The Love Slave (50 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: The Love Slave
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“My former lovers were men of breeding and culture,” she answered him bluntly. “They did not come to my bed with foul breath and dirty faces.”

“We will bathe together every day from now on,” he promised her. “And when I capture Alcazaba Malina, you will live in a palace, as I have already promised you. I will fill your bath with sweet oils of all fragrances, which we will enjoy together.”

Zaynab said nothing, but she did favor him with a small smile.
She concentrated upon bathing him. She wanted to draw out the process for as long as she could. Surely the moon must be close to dropping behind the hills by now. Slowly, deliberately, she took up her cloth, lavishly spread soap upon it, and washed his barrel-like chest with its tangle of matted black hair. The soap foamed amid the wiry growth, and his nipples seemed to glow a deep rose. Carefully, she rinsed the soap away. She washed an arm, a hand, and pared his nails. She laundered his other arm and hand, trimming its nails. Turning him about, she gently scrubbed his hairy back, rinsing the soap scum from him with her cloth and generous amounts of water that she splashed on him.

“You must stand upon the bath stool, Ali Hassan, for I must wash what you now hide beneath the water in this tub.”

With a deep chuckle he moved to obey her. She would get a surprise when he climbed upon the stool. His member was already well roused, and hard as a rock.

Zaynab ignored the obscene length of flesh as it bobbed out of the water. She slathered soap up one leg, scrubbing diligently, and pressed gently at a spot behind his knee, watching with hidden amusement as his manhood shriveled away. This was something Karim had taught her long ago; something she had never thought she would have need for, until now. She continued to work quietly, bathing his other leg, his buttocks, his belly, his groin.

Boldly she cupped the twin orbs within his pouch. “ ’Tis a fine pair you possess, Ali Hassan,” she told him. “They’ll be well milked by the time we’re through.” She had noted that he enjoyed it when she spoke boldly to him. Her little hand soaped his rod teasingly, holding him lightly, stroking him up and down. She could feel him beginning to harden once more. Quickly she rinsed him, managing to reach around and press the secret spot again in order to deflate his lust.

“Now,” she said, “you are clean, and must wash me, Ali Hassan, before we exit our bath. Here is a clean cloth for you to use.”

He worked carefully to mimic her motions while she instructed him gently. He could not tear his eyes from her
lovely breasts as he washed them. He couldn’t help biting at her neck, nibbling on her earlobes. His hand could not restrain rubbing itself most suggestively between the twin halves of her bottom. His fingers found themselves pushing into her tight passage.

She scolded him with a mixture of amusement and scorn. “Are you a little boy that you cannot be patient, Ali Hassan?” She led him from the tub and handed him a piece of toweling. “Dry me quickly so I may attend properly to you,” she said. “I will have no silliness, Ali Hassan, else I become angry with you. Then I shall be unable to concentrate upon all the delights that only a Love Slave may give to her lover.”

Chastened, he dried her without further provocation.

Where in the name of the seven djinns was Iniga, Zaynab thought as she took up a fresh towel and began to dry him off. It seemed ages since she had entered Ali Hassan’s tent. She had lingered over his bath, trying to make the time go by. If Iniga didn’t fire the tents soon, Zaynab realized, she would have no choice but to couple with this man. Well, at least he was clean now, and dry. She could procrastinate no longer.

“Come,” she said, taking his hand, leading him into his sleeping space. “I have had the women make you a new mattress, Ali Hassan. It is filled with fresh grass and sweet herbs. Lie down upon it, and I will administer to you.”

He lay upon his back, and to his surprise, she stood over him, straddling him, looking down on his prostrate form. Reaching up, she pulled the pins from her magnificent hair, and it tumbled down about her like a shining golden cloak. She fluffed it, smiling. Seductively she drew her nether lips apart, saying, “Do you see my little jewel, Ali Hassan?” and when he nodded openmouthed and wide-eyed, she continued. “Tonight I will teach you how to make it glow with happiness,
and when I am happy
, I shall make you
very
happy.” His heart hammered violently in his chest at the sight of the moist coral flesh, at her bold, suggestive words.

Now she squatted, crouching over him. He could scarcely breathe in his excitement. This was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and she was all his. A gasp ached in his
burning throat as her pointed little tongue began to lick at his flesh. Fascinated, his eyes followed her as she carefully laved every inch of him from his straining throat down to his feet When she commanded him to roll over, he immediately did so. The warm wetness of the tongue bath was extremely exciting.

A little moan escaped him as she first licked at his buttocks, then nipped them. Hatiba had never been such a lover. Oh, she had done whatever he had desired of her, but it had certainly not been like
this
. He couldn’t even remember her face now. Hatiba had served her purpose even more than she realized. Had he not killed the unfaithful bitch, and all the others, the caliph would not have sent that ineffectual Hasdai ibn Shaprut to hunt him down, bringing Zaynab with him, Ali Hassan thought

She sat upon his buttocks now, the weight of her peach-shaped bottom pressing suggestively into him. Her nails raked slowly down his back over and over again. It felt exciting, and at the same time irritating. Then she lay stretched out atop him. He could feel the tenderness of her belly and her breasts. She pushed his legs wide with her own.

“Do you know what I’m doing?” she whispered in his ear, licking the interior, blowing softly, and then biting gently upon the fleshy lobe. “My right hand is seeking between my nether lips, Ali Hassan. Ahh, it has found what it desires. Ummmm. As I lie with my body covering yours, I shall pleasure myself. You cannot see me doing it. You can only feel the movements and imagine what is happening. Ohh, yess! Ohhhh! Ohhhh!” Her movements were becoming more frenzied atop him, and then she moaned low, “Ahhhhhhh, yes!”


Bitch!
” he snarled. “I’m going to fuck you now!”

“If you should even attempt it,” she shot back, “you will know nothing of the pleasures I can give you. You are behaving like a little child, Ali Hassan. Can you not be patient with me? I have had a whole seven days to plan the delights I shall share with you tonight. This is just the beginning.” He felt her weight removed from him. “Turn over once more,” she said.

When he had, she straddled him once again, but this time he could see her face, and her magnificent body. Leaning forward
so that her breasts hung temptingly above his face, she reached out for something. His tongue snaked out to lick frantically at her nipples, and she giggled.

“You are a very naughty boy,” she told him archly. “Raise your hands above your head, Ali Hassan. I am going to lightly bind you. I know you aren’t afraid of me,” she said, seeing his slightly startled look even as he raised his arms above his head in response to her request. She tied his wrists together first, and then turning about so that her buttocks were facing him, she had him open his knees, and bound his ankles together. “If you find yourself becoming apprehensive, Ali Hassan, just tell me, and I will loose you,” she said, reversing herself again.

Her words touched his very masculinity. He was certainly not comfortable being so helpless, but he would have rather died than admitted it to anyone, let alone a woman. Instead he grinned up at her. “I eagerly await the special passion that only you can give me, Zaynab,” he said, but his chest was suddenly tight with his nervousness, and drawing breath was difficult. He shifted himself slightly, relieved to find that his bonds were not really secure. If he struggled hard, they would release.

Where in the name of Allah was Iniga? Zaynab wondered even as she sat herself high on Ali Hassan’s chest, leaning forward to slowly brush her full breasts across his face. “Inhale my special female scent,” she commanded him in a husky voice. Then moving a little farther up, she pressed her mont directly over his mouth, even as her hand reached back to grasp his shaft.

He was absolutely frozen with his excitement. The feel of her fleshy mont pressing down so intimately upon him, the touch of her hand on his manhood. She was doing nothing more now than holding him firmly; yet it sent the blood roaring into his head, which throbbed. When she murmured the words “
Kiss me
,” he could scarcely contain himself. His lips pressed themselves against her moist flesh as she rewarded him with a little murmur of what he was positively certain was pleasure. Emboldened, he pushed his tongue from his mouth, trying desperately to lick at her. In response she turned herself again so
that he might have full access to her mont while she began to stimulate his manhood.

She was kindling emotions in him such as he had never before felt. Each time he thought himself ready to explode with his lust, she would ease back, her fingers brushing him delicately. His tongue worked feverishly to rouse her to the same plateau, but although she plainly enjoyed these attentions—at least the sounds she made implied that she did—she did not for a single moment lose her mastery of their situation. He was filled with admiration for her even as his hot lust was rising to the boiling point. She had both his manhood and his mouth so occupied he could scarcely bear it, and yet she knew that he did. When her lips closed over his throbbing shaft, he moaned. Reaching back, she placed her palm over his mouth. Frantically he licked at it with his tongue, desperate to taste her again.

She had found her rhythm now, and she did not allow it to abate. Several times she forced his hunger back, easing off, tightening him up with her mouth and tongue when he began to falter. Then she grasped him firmly in her hand again, using several quick strokes which she alternated with slow, teasing strokes. She felt the man beneath her aching in sweet frustration. She knew she was going to have to put him out of his misery before he tired and lost his desire. That would only anger him. Zaynab knew that Ali Hassan’s pride could be pushed just so far. Taking her hand from his mouth, she turned herself about. The man beneath her was pale, his face dappled with beads of perspiration.

Smiling down into his face, Zaynab lowered herself slowly upon his great shaft. His was the largest manhood she had ever taken in. He filled her full. When he was completely encased within her sheath, she pressed her muscles together, squeezing his shaft in her love grip. Ali Hassan’s black eyes actually bulged from his head. He opened his mouth and howled with the violent pleasure she was giving him. It was certain everyone in camp heard him.

Then suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head, there was a rattle of sound from his open mouth, and he collapsed beneath her. Zaynab was astounded, but at that same moment she heard
cries of “
Fire!
” echoing through the camp. Zaynab leapt from her victim, yanked the cords from his wrists and ankles, then straddled him once again.

One of Ali Hassan’s men ran into the tent. Seeing his master thus, he flushed.

“Get out!” Zaynab commanded him. “My lord Ali Hassan says you should handle the situation, as he is otherwise engaged.” Then she leaned forward, kissing the man beneath her, wriggling her body and moaning, waiting as she listened for the underling to leave. When she was satisfied he had, she arose again, staring down at Ali Hassan. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Leaning over, she put her ear to his heart, and heard nothing. He was certainly dead. Carefully, she drew his arms down so that he would look more natural. Then she pulled a coverlet over him. Hopefully, with all the chaos outside, they would not discover him dead until the morning, by which point the Nasi and his Saqalibah would have arrived. She dared not fire this tent now, else the bandits come running to rescue their master. Zaynab pulled her caftan on, dimmed the lamps, and slipped from the tent.

Outside she discovered that half the camp was well afire. Ali Hassan’s people were frantically running back and forth from the nearby stream in their desperate attempts to put out the flames. No one paid the least bit of attention to her as she sidled back into her own little tent.


I did it!
” Iniga’s blue eyes were triumphant.

“And very well too,” Zaynab responded, hugging her. “Ali Hassan is dead, Iniga. I think, perhaps, we had best put on our cloaks and slip away into the darkness while we can. The caliph’s men should be here sometime soon, but if we must wait until dawn, it would be better if we were hidden away from here. Ali Hassan’s men may discover him before the Nasi arrives, and hold me responsible.”


You killed him? How?
” Iniga’s eyes were wide with surprise.

“He killed himself with his overanticipation to possess me, I think,” Zaynab said. “I played an innocent little game with him, keeping him well occupied until you had completed your
mission, but you took so long, Iniga. Finally I had no choice but to sheathe him within my body. His excitement was so great at that point that his black heart gave out. It was far too easy a death for such a terrible man.” She picked up her cloak. “Come, Iniga. We must flee now.” But as Iniga reached for her own cape, noises of a different sort came from outside their tent.

They heard the sound of horses’ hooves, the shouts of men, the screams of women, running feet, clanging weapons. The two young women looked at one another, and Iniga said fearfully, “What if the fire has attracted some other bandit, and not my brother?”

For a moment a band of fear wrapped itself about Zaynab’s heart, but then her common sense prevailed. “I doubt there is another bandit in these hills right now, Iniga. Remember, the caliph’s men have been searching for us almost two weeks.” She took her friend’s hand. “Let us step outside and see. We should welcome our rescuers.”

Karim saw her as she stepped from the little tent. He saw his sister by her side.
Zaynab was safe!
He called to two of his men to ride across the camp to protect the women from further harm.

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