Bertrice Small - Zuleika and the Barbarian

Rafa smiled a sly smile. "So, whatever you wanted to do you have now accomplished. Will you tell me?"

"Not yet," Zuleika replied, "but I believe I have saved us all. Send a slave girl for Bahira. She is to say the princess desires her companionship today."

Rafa bowed, and then hurried off while Zuleika's mind wandered back to her barbarian lord. He was so very big. When she had laid her head upon his hairless chest, a clean male scent had assailed her nostrils. His skin was so beautiful, taut over his muscular arms and legs, but smooth and soft beneath her lips. Yet so very masculine. He reeked of brute strength, and power. It had frankly thrilled her. She could barely wait to find herself in his arms once again. Her longing was almost palpable, an suddenly restless, she arose from her bed. She shed the flimsy garment she had slept in, and walking through her bedchamber entered her private bathing room. Pouring a thin stream of a creamy liquid soap into a large sea sponge, she stepped into the shell-shaped indentation in the marble floor, and gave herself a quick wash. Her breasts tingled as she touched them, her nipples puckering. She laughed to herself, realizing that she had again been thinking of Amir Khan, and the big warm hand that had so gently cupped her breasts, each in its turn. Zuleika rinsed herself off beneath a stream of water pouring from the mouth of a goldfish spout. Then coming from the shell basin she stepped down into the warm, scented pool. She floated about, relaxed, her long black hair streaming behind her like dark seaweed.

Would he come today? she wondered. He was a barbarian, yet she believed he was intelligent enough to understand everything she had told him. Would he ask for the princess of Dariyabar for his wife, and not accept her as his concubine? She knew her visit to his encampment had surprised him, even as her direct speech had. He had been more than interested by the magic she possessed through the genie, Kansbar. Her upper teeth worried her lower lip. She wanted him to come today!

Zuleika heard Rafa returning from her errand with the meal, and, it was to be hoped, some useful gossip. She came forth from the perfumed pool, twisted the water from her heavy dark hair, and dried herself on a fine heavy drying cloth made of cotton imported from a land to the southwest. Wrapping the cloth about herself, and another about her head, she reentered her bedchamber saying as she came, "What news?"

"It is said that the barbarian comes into the city this afternoon beneath a flag of truce, my princess," Rafa replied, her eyes bright with her curiosity. "Did you have something to do with this?"

Zuleika smiled, but said nothing on the subject. Instead, she sat down and began eating the melon Rafa had placed upon the table. It was pale green in color, and exceedingly sweet. It almost melted in her mouth, caressing her throat as it slid down. She remembered the head of his manhood pressing against the back of her throat before she had relaxed her throat muscles, easing him deeper. She shuddered at the memory, wondering if all men's lances were as fleshy and as long as his had been. That was the difficulty with being both a princess and a virgin. So much more was expected of you than just an ordinary girl. Still Amir Khan would, she suspected, prove an excellent lover. He could not be otherwise. Finishing the melon, she reached for a small flaky crescent of bread that had been fried crisp, dipped in warm butter and honey, and then dusted with cinnamon. Wolfing it down she took another, and sipped from her goblet of pomegranate juice thoughtfully.

"What will you wear today?" Rafa demanded to know.

"Royal purple, or course," Zuleika said, "but I will not dress yet. When the barbarian is entering the city."

"The sultan has sent no word that he wishes you to be at this particular interview," Rafa answered her mistress.

"Nevertheless, I will be there. Do you think I want Haroun whispering in my father's ancient ear and ruining all my plans? Oh no! The princess of Dariyabar will be in the audience chamber when the barbarian enters it. My cousin may gnash his teeth, but my father will allow me to remain. He loves me in his own way, for I remind him of my dead mother. If Haroun attempts to thwart me, I need only bring up the memory of Jamila, and my father melts."

"You are a very wicked girl!" Rafa scolded her. "I do not know if your mother would approve of you at all."

"Perhaps she would not," Zuleika responded, "but Jamila is not here, and I am. I must do everything in my power to protect both Dariyabar, and myself."

"And the old sultan," Rafa said softly.

"My father is Dariyabar," Zuleika said. She arose from the table, and at that moment Bahira entered the princess's chamber.

"Good morning, Zuleika! I have come for all the gossip!" She plunked herself down upon a silk-covered sofa, eyes twinkling. "I had the most amazing sleep last night," she remarked innocently.

"Humph," Rafa remarked, and then she muttered, "Probably filled with lustful dreams too, Lady Bahira." She gathered up the dishes from the table, and placing them on a tray went off, saying as she shut the door to her mistress's apartments, "I will see what else I can learn."

"You slept well because Kansbar cast a spell over everyone but Amir Khan and me," Zuleika began. "I went to his encampment, for I had a proposal to offer him. He is coming into the city today beneath a flag of truce, but he will not accept me as his concubine. He will ask for me as his wife, Bahira! And you are to be married to his general, Sabola! If he is as gorgeous as Amir Khan you will never want to leave your bed. I am Amir Khan's key to Dariyabar. Together we will vanquish Haroun, and my father may continue to live out his final years in peace and prosperity. When he is gone, Amir Khan will be sultan here."

Bahira's blue eyes were thoughtful. "It seems a foolproof plan," she said slowly, "but what if Haroun objects? He is greedy and ruthless, and as we know, both cunning and resourceful. He might be willing to let me go to a barbarian as wife, but not you, I think."

"He will have no choice," Zuleika said smugly. "The barbarian lord does my father honor by offering to wed me, and not just accept me into his harem. Sultan Ibrahim is old, and he is forgetful, but his pride is still intact. I shall be in the audience chamber this afternoon, and you must be with me. I shall dress us both in the finest robes that I have, Bahira. We will impress the barbarians, for they have surely never seen our like."

"What is he like? Amir Khan," Bahira asked.

"He is a beautiful man, if indeed such a word can be used to describe a man. His body is magnificent, and when his lust for me became obvious I took his manhood in my mouth, and soothed it. It was much, much better than those dildoes we have practiced on all our lives."

"What were his juices like?" Bahira leaned closer to her friend, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Hot, creamy and salty," Zuleika replied.

"And he caressed you?" Bahira's breath quickened.

"His hands were all over my breasts," Zuleika responded. "I cannot wait until we lay together, and really make love!"

"Tell me about his body," Bahira begged.

"He is taller than any man I have ever seen. His chest is broad, and hairless. His waist tapers into his hips, which are narrow. When he turned I could see his buttocks were tight, and deliciously rounded. The nipples on his chest are perfect circles with deep rose-colored peaks. His skin is the palest gold in color, and while the flesh is firm, it is soft. His arms and his legs are muscled, and big, yet nicely formed. I thought his feet and hands graceful despite their size. The curls around his shaft are as black as the horsetail of hair that leaps from his shaven skull. I already desire him greatly."