“All right, princess,” he said. His hands rested on her slim thighs and his eyes fell down to her legs spread slightly, her pussy glistened and ready for his taking.
She saw him. She knew he had seen her wet pussy.
“No,” she said. She shook her head.
He smiled. Tonight she would be his.
“I only want a kiss. That’s all,” he whispered.
“No. You’re a master seducer. You play at words.” She shook her head.
His eyes wandered over her mouth and his hands pressed her thighs apart. His finger delved into her tightness and he closed his eyes. She was so very tight and wet, and her walls rippled around his finger, holding it tight.
“Your mouth, princess. Give me your mouth,” he commanded. Mohammed watched as she tried to shake her head. Then, he pressed her back, covering her body with his.
His mouth took hers and his tongue probed her mouth deeper and deeper. As his tongue probed her mouth, his finger sank into her tightness. He could feel her hymen and knew she would be his.
Katharine’s head spun. She couldn’t concentrate and could only feel. He was the devil. She knew it.
“Spread your thighs for me, princess,” he whispered into her ear. She trembled. His words were so sinful and delicious at the same time.
She let him spread her thighs apart as he eased himself between them. She was slim and feminine and he felt powerful and in control. Her hands were shaking as she brought her hands into his thick hair.
His cock bounced and lengthened as he thought of her tight walls around him. He moved her body against his and she fit into him perfectly. Katharine arched into him again and moaned into his mouth as his lips touched hers.
Mohammed stopped her hips from moving.
“Tell me no, princess. I’ll not have you crying rape tomorrow. Tell me now and this ends.”
She shook her head almost violently.
“No, please don’t stop. I have to feel you inside me. I want to be yours,” she sighed. She didn’t care about tomorrow; she only thought of tonight. She needed him. She knew she would have regrets and pain, but nothing mattered. The wine flowed in her veins and her inhibitions had left her. She wanted this proud man and nothing else mattered. She eased him to her.
He undressed quickly and lifted up her abaya over her head. She was in too great a need and so was he.
His hips were slim but masculine as she spread her legs for him willingly.
“Katharine,” he moaned. He breathed into her hair and she pressed into him.
“Please, Mohammed,” she whispered. He had never heard his name on the lips of a woman in the midst of sex and it was his undoing.
He pulled back and thrust into her hot little core. He broke her hymen and she cried out once but he soothed her with kisses. Her nails raked his back again and again as he knew they would. Her marks would claim him as her lover, just as her blood would stain his cock. They moved together and his hand grabbed her bottom, pulling her into him harder and with force. She moved her legs around his waist, holding him tightly to her.
“Oh God,” was all she could think of to say. She could feel his cock inside her, stuffing and filling her as the climax built. Mohammed could feel his climax building and pushed into her, watching her body jerk up and down as he moved inside her.
The tightness and the warmth proved to be too much; he spilled his cream into her womb, empting his seed again and again until he was complete.
He watched as Katharine gasped as he filled her and then rolled her on top of him. His arms brought her to him and he covered their bodies with a thick blanket. Her golden hair fanned about them. He smiled as she sank into a deep sleep.
***
Yasmeen had watched the two fuck like disgusting animals from the small, concealed room. She had watched her husband’s eyes as he made love to the little whore and the whore’s response. She had watched her husband spill his seed inside the woman as he had never done before with anyone but she, his wife. All of the whores were fed special foods to ensure no seed survived, but not the pale whore. Her husband’s seed was sure to grow and mature with the young beauty. She couldn’t allow a foreign whore to birth the next sheik.
She knew from the servant’s gossip that one particular visitor tonight seemed to know the white whore. Yasmeen turned on her heel. Perhaps she could get a message to him to take her away. If not, she would have the slut kidnapped and sold. Perhaps she could find the two pirates who had sold her to the sheik in the first place and sell her back. The whore’s days in the palace were numbered. She would be gone by the end of the week. Yasmeen swore this on Allah’s name.
Chapter 6
Katharine awoke with a headache that pounded against her temples. The wine that she had drunk last night had been sweeter and stronger than she was used to; because she had eaten nothing, it had gone straight to her head.