into the folds. His hair he pulled back into a knot at the back of his head, securing it with a long, sharp pin decorated with emeralds and pearls.

Kitt snickered softly, the sound echoing quietly through the room. "I've only ever set one palace into a state of panic. It's not my fault the wrong person found the body."

"You are a concubine now, not an assassin."

"A snake is a snake."

"Well, you're a pet snake, then, not a wild snake. Come on, my pretty little viper." They padded out of the room and into the hall, where Ihsan turned right and headed away from the private areas to the public portions of the palace. "Once we've had time to settle and the novelty of my being back has worn off, I will show you and the others the secret passages. They lead through the whole palace and offer two ways in and out."

Kitt scowled. "Secret passages are stupid. Do you know how many people I've killed by way of secret passages?"

"You've mentioned it before, once or twice." Ihsan's mouth ticked up at one corner. "But I'm not getting rid of them. I don't think it's possible, even if I wanted to."

Kitt huffed but let the matter rest. Ihsan drew to a halt as they reached one of his favorite rooms. It was a gathering room, large enough for thirty or so people to mingle comfortably. The center was taken over by a pool deep enough to reach his knees, filled with lazily swimming fish and bright flowers floating along the top.

"Where does a desert country come by so much water?"

"The baths come from hot springs piped here from the hills where they're located. The drinking water and such are fed by an underground river," Ihsan replied. "People think the city was built here because of the coast, but the coast was merely a bonus. There's an enormous underground river that comes all the way from the mountains and dumps into the sea. We pull water up from it. These decorative pools come from the sea, however."

"That's a lot of pipework."

Ihsan shrugged. "I admit I do not know well how it all works. I was given rudimentary knowledge, but mostly what I learned was to leave it to the people who understand and maintain it. Haluk knows much more, but I am sure that does not come as a surprise."

Kitt snickered. Haluk might be a soldier by trade, and a concubine by choice, but he was endlessly fascinated—obsessed with—engineering, mechanics, and other such sciences. He was forever reading and talking about things that Ihsan only vaguely followed. Though he always enjoyed listening, because Haluk was rarely so animated.

Leaving the gathering room, Ihsan continued the tour through the public places and into the restricted areas, pointing out living quarters, meeting halls, offices, dining rooms, and the library. They paused outside it, as Ihsan explained, "Once it was much larger than this, but my great grandfather wanted more room for his harem. He had a record seventy-six concubines. So the library was largely packed away and sent off to the archives, and what remained was put here."

"That's unfortunate. Who in the world really needs seventy-six concubines?"

Ihsan shook his head. "I do not know. That was never how it was meant to be. It is one of the many things I hope to fix." He gestured down the hall. "This way is the Jeweled Garden, also simply called the harem hall. Do I need to ban you from it, or can I trust you to leave Lord Demir in peace?"

Kitt cast him a look. "The real question is can any of us be trusted to behave around him. Do not think any of us missed the
I want you naked and spread open
look you were giving him. Though to be fair, I do not think his thoughts were any more proper."

Ihsan curled his fingers inward to avoid touching his scars. He seriously doubted anyone found him attractive, especially not a man like Demir, breathtakingly beautiful and constantly surrounded by beauty. Only Ihsan's men and Euren still found him attractive, and that was different. Save for Kitt, they'd loved him before war had ruined his face and much of his body. And Kitt had scars of his own, even if they weren't the visible kind. Ihsan shivered as memories washed over him: darkness, hot sand, and the sound of an explosion before his body was struck by countless shards of glass and metal. "I think even if that were true, he is smart enough to keep his distance."

"Maybe. So what does being a harem master entail, exactly? Other than the obvious… which, well, I don't even know that much, really. He babysits concubines and makes us look pretty?"

Ihsan laughed so hard he was forced to stop walking and lean against a wall to brace himself, pressing the back of one hand to his mouth to muffle the noise, the other clutching at his aching sides.

Grinning, Kitt crowded in close, forced him upright, and kissed him softly. "Always prettiest when you laugh, lomista." He nuzzled Ihsan's cheek. "No amount of scarring changes that. I promise Lord Demir was looking at you with pure want."

"Enough," Ihsan said. He had a sister to mourn and a father to depose; he did not need the distraction of inappropriate lust.

Kitt drew back, dragging his fingers lightly down Ihsan's chest. "I like the way you look in palace clothes. You need to fuck me while you wear this."

Gripping Kitt's biceps, Ihsan drew him back in close. He sucked on Kitt's bottom lip, dug his teeth into it, and then slowly pulled away only to dip back for a proper kiss that left them both panting. "Whatever you want, but not out here."

"We'll work up to that." Kitt pushed away, took his hand, and squeezed it briefly before letting go and gesturing down the hall. "So tell me of the harem master and what he does beyond make me hard."

"The harem masters are charged with the care, protection, and training of the concubines."

Kitt made a strangled noise. "Training?"

Ihsan grinned. "Yes, training. Not the training you're thinking of… well, not very often, anyway. Harem masters are thoroughly trained in the erotic arts since they must know and understand anything a king or queen might desire. Usually they appoint other concubines to do the hands-on training, though they've been known to do it themselves where necessary. Some monarchs are extremely particular about who touches their concubines."

"So if you wanted me to learn something new but didn't have the time or inclination to do the teaching yourself, you would appoint him to see to my instruction?"

"Yes, but you can stop contriving plots. If there is anyone who can best him for erotic knowledge, it's you," Ihsan replied, shaking his head when Kitt grinned. Ihsan reached up to trace those pretty lips with his thumb. "That's not the only training he oversees, and it's probably the duty he performs least. Mostly he sees to it they know how to entertain and how to behave when they are attending the king or queen. That is the main duty of the concubines, after all: to sit with us in meetings, feed us at banquets, attend our every little whim and desire while we attend matters of the kingdom. Concubines are a display of perfect loyalty and adoration. Why would you choose a life of pleasing me if you did not adore me absolutely?"

A pity that philosophy had become lost somewhere along the way.

"Because you adore us far more," Kitt said quietly. "I did not know such was possible until you."

"I think we've taught each other plenty. You kept me sane in that place." He pulled Kitt in, hugged him tightly, letting the warmth and comfort push away the dark memories that wanted so desperately to feed on him. Kitt stroked and petted him, clever fingers so gentle though Ihsan knew well how deadly they could be.

After a few minutes, Kitt said, "So does he do anything else? It seems such a strange post, but then again, I know nothing of harems. I'm used to answering only to you. I'm not sure I would take it well, all jesting aside, if you charged him with babysitting me."

"I wouldn't put you under his charge unless it was a matter of protection or some scheme we were playing out. I am much more interested in seeing if we can make him our ally. They say if you want to know a secret, ask the harem master. They are privy to all of them. In many respects, harem masters know the monarchs better than even the steward and council. They also know much about the rest of the court. It is not unusual—is in fact common practice—for the harem master to be an understanding ear, even a consultant, to any in the palace who require assistance or advice in regards to intimate matters."

"He's a sex expert for the whole palace? I guess he would be, looking like that."

Ihsan pinched him. "Behave. He looks like that because he is proud of what he does. Would you trust Captain Fatih if he looked more like a noble? Would you trust a merchant who looked a dancer? Why, then, would you trust a harem master who did not look his part?"

"Not arguing the logic, just commenting on how well he does his job."

"You are incorrigible."

"But not wrong."

Ihsan leaned down to quiet him with a kiss, but the sound of voices made them both go still. Kitt muttered something in Rittuen and moved quickly but silently as he pulled Ihsan down a side hallway.

They crouched down low to the floor, letting the shadows hide them as much as possible. Ihsan's mouth flattened as a hidden door swung open and two familiar figures stepped into the hall: Captain Fatih and Lord Demir.

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