By Amber
As much as I might like to keep this story sitting on my laptop, gathering dust as I continue fiddling around with every little word and sentence, I think it’s time to finally let it out into the wilds of the internet. I’ve tinkered with it long enough. I know it’s been a long time coming for some, and this may not be the story some of you wanted for the continuation of Dae and Zafirah’s adventures…but here we are. I hope it’s not too much of a disappointment.
A few disclaimers before we start:
Adult Content: Anyone reading this should be familiar with the first story, so it should come as no surprise that there’s going to be quite a bit of sexy stuff. The story deals with an intimate romance between two women, and their relationship is open and non-monogamous (polyamorous?). Anyone who isn’t interested in that type of content, or who shouldn’t be viewing it for any legal reasons, would be wise to move along. There’s also a bit of swearing and such, so don’t read if that sort of thing will offend you.
Violence: Not a whole lot, but yes, there’s some fighting and bloodshed.
Conversion: This story will also have mention of what could be described as ‘conversion therapy’, though I’ve tried not to focus on the more violent, traumatic elements of this reprehensible practice. Still, anyone who is sensitive to such subjects should read with caution.
General Warning: This is the sequel to Nights of Silk and Sapphire, and I feel it’s worth mentioning that I’m continuing the story based on the published version, which differs somewhat from the online version (thank you to the magic of editors). I have no plans to try publishing either this or the third story (which were originally written as a single instalment, but I had to cut it in half because it went on for so long), but I do intend to keep fleshing this out into a bigger series. As it was with the original, I’m using this as practice to improve my writing, and this time focusing on more than just the sex scenes (I want to get better at using POV and a bit of world building, too).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my story. J
Chapter 1
Heat.
It curled within her like a flickering flame, its tendrils fluttering inside her belly, marshaling her heartbeat to a faster tempo. She reveled in the simmering warmth; it pulsed through her blood with an intoxicating mixture of excitement, anticipation, and nervous desire. Her skin felt charged with electricity, her senses heightened and sharp.
Once, not so long ago, the sensation of this simmering heat had been confusing to Dae—frightening, even—but it was far more familiar to her now. She understood it better, knew the shattering heights of ecstasy it could bring her to under the guidance of a lover’s hands…or indeed her own hands acting in their stead. Tonight, however, the kindling spark of her arousal felt fresh and vibrant, more thrilling. This night would be something special, and Dae struggled to keep her outward expression calm as she left her bedchamber and headed toward her rendezvous.
It had been nearly five weeks now since Dae first consummated her relationship with Zafirah Al’Intisar, Scion of the Jaharri desert and the woman who had rescued her from the brutal hands of a slave-gang. The men had captured Dae when she journeyed from her noble father’s estate to a nearby city, where she was to have received the blessings of the priesthood for her upcoming betrothal. They slaughtered her escort and dragged her, along with a number of other unfortunates, across the burning sands to face a life of enslavement in the western Tasurik Empire. The slavers, however, had been too greedy for their own good. When they failed to offer appropriate tribute to the desert people on their passage through the Jaharri, the Scion had delivered a swift and final judgment upon them. Enchanted by Dae’s exotic beauty, Zafirah had claimed her as a pleasure-servant and returned with her to the city of El’Kasari…and to the harem that would become her new home.
Born in the Heartland—the kingdom bordering the Jaharri to the east—Dae had been raised among people who viewed the liberated sexual and societal customs of their desert neighbors with contempt and disgust. When she first awoke in Zafirah’s harem Dae had been utterly terrified to think what would be done to her…even more so when she learned her new captor was a woman. All her life she’d heard tales of the barbaric and hedonistic desert people; of their ravenous appetite for war and bloodshed, and their indulgence of the most depraved sexual lusts imaginable. Despite the reassurances of the other women in the harem that no harm would befall her, Dae had been certain she’d be raped and tortured by the fiendish Scion. It had come as a surprise, therefore, when she found Zafirah to be a far more compassionate and honorable woman than the stories of her people depicted.
True, Zafirah had never concealed her desire to bed her, but she made it clear to Dae that no hand would ever be laid upon her with her consent. An innocent when it came to carnal matters, Dae had insisted she would never lay with another woman so long as the choice remained her own—yet even at their first meeting, the Scion’s seductive allure had called to her, tempted her…made her yearn for things beyond her understanding.
It had taken a long time for Dae to come to terms with the desires that had grown within her, and with the thoughts and feelings inspired by the charismatic Scion and her sybaritic harem. As her confusion and guilt were overwhelmed by curiosity and a burgeoning hunger, Dae slowly began to explore and embrace her emerging sexuality under the guidance of the other pleasure-servants. And as she grew more comfortable with the culture of the Jaharri and the desirous attentions of the other women, Dae found herself becoming more and more intrigued by the bond of attraction that developed between herself and Zafirah. That attraction had evolved into courtship, and soon enough blossomed into a deep and binding love. Since their relationship became intimate Dae had spent more time in Zafirah’s bed than she had her own, growing ever more comfortable with both her body and her desires.
On occasion she still felt the pangs of guilt and shame left over from her upbringing—feelings she hoped would dissipate in time, but which still held an awkward power over her. Zafirah never pressured her to accept more than she felt ready to; in fact, Dae often found herself playing the aggressor during their trysts, and sometimes she wished the older woman wasn’t quite so reluctant to hurry her introduction to more adventurous expressions of passion. Despite everything they had shared and her complete confidence in their love, Dae remained conscious of the fact that, compared to the other pleasure-servants in the harem, she was still something of a novice when it came to sexual matters. She wanted to build upon her exploits, explore new, more exotic delights.
That was certainly the cause of her nervous excitement this evening; Dae was acutely aware that she would soon be experiencing a new pleasure for the first time, and the thought of what lay ahead made her insides burn with a sweet, anticipatory arousal.
She had spent her afternoon preparing for the night’s festivities, wanting to look her very best for her lover. After bathing herself with scented water and ensuring her sex was smoothly shaven—a grooming habit she’d adopted from some of the other harem girls—Dae had brushed her long blonde hair until it shone like strands of spun gold in the lamplight. Her lips were stained with berry-juices; her eyelids shadowed with a dusting of kohl. She had dressed in her most provocative and alluring outfit, one which showed off her ample cleavage and alabaster skin to splendid effect, and which she knew to be a favorite of Zafirah’s.
Strolling through the seraglio, she blushed a little at the teasing and amused looks the other girls gave her while doing her best to ignore their suggestive, playful commentary. With the sun sinking lower over the horizon, Dae left the seraglio gardens in the company of an escort of two palace guards.
The outdoor air was still heavy with residual heat, but inside the marble hallways it was pleasantly cool. The palace in El’Kasari was a magnificent structure, opulent and expansive beyond anything in Dae’s homeland. Having been born into nobility, Dae was no stranger to the trappings of a privileged life—servants and handmaidens had always been on hand to cater to her needs, knowledgeable tutors had attended to her education, and her father’s estate was the envy of many of his rivals. Yet none of that compared to the luxury of the Scion’s palace. During their courtship Zafirah had taken her on many walks through its sprawling corridors and terraced gardens, but although Dae had grown quite familiar with the pathways leading between the harem and the Scion’s bedchamber, she had by no means explored the palace’s many wonders.
Upon reaching the entrance to the Scion’s bedchamber, Dae waited for her escort to announce her before stepping into the luxuriously appointed room. As always, her gaze was immediately drawn to the huge, canopied bed which dominated the chamber. Large enough to comfortably accommodate several people, its surface was littered with colorful sheets of finest silk and numerous plush cushions and pillows. Zafirah’s appreciation for the beauty of women extended to her taste in art; several sculptures were arranged around the room, each depicting the female form in glorious, naked and, in several instances, extremely intimate, detail. Ornately arched windows opened onto a terrace outside, affording a spectacular view of the surrounding palace and the city below. The scent of burning incense filled the air, mixing with subtler fragrances of leather and perfume. Though the sun still hovered a hand’s span above the western horizon, several oil-lamps were already lit in anticipation of its descent; their flickering light was reflected in the eyes of the woman who smiled in welcome at her arrival.
“Good evening, Tahirah,” Zafirah greeted, using her pet name for Dae which, in the language of the desert tribes, meant chaste…pure.
Just the sound of Zafirah’s voice, throaty and heavily accented, was enough to send a shiver down Dae’s spine. “Scion.” She offered a small bow to her lover as she approached.
Zafirah’s long dark hair hung loose about her shoulders, spilling over her chest. She was a tall woman, lean yet muscular, the perfection of her body marred only by the numerous battle-scars which testified to her experience as a warrior. Her features were angular and regal, with high cheekbones and full, sensuous lips. Most striking of all were her eyes; unlike the brown and hazel more common among the Jaharri, Zafirah’s eyes were an intense, magnetic blue…like chips of glittering sapphire. Dae admired the languid sway of her hips as Zafirah approached, feeling the tension in her belly grow stronger under the heat of her regard.
When her wandering gaze reached Zafirah’s bare midriff, however, all thoughts of seduction evaporated; a fresh welt, dark purple and swollen, ran in a crisp line high along her left hip. Dae took a step closer, alarmed. “Wh-what happened? You’re hurt.”
Zafirah paused, her demeanor losing some of its fire. “A minor injury, my love. Nothing you should be troubled over.”
“What happened?” Dae repeated.
“The healers finally gave their approval for me to resume training, but I confess I did not heed their advice to start slowly. These weeks of bedrest have slowed my reflexes more than I expected, and my opponent found a ready hole in my defenses.” Zafirah rubbed the mark, looking more embarrassed than pained. “He landed a good, solid blow with the butt of his spear.”
Dae closed the distance between them so she could better inspect the swollen area. With gentle fingers she probed the bruise, watching Zafirah’s face for signs of pain. “He should have taken it easy with you on your first day back.”
“The spahi are the most elite fighters in all the desert. I would be disappointed had any of them treated me differently now than before I was injured.” Zafirah touched her fingertips to Dae’s cheek reassuringly. “No need to wear such a frown, aziza. It looks far worse than it feels, I promise. Give it a night or two for the swelling to subside and you will hardly notice it.”
Although she hated seeing her lover wounded, Dae understood such minor injuries as this were something of an occupational hazard for Zafirah. Still, she couldn’t help but glance at her freshest scar, this one high on Zafirah’s torso, just below her clavicle. Zafirah had been shot recently in a battle against renegade tribes, and the memory of how she’d looked upon her return to the city still made Dae’s stomach twist into knots. Though Zafirah didn’t like to admit it, Dae knew the injury still bothered her.
Apparently recognizing where her concern had shifted, Zafirah flexed her arm up and down, demonstrating her improved range of motion. “My shoulder is also much improved, see? The muscles stiffen and ache if I do not use them, so training only aids my recovery. It would pain me more if we were to allow such a minor thing to distract us from more pleasurable pursuits this evening.”
Reassured that the injury wasn’t serious, Dae allowed her hands to begin exploring with new purpose. “Well…if you’re certain you’re not too sore.”
“Not sore at all, my Tahirah,” Zafirah whispered, dipping her head down and claiming Dae’s lips with a brief kiss. “So, while I was occupied with my less than impressive return to the sparring grounds, I trust you enjoyed a more relaxing day in the seraglio. I have monopolized so much of your time these last few weeks, no doubt your companions were overjoyed to have you back among them.”
“I actually spent most of the day in bed.” One of Zafirah’s eyebrows arched, and Dae quickly added, “Sleeping.”
“A tragic waste,” Zafirah lamented, giving her a look of playful disappointment. “So yet again you found the strength to avoid being lured by the tempting offers they doubtless made.”
“Mm…for today, at least.”
“Then you should have plenty of energy for what lies ahead of you this evening. And I see you have dressed in a manner assuring you shall not remain clothed for long.” Flashing sapphire eyes wandered appreciatively over Dae’s outfit.
That look effectively stole the last of Dae’s focus away from Zafirah’s injury. “I’m not the only one,” she replied, returning the inspection with one of her own. Zafirah had certainly dressed with seductive intent; her brief undergarments left most of her olive-toned skin bare, concealing just enough to tempt the imagination with thoughts of what lay beneath.
“Then you still wish to explore the pleasures we discussed on our last date?”
Dae felt herself blushing from the intensity in Zafirah’s gaze, but she nodded. “I do.”
“Very well. You have certainly been patient long enough, and after all our time together I feel confident you are well prepared to build upon your experiences with something a touch more…adventurous.”
Taking Dae by the hand, Zafirah led her to a large wooden cabinet placed against the wall by the room’s entrance. Dae felt a tingle wash over her skin as Zafirah opened the cabinet’s double doors, revealing several velvet-lined shelves within.
“Come then, my love,” Zafirah said, gesturing for her to step closer. “Choose which toy you think would be most pleasing…and I shall introduce you to its ecstasies.”
Dae tried to calm her suddenly racing heartbeat as she moved to inspect the cabinet’s contents. Over the course of her rule as Scion of the Jaharri, Zafirah had collected hundreds of erotic devices and toys from across the known world—phalluses of various sizes and designs, feather-like implements designed to stimulate the most sensitive pleasure-points on a woman’s body, and other items favored by those with a taste for less conventional styles of pleasures. While some of the devices were still beyond her understanding (How, she wondered, could two spheres of polished jade possibly be employed in a sexual manner?), others she was quite familiar with, and Dae had been eager to experience their promised pleasures for quite some time now.
This was going to be fun.
* * *
Standing off to the side, Zafirah watched Dae’s face as she ran her eyes over the myriad assortment of sexual implements displayed within the cabinet, pleased to see only excitement and curiosity in her unguarded expression. The women of her harem were all talented and enthusiastic practitioners of the hedonic arts, so Zafirah never lacked for willing partners with whom to test the applications of the various sex toys. and although ordinarily Zafirah was not the type to deny a lover’s request, the depth of her affection for Dae made her want to take things slowly.
While Dae had matured a great deal since Zafirah first brought her in from the desert, growing into her sexuality and overcoming the prejudices instilled in her by her people, she wasn’t the only one to have changed. Zafirah loved women and she loved sex, and she had always pursued both with abandon. Although she considered every woman she took to her bed as special, she had always viewed her carnal encounters as little more than a healthy release of tension…or, in certain instances, as mutually enjoyable play and bonding between friends. But after taking Dae into her harem, Zafirah had found herself strangely drawn to the outlander girl for reasons beyond her beauty or charm.
Though accustomed to sharing her bed and her body with many lovers, the deeper connection Zafirah felt for Dae had been confusing for her…not to mention extremely frustrating, since the girl initially rejected all her overtures and attempts at seduction. It still amazed her that Dae had come to so wholeheartedly embrace not only their relationship, but the broader Jaharri culture as well. Despite her upbringing, Dae possessed an inner core of passion and lust which Zafirah recognized as a perfect mirror of her own—innocence tempered by lust, to compliment lust tempered by innocence. Not one to question her own heart, Zafirah had asked Dae to become her official Consort after their first night together, and to her great joy, her proposal had been immediately accepted.
Zafirah watched Dae’s emerald eyes pass over some of the more perplexing instruments in the cabinet, then pause with notable interest on the leather cuffs and assorted restraints, and the delicate little clips and clamps arranged beside them. She glanced at Zafirah, her expression shy but hungry. “I can pick anything I like, right?”
An image of Dae, bound and begging, formed instantly in Zafirah’s mind…not for the first time. She nodded. “I might suggest you avoid anything too adventurous, but yes…you may choose freely.”
“Hmm.” Dae looked back to the restraints, clearly tempted, but after a moment her attention shifted to the array of phalluses. Zafirah smiled to herself, approving. As much as she would have enjoyed putting the little blonde in bondage this evening, she felt it might be better to explore a less intensive pleasure to start with. Besides, she didn’t doubt for a moment that the restraints would be put to use in the fullness of time.
Eventually Dae’s eyes settled on a rather artistic phallus carved from ivory. It was long but slender, its shaft meticulously sculpted to resemble two women standing in a locked and intimate embrace. “That one,” she said, her voice soft and filled with anticipation.
Zafirah took the phallus from its shelf and held it up for a closer examination. This particular piece had been presented to her as a gift by a traveler from the eastern kingdom—Dae’s homeland—and she considered it to be one of the more beautiful pieces in her collection. She knew Dae was aware of its origins, and guessed the fact had influenced her selection. “A fine choice, my love. I do not think you will be disappointed by the pleasure such art can illicit.”
Dae sucked on her lower lip as she reached out to run her fingers over the carved phallus admiringly. “It’s beautiful.”
With her free hand, Zafirah gently cupped Dae’s chin and brought her face up to gaze into her eyes. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a heavy whisper. “You will think it even more so when it is inside you…your muscles tightening around every ridge and valley of the carving.” Pressing her lips gently to Dae’s, tasting the sweetness of berries, Zafirah felt a tremor wash through the girl. Their bodies drew closer together as the kiss deepened, tongues softly dancing against each other. Zafirah rested her free hand on Dae’s hip, running it along her curves and cupping her buttocks; Dae responded by wrapping her arms around her, and a moment later she felt nimble fingers seek and release the clasp holding her bandeau closed. Dae broke their kiss as Zafirah’s breasts were laid bare; she flashed her a wicked grin, then her mouth descended.
Zafirah arched her back, a surge of passion rushing through her at the sensation of the girl’s tongue darting over her stiff nipple. With one hand still gripping Dae’s backside and the other clutching the ivory phallus, she began steering their way toward the bed; by the time they reached it, Dae had skimmed Zafirah’s underwear down her legs and she managed to step out of them without tripping them both.
Zafirah tossed the phallus onto the silk sheets as they tumbled onto the bed, Dae still feasting eagerly on her chest. While hungry lips laid claim to her flesh, Zafirah set herself to the task of freeing Dae of her brief clothing. She heard a low mew of protest when she withdrew momentarily to remove Dae’s sheer pantaloons, but as soon as they were off Zafirah half-straddled her partner in a position which put her breasts once more at a perfect level for her to continue her pleasurable attentions. With Dae suckling and gently biting at her nipples, Zafirah felt the wetness quickly building between her thighs.
For several delicious minutes she allowed Dae to continue enjoying her breasts, but Zafirah didn’t want to get too distracted by her own mounting passion. Dae pouted when she pulled away from her, still eyeing her breasts hungrily, but Zafirah didn’t leave her disappointed for long. She pushed Dae down and moved over her, pinning her to the bed by her shoulders. Her long hair tumbled around their faces like a dark curtain, and she dipped down to run her tongue over Dae’s lips. When Dae tried to lift herself up to turn the lick into a kiss, Zafirah pulled back.
“Uh uh, my temptress,” she whispered, gazing deeply into Dae’s eager eyes. “You shall have your chance to play later, after your senses have fully experienced the delights of the phallus. But before we get to that…” She sat up, releasing her hold so she could run both hands down Dae’s body, between her full breasts, until her fingers were dipping into the hollow of her hips. “…I think I should get you warmed up a little first.”
Grinning, Dae immediately drew her knees back and spread her legs; Zafirah’s eyes went straight to the smooth, bare folds of her exposed sex. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Dae said with an excited giggle. “Warm me up.”
Zafirah’s response made her squirm in wanton delight.
* * *
Cresting the ridge of rocky sand, Jarod shielded his eyes against the glare of the setting sun and sighed with relief at the sight before him. He’d been fooled three times already today into thinking his destination was in sight, only for the mirages to shimmer and fade as he approached. But there was no mistaking the reality of what he saw now.
The Jaharri desert was an arid land of arid colors; harsh light glaring off the bleak white sands, broken by sharp escarpments of ruddy-brown granite and gray limestone. Its often-surreal landscape had been molded and carved over millennia by the restless, stinging winds, then smoothed and softened by the gentler lash of spring rainstorms. The people who braved the isolation and fierce weather conditions to make the desert their home were likewise hardened and shaped, typically dark-haired and dark-eyed, with skin weathered and bronzed by the endless days of sunlight and toughened by a environment few could endure. What few plants that managed to cling to life in the water-starved land were mostly scraggly and brown, often thorn-covered and as uninviting as the desert itself. Most traders who crossed the Jaharri were struck by the desolate feel of the open landscape, so devoid of the abundance of colors they were accustomed to seeing in the more watered lands.
There were exceptions, of course, and the one Jarod now looked upon was certainly among the most spectacular.
The Kah-hari oasis broke the emptiness of the dunes like a riot of birdsong in an empty cathedral hall. The largest and most renowned of its kind, the oasis provided a welcome and vital rest-stop along the most commonly traversed trek between east and west. Around a spring of fresh water that flowed from an unknown source, the Kah-hari was a stain of lush green foliage and sweet, thick grasses amid the sand and stone that refused to let all but the hardiest life-forms survive.
In the years before the Scion Peace, several nomadic tribes of the desert had fought vicious wars for control of the oasis, defending it foremost against outsiders and secondly against each other. Now, under the rule of Zafirah Al’Intisar and her predecessors, travelers from the watered lands were permitted to use the Kah-hari as a place to rest their horses and find solace from the blistering heat of the sun…though not without paying a price for the privilege. Four of the strongest tribes owing allegiance to the Scion Peace shared the oasis as a common border, and they enforced a strict rule of tribute on outsiders. Those who dared take water from the spring without offering appropriate payment were slaughtered without question or mercy.
The Jaharri did not lightly suffer errors of stupidity or greed.
Fortunately for Jarod, he and his four companions were neither foolish nor greedy. He looked back over his shoulder as the other members of his party joined him atop the ridge. A few words of muffled relief came from beneath the haik worn by Quinn, his second in command and a fellow veteran of the road, while a string of curses could be heard from the rear of the group where Kolt was struggling to drag their stubborn pack camel behind his horse. Tiberian and Oras regarded the oasis with a touch of skepticism.
“It’s real,” Jarod assured the two men, neither of whom had ever made this journey before. “No heat haze made this miracle.”
Looking away from the lush tract of greenery he surveyed the surrounding landscape, reading signs invisible to all but those who knew how to look for them. With a gloved hand he gestured to the north-west, where a faint cloud of dust could be seen shimmering just above the skyline.
“The Tek,” he identified, his voice muffled by the white cotton haik that protected his face from the blowing sands. “No more than a few hours ride by my reckoning, and looking to have settled for a time.”
“Should we approach?” asked Quinn, drawing groans of dismay from Tiberian and Oras.
Jarod shook his head. “No. We camp at the spring tonight.”
“But Rehan and his people may have seen the girl.”
“Agreed, but we needn’t seek the nomads out. Before the moon is high, they shall come to us.” He nodded toward the peak of a distant stone escarpment which rose out of the sands like a frozen wall of water, a marvel of nature’s engineering. Three mounted figures could be seen silhouetted against the azure of the clear skies behind them, observing the oasis and those who were approaching. “The desert is ever watchful.”
Entering the shade of the date-palms and assorted trees brought an instant respite from the glaring sun, and even Jarod could not suppress a sigh of relief. They made their way to an area clearly designated as a campsite, where they dismounted and began stripping their weary mounts of saddles and gear. Quinn assisted Tiberian and Oras with unloading a pair of iron-bound chests from the pack camel, directing them to the edge of a great pool of clear, fresh water which comprised the heart of the oasis. There they placed them on a smooth, flat stone alongside several other chests of varying sizes and designs.
Jarod unwrapped his haik and wiped the sweat from his brow, then approached the tribute rock. Opening the largest chest, he scanned its contents: two hundred and fifty exquisitely crafted steel arrowheads forged in the lands of Ach-Shir across the northern sea, crystal vials filled with perfumed oils, and jars of exotic spices. And the centerpiece of their offering, several pouches of softest doe-skin leather filled with the rare brehani leaf, the herb prized by the Jaharri tribes for its intoxicating qualities and used by their religious orders as a sacrament.
“These nomads have an eye for quality,” Quinn remarked, joining him in admiring the rich tribute. “This is a costly passage we buy, Jarod.”
“And we must make it count.” He studied the contents of the chest a moment longer before gently closing the lid. “This will gain us safe passage across the desert, but we must also use it to purchase information of our quarry from the Tek. Lady Everdeen’s captors will be harder to track once we reach the Tasurik Empire in the west, where they will count themselves as one group among many coming to market to sell their wares.” A creaking sound drew his eyes to the upper branches of a date-palm, and his lips pulled into a grim line. “If we’re lucky, their journey was cut short.”
The other men followed his gaze and paled at the sight. Hanging by its neck from a length of rope was a corpse several months old. Little but a skeleton remained after the carrion feeders had done their work, but the single raven-fletched arrow embedded through the grinning skull left little doubt as to the cause of the unfortunate man’s demise.
The Scion’s scouts were legendary for their accuracy with a bow.
Under Jarod’s direction the men set about preparing the campsite: the horses were hobbled and set to graze, their packs were arranged around the ashes of a firepit, and water was drawn to replenish their supplies and quench several days of thirst. While Tiberian went hunting for dinner and Oras built a fire, Jarod wandered to the edge of the oasis, where the trees and grasses died off and were replaced by open, barren flats of stone and sand.
Born in the Heartland, Jarod was a well-traveled man whose work often drew him far from home. Though not a merchant in the strictest sense of the word, he’d made the journey across the Jaharri many times in his life, had witnessed the eerie and awesome spectacle of the desert sunset enough times that it was familiar to him. Still, that familiarity did little to diminish the overwhelming sense of isolation and vastness inspired by the sight of that open sky unmarred by bird or cloud; the seemingly endless vistas of sand that spread out in all directions. Jarod had heard tales of outlanders who spent extended periods of time in the Jaharri and been driven to madness from the sheer openness of the landscape, their minds simply unable to accept the lack of features, and the barren, bleak world that seemed so empty and devoid of life.
With evening’s descent the heat of day was replaced by the chill of night, and Jarod rejoined his companions around the fire. Tiberian had caught a plump hare for dinner, and they enjoyed the repast while listening to the distant cries of jackals and desert lions. After they’d eaten, Jarod set two men to watch the perimeter of the camp… a precaution against the predators wandering too close, and a warning for when visitors came calling.
It wasn’t a long wait.
A birdcall rang through camp no more than an hour after full dark, the sound too clear and perfect to be authentic. Jarod was on his feet before his guards rejoined the group, while Quinn took up a defensive position behind him. Out of the darkness strode six tall figures, clad alike in the flowing robes of the desert nomads, their faces hidden behind the folds of their haiks. The strangers kept their swords sheathed, and Jarod took it as a good sign. Of course, he was wise enough to know that several archers would be waiting just beyond the light of the campfire, arrows nocked and ready should he or his men make a treacherous move.
Stepping forward to greet the visitors, Jarod crossed his arms in an ‘X’ over his chest in a universally accepted gesture of friendship and peace. The leader of the nomads returned the gesture before pulling aside his haik, revealing a grim face with a dark, wiry beard that lent his mouth a perpetual scowl. He surveyed Jarod and his companions a long moment before turning his attention to the two chests left beside the spring.
“My greetings, travelers. I am Rehan Al’Carin,” he greeted, performing a curt salaam, “leader of the Tek.”
“We have heard your name, Effendi, and are honored you would come to speak with us in person.” Jarod touched his forehead in a respectful and humble salaam of his own, acknowledging the tribal leader’s status. “I am Jarod of the Far Spire. My companions and I have traveled a great distance in haste; your oasis is a welcome haven after so many days journeying under the glare of the sun.”
Jarod had indeed heard of Rehan; the grim-faced chief had led the Tek for over twenty years, ruling through times of famine and conflict with alternate wisdom and ruthlessness to see his tribe grow to be one of the most powerful in the desert. He was also aware that as sheikh of one of the tribes charged with guardianship of the well-traveled oasis, Rehan had become an excellent judge of strangers in his land…and right now he was studying Jarod and his companions with shrewd, calculating eyes.
“Five men crossing from the east,” he rumbled. “Six horses and a single pack animal. You are no traders.”
Jarod accepted his observation with another bow. “Indeed not, Effendi. Yet all wise travelers know to honor the desert guardians when passing through these lands.”
Rehan grunted and waved a hand to his fellows. One of his tribesmen approached the tribute rock and lifted the lid on one of the chests. He paused a long moment, studying the contents, then looked back to his chief. He made no gesture and spoke no words, but even with his expression hidden by his haik it was clear some type of communication had transpired, for Rehan’s demeanor warmed a fraction when he turned back to Jarod.
“You know us well, outlander.”
“I’ve had dealings with the nomads of the Jaharri before.”
“And you pay well for the use of our spring. Too well.” Rehan’s tone turned suspicious. “Besides passage, what are you hoping to buy with such generous tribute?”
“We are simple trackers, sidi, hired to locate the daughter of a noble Lord who was kidnapped by slavers some months ago in the Heartland. Their trail has led us west, through your lands.”
“And you thought perhaps we might aid you in finding her?”
“You have eyes in the desert…vigilant eyes, I’m sure. It’s possible you marked her passage.”
Rehan shrugged. “Many cross through the lands of my people; many traders and slavers and pilgrims. You seek one among hundreds.”
Jarod inclined his head to acknowledge this was true. “Any information you could offer would be appreciated. You’re a father yourself, no doubt. Can you not imagine the distress of the girl’s parents, fearing for the fate of their daughter in the hands of such cruel and unscrupulous men?”
Rehan scowled. “I have little love for those who traffic in human suffering, true…but my people do not trouble themselves over the affairs of outlanders without cause. So long as they do not seek to traffic their wares through El’Kasari, slavers are not outlawed in the desert.”
“The girl was young, barely into her nineteenth year, and beautiful beyond her years. For the sake of her parents, I ask only that you cast back in your mind for recollections of any who may fit her description. Blonde hair and eyes as green as emeralds; common traits in the east, I know, but surely not in the Jaharri.”
Rehan almost shook his head, but then he paused, and Jarod saw something—a memory, perhaps—stir behind his eyes. “A young woman with golden hair, you say?”
“Yes.”
“And beautiful? Uncommonly so?”
“From the paintings I saw in her parents’ home, indeed.”
“Hm…the young and beautiful often fall prey to slavers. Again, she would be one among many.”
But Jarod had not missed that momentary flash of recognition. “Surely you can offer us something?” he pleaded earnestly. “Anything?”
“Perhaps.” Rehan was silent a long time, then he asked in a low growl, “What if I told you the girl was dead?”
“Then I would ask only for the right to return her body to her family, that they might be given a chance to grieve properly for her loss. It would not be the first time such a solemn duty fell upon my shoulders.”
“And if you found her living happily in a new life which pleased her? A life where she was content and loved? Would you see her taken from that life and the people who now care for her?”
The question was a test, Jarod realized, and a peculiar one at that. Rehan seemed unusually cagey, considering the young lady was an outlander. Jarod chose his next words carefully. “I have been hired to bring comfort to a father’s heartache…to ease a mother’s grief. Just to know their daughter is alive and well, safe in a new life, would do much to settle their terrible fears for what she may have suffered.”
Rehan considered his answer, then gave a curt nod. “A band of slavers was killed by the Scion’s forces many moons ago after they took water from the spring and left nothing in return. Those they held captive were accepted into my tribe to earn their salvation. Among the caravan was one who fits your description.”
Hope renewed, Jarod took an eager step closer to Rehan. “Then she must still be among you. Please, Effendi, her father will pay any debt owed to her rescuers—”
But Rehan held up his hand. “The Scion herself led the slaughter,” he said, watching Jarod’s reaction closely. “She is a woman whose appreciation for great beauty is well known.”
Jarod absorbed the meaning of those words, careful to keep his expression and body-language neutral. Still, he sensed the sudden discomfort among his men.
“Perhaps the girl you seek walked a different path,” Rehan continued. “Perhaps she passed through at a different time. But perhaps…perhaps she has discovered something in the desert she would never have found in your own land. Perhaps she is happy here.” The leader of the Tek gestured to his men and they turned and made their way back into the darkness of the surrounding oasis. He remained a moment longer, taking careful measure of Jarod’s reaction. “I am sorry for the loss suffered by the family of this girl…yet I would sorrow more for any loss to those who love her now. Tread carefully in your mission, Jarod of the East. Among my people, love can bite with savage teeth when threatened.”
With a final glance toward the tribute chests, Rehan strode away from the camp, his footfalls growing eerily silent the moment he reached the perimeter of the firelight.
Jarod watched his passing thoughtfully, recalling every word spoken…and, more importantly, every word left unspoken. He turned back and pointed to Tiberian and Oras, then gestured after the nomads. “Follow them. We need to know more before we can be sure of our course.”
The two men nodded and slipped silently after the tribesmen.
Jarod was uncertain of the wisdom in sending spies to eavesdrop on the Tek, but he didn’t have enough information to act with confidence yet. He’d never worked with Tiberian or Oras before, but they came highly recommended as stealthy, well-trained men, capable of following orders without overstepping them. Still, the Jaharri nomads were an unpredictable people; he could only pray his companions wouldn’t be caught.
After a tense hour of waiting the two men returned, and Jarod gave them a moment to drink and catch their breath before receiving their report.
“The Tek seemed nervous,” Tiberian said. “We managed to get close enough to hear some of their conversation. I think your description of the girl set them off.”
“They recognized her?”
Oras nodded. “They didn’t seem happy with their chief for telling you as much as he did. They sounded kind of protective toward the girl. But there was more…” He paused, exchanging an uncertain look with his companion.
“Out with it.”
“They mentioned their leader…the Scion. Apparently the girl was taken by her, just like the chief said. But…” Another pause. “Now, keep in mind we didn’t want to get too close, so we didn’t hear everything, but…”
“But, what?”
Oras took a deep breath. “From the way they described it…well, it seemed like they were talking about a marriage. I mean between the Scion…and the girl.”
Jarod concealed his surprise, but it took him a long moment to process this extremely unexpected turn of events. He glanced at Tiberian. “You agree with him? Is that how it sounded?”
“They called it a ‘joining ceremony’, but yeah, that’s how it came across.”
Jarod looked from one man to the other, weighing the strength of their words carefully, then he stepped away from the campfire and strode back out to the edge of the camp. Hands clasped behind his back, he looked up at the vast spectacle of the starry sky, sorting through his options. After several minutes, he turned back to his watching men.
“We have our orders,” he said simply. “We return with Lord Everdeen’s daughter, regardless of the situation. If the Scion has her, at least we’ll know where to begin our search.”
“Where?”
Jarod looked to Quinn, seeking confirmation of his assessment from his trusted second. Quinn nodded and replied, “El’Kasari, the city on the northern coast.”
“Of course, knowing where she is makes this easier, but…” Jarod sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “…the question becomes, how do we rescue her? If she’s in the palace—which, if all this is true, she almost certainly is—we’d never get past the guards, even if we could learn exactly where she’s being kept.”
“Perhaps we could use disguises—” Oras began, but Quinn interjected before Jarod could.
“No point in that, boy. The Scion’s guards are no fools, and they don’t just allow outlanders to wander about the palace. We’d be found out. No…we’ll have to find another way.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know.” Jarod shook his head, realizing there was no point in trying to put the puzzle together when he didn’t have all the pieces. “First thing’s first. We leave in the evening tomorrow, after the worst of the heat, and make for El’Kasari. When we get there, we’ll gather what information we can and consider the best way to get the young lady back.”
When his men mumbled their agreement and turned away to take up their positions on watch, Jarod sighed and began laying out his bedroll. He’d set a harsh pace on their ride out of the Heartland and across the desert, and it would be good to finally get a full night of restful sleep. As he lay down and closed his eyes, listening to the cries of nocturnal predators, Jarod couldn’t help but silently curse at how suddenly his straightforward assignment had turned into such a tangled, and potentially hazardous, mess.
* * *
With the balls of her feet digging into the bed, Dae strained in rapture, lifting her hips, buttocks, and lower back off the sheets and using her shoulders to push herself furiously against the two fingers penetrating her. A crisp breeze blew over her, cooling the sweat that beaded every inch of her skin and creating a tantalizing contrast to the fire bursting within her. She clutched at the damp silken sheets beneath her, crying out in ecstasy as the waves of a climax crashed through her.
“Gods, yes! Keep going, Zafirah! Don’t stop!”
Zafirah’s fingers filled her with strong, confident thrusts while her thumb rolled rapidly around the stiff bud of her clitoris. Dae felt the wetness flowing from her sex as she continued to ride the crest of her orgasm, squealing in delight when Zafirah started kissing and gently biting her inner left thigh. As the tremors finally faded she collapsed back onto the bed, Zafirah’s movements slowing as she brought her down from the heights of pleasure.
Settling back on the bedsheets, breathless and giddy, Dae felt Zafirah’s breath whisper against the wet mark she’d left on her skin. “How is it that your skin tastes so much sweeter on my tongue when you are lost in the grip of climax, my love? I have noticed it every time we lay together, yet it seems the condition is unique to you.”
Dae sat up so she could look down at her lover through a curtain of tousled blonde hair. “I don’t know…although I’ve noticed the same thing of you.” She flashed a lascivious grin. “Perhaps the matter requires further study?”
“An excellent suggestion. I take it your passion is far from spent, my wicked Tahirah?”
“Oh, very far, indeed.”
Dae felt the long fingers slip from inside her and spread the honey of her release over her clit and labia. Zafirah chuckled when she moaned at the teasing caresses against her sensitive flesh.
“Now to prepare you for the main event.” Zafirah’s lips trailed a series of kisses up her leg until Dae felt her tongue dart fleetingly against her dripping sex. “Mmm…this may yet take a while. I wish to make it an experience worthy of the long wait you have endured.”
Quite familiar by now with how splendidly Zafirah could pace out their lovemaking, Dae knew she was only getting started. It was common for Zafirah to grant her a quick release to begin with, heightening her sensitivity while taking some of the edge off. Experience told her that next would come the torture; a slow, building session of foreplay which would take her to the edge and keep her teetering there, pleading and squirming, sometimes for hours.
Sure enough, Zafirah moved away from Dae’s more sensitive regions to tantalize every other erogenous area, kissing up her sides, down her collarbone, and along her neckline before sharing a deep, lingering kiss that left her moaning. From there she headed back down, running her fingernails along her thighs while Dae spread her arms above her head, luxuriating in the attention. Dae giggled and squirmed when Zafirah’s tongue lapped at the sensitive skin under her armpits—a surprisingly erotic sensation—before exploring the lower line of her ribcage. She could feel the smile on Zafirah’s lips as they descended once more, planting kisses from her naval down over her smoothly shaven pubic mound, then dipping lower to feast on her honey-slick flesh…but only for a moment. When she moved away once more, Dae mewed in disappointment.
The foreplay went on and on, Zafirah teasing her with a relentless ebb and flow of rising pleasure. Dae hitched in a deep breath of anticipation when Zafirah’s mouth finally closed over her swollen clitoris, then released it in a hearty groan when her tongue flitted against the electrified bundle of nerve-endings. Tossing her head in ecstasy, Dae was soon struggling to mask the fact that she was moving to the precipice once more.
She didn’t want to alert her attentive lover to her imminent climax until it was too late for her to stop it.
But it was no use. Just as she felt the muscles in her abdomen and thighs begin twitching in rhythmic harmony with Zafirah’s ministrations, Dae felt her experienced lover once again slow the tempo of her lovemaking to something less urgent, her tongue now gentle and languid. A whimper of frustration escaped her throat, but although Dae didn’t appreciate being backed away from the promise of another release, Zafirah still hadn’t introduced the phallus to their play…and she sensed the time was drawing near when she would. Looking down the length of her body, she found Zafirah staring back at her with wicked amusement.
“Please!”
“Patience, little one,” Zafirah whispered in a husky tone. “Remember, the destination is often more rewarding when one takes the longer path to reach it.”
Dae whimpered again, but she knew Zafirah would not be rushed. All she could do was watch her devotions with plaintive eyes.
Zafirah’s mouth and tongue soon went back to sweeping lazily over the slick folds of her sex, sucking up the nectar of her arousal, mixing it with her saliva, then spreading it liberally up over the hardened nub of her clitoris…up and down her sex, faster then slower, working her into a lather. Dae could feel liquid flowing down the crack of her buttocks and soaking the sheets beneath her. Finally, Dae saw Zafirah search the bed for the smooth length of carved ivory she’d selected earlier. She froze when she felt the cooler touch of it against her sensitive sex, watching Zafirah drag the ridges of the toy through the petals of her labia, coating the shaft in a glaze of her abundant juices.
Zafirah grinned at her eager expression. “You like?” she purred.
Dae bit her lower lip and nodded.
“And do you wish to feel it more fully?”
“Yessss.” Dae thrust her hips forward urgently, no longer in any mood to be patient. “Please!”
“Easy, my Tahirah. We have no shortage of time to play.” Zafirah blew a cooling breath against Dae’s throbbing core.
“Argh!” Propping herself up higher on her elbows, Dae stared down at Zafirah’s slow worship of her sex. “More!” she demanded.
Zafirah only grinned and held up the glistening toy, displaying it to her in the soft lamp light. “How wet you become, little Tahirah,” she remarked in an infuriatingly innocent tone. “Have you any suggestions how we might satisfy such a lustful body?”
Dae’s only answer was a low and ominous growl, which turned into a happy squeak when Zafirah’s tongue lashed her clit.
“You shall not be disappointed by your selection, I think,” Zafirah continued, contemplating the carved ivory shaft. “Phalluses come is so many styles and designs, are crafted from so many materials in so many ways, it will take experimentation and play to learn what pleases you most. You have chosen well for your first taste of such pleasure.”
Dae regarded the toy with an eager smile. It had been so tempting to choose the padded leather cuffs instead of the phallus, but Dae knew if she had, the chances were slim she would have the opportunity to apply them to Zafirah. More likely she would find herself bound and ravished to the point of utter exhaustion…not so terrible a fate, and one she’d invited Zafirah to subject her to on more than one occasion. Dae had selected the ivory phallus instead based mostly on the aesthetics of the toy (she liked its shape and the sensuous angles of the carving), but she’d also considered how the bas-relief carvings might feel against the inner walls of her sex.
Slicking the ivory in her essence again, Zafirah held the phallus up to her, one dark eyebrow raised in a playful dare. “Taste?”
Not so long-ago, Dae would have blushed deep crimson at such an offering, and a month or two further in the past she would likely have drawn away in disgust. But much had changed in her attitudes this last season living among the pleasure-servants of Zafirah’s harem, and now she hesitated only long enough to gaze with hungry passion into her lover’s eyes before parting her lips and sweeping her tongue over the glistening shaft, savoring the sweetness of her own desire.
Zafirah watched Dae suck lightly on the toy, clearly enjoying the sight, before she withdrew the offering and brought it back down to her center. Lying back on a pile of cushions, Dae spread her legs wider to better display her naked and weeping sex to Zafirah’s attentions.
For a few moments longer Zafirah continued her teasing, dragging the length of the ivory through the bare folds of Dae's sex but refusing to grant a deeper touch. Dae whimpered pleadingly, rocking her hips in an unconscious rhythm. Finally, watching her expression intently, Zafirah rested the head of the shaft against the entrance to Dae’s core, and slowly twisted it forward.
Dae gasped when she felt the gentle and slight penetration. Her muscles tensed, then relaxed as Zafirah pushed into her another inch. The sensation was different from the other touches she had experienced, firmer than Zafirah’s tongue, and not so dexterous as her fingers. Her inner walls tightened around ivory as it was buried slowly into her, and she moaned when Zafirah fluttered her tongue over her clitoris. The sensation made her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy, but Zafirah’s voice called her back.
“No, no, my Tahirah…watch me. See how beautiful…”
Dae forced her eyelids open and looked down her body. The sight of the intricately carved phallus disappearing into her glistening sex amazed her; she could feel it stretching her wider than Zafirah’s fingers ever had.
Before long, however, pleasure melted into frustration as Dae realized she wasn’t getting quite enough stimulation to push her closer to the edge; Zafirah was setting a deliberately slow, shallow pace. But when she gazed pleadingly into the sapphire eyes looking back at her, Zafirah only smiled and shook her head.
“Patience, aziza. After so long a wait, why rush toward the ending?”
“The better to begin our play anew,” Dae countered with a hopeful smile.
“Trust me, little one. I know how to make you feel good.”
Dae lay back once more, thwarted but not without recourse. “Mm, so do I,” she purred. Tracing her hands up the contours of her ribcage to her chest, Dae cupped her breasts and tweaked her stiff nipples. Fresh sparks of pleasure raced through her nerve-endings to complement Zafirah’s continued attentions, and her senses began spiraling higher in anticipation of release.
In retaliation, Zafirah pushed the ivory phallus fully into her with a sudden thrust, earning a startled but very happy squeak of pleasure. Dae rolled her hips, trying to set a swifter rhythm, but Zafirah followed her motions smoothly. Dae glared down at her, but she only chuckled. “Behave, aziza, or the moon will be high in the night sky before you find release.”
Dae reluctantly forced her hips to settle their instinctive movements, not doubting that Zafirah was perfectly capable of carrying through on her playful threat. Still, she continued fondling her breasts in mild protest to the delay. She only hoped Zafirah wouldn’t make her wait so long before demonstrating how the toy felt when utilized in conjunction with a harness, something she’d been aching to experience since she’d first been introduced to such apparatus. Or perhaps the phallus, harness, and the restraints all together…
Gods, so many new pleasures yet to be explored!
Dae could feel her inner walls stretching around the welcome invader as it filled her, and she moaned every time Zafirah twisted the phallus; the way the smooth edges of the carving rubbed against her insides was utterly delicious. “Stop teasing me,” she pleaded.
Zafirah ran a finger around the base of the phallus where it met the smooth lips of her sex. “Can you feel me inside you, aziza?”
Dae whimpered, trembling with the effort it took to hold still. “Yes.”
“Does it feel nice, to have me touch you so deeply?”
“Mmm…yes.”
“And what would you have me do now?”
Dae swallowed hard, knowing what Zafirah wanted to hear. She had learned early in their relationship that the Scion was a very aural lover, and she seemed to particularly relish hearing explicit directives from Dae. Having been raised strictly never to use explicit language, swearing was another taboo Dae was still getting used to indulging in.
Dae pushed her hips forward shamelessly, hoping her lover would accept that as answer enough. But Zafirah wasn’t feeling so merciful.
“You have to tell me, or you get nothing.”
Dae moaned and tweaked her nipples between her fingertips. “Please…”
“Tell me.”
“Argh!” Dae looked down at the woman torturing her with wide, pleading eyes. “Do it!”
“Do what, little one?”
Dae breathing was ragged, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Nek ni.”
Zafirah grinned but shook her head, refusing to let her take the easier path by using the language of the desert people. “In the Common tongue, beloved.”
Another moment of hesitation, then Dae whispered quietly, “Fuck me.”
“As you wish, Tahirah.” Zafirah slowly drew the phallus, dripping with Dae’s arousal, from her sex, rolling her wrist to ensure she gained the full effect of the carved ridges against her inner walls. When all but the head of the instrument had been withdrawn, she pushed it firmly back in, setting a slow pace.
Too slow for Dae’s liking.
“Faster!”
Zafirah complied instantly this time, and before long Dae’s breathing grew shallow and strained as she tugged at her nipples and tried to impale herself harder against the source of her pleasure. The sensation of the phallus filling her was primal and carnal, and she was soon spiraling toward fantastic heights once more, her inner muscles twitching and tightening around the ivory shaft.
“Faster, faster, faster! Gods, yes, make me come!”
She was so close now, she thought release to be seconds away. But Zafirah was a talented lover, and she held Dae back from the precipice for several agonizingly long minutes, her cries growing louder as the crest approached. Just as she was about to topple over, Dae felt Zafirah torturously slow her pace a fraction. Her head shot up.
“Don’t you DARE fucking stop!”
Zafirah flashed her an evil grin, but mercifully continued. “Tell me when, aziza,” she whispered, holding Dae’s gaze intensely. “Tell me when.”
Dae nodded her understanding.
With those lust-filled eyes fixed upon her, it took only a few moments for Dae to reach the edge. Just before she felt the first spasm hit, she cried out in rapture. “Now!”
The moment she announced the first wave of her climax, Zafirah dropped her open mouth over her sex and began suckling firmly at her throbbing clitoris. She simultaneously impaled her fully with the phallus and rapidly worked the edge of her palm against the base of the toy, creating the most indescribable vibrational sensations within her.
“Coming! Aahh, yes Zafirah, keep fucking me! YESSSS!”
Dae’s eyes rolled back in her head as her senses exploded, bolts of sizzling ecstasy racing like quicksilver through her veins. She felt her muscles contracting around the phallus, and no matter how wildly she thrashed her body or thrust her hips, Zafirah’s mouth and furiously lashing tongue remained fixed firmly to her center, following her every erratic movement. In a delirium of passion, Dae roughly mauled her breasts and twisted her nipples hard between her fingers, the erotic sting only helping to keep her locked in the grip of a thunderous, prolonged release. Zafirah continued devouring her until the sensations became too intense to bear, and finally Dae squirmed and pushed her face away from her throbbing, over-sensitized sex.
“No more!” she begged, feeling the contractions finally subside, though the pleasant fullness of the phallus remained inside her. “Please, I can’t…too much…”
Collapsing back on the silken sheets, Dae fought to catch her breath. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and she gasped and trembled with the last fading pulses of pleasure. Dizzy and spent, she clutched at Zafirah feebly when her powerful arms encircled her body and drew her into a loving embrace. They lay together in a loose tangle of limbs while Dae’s breathing returned to normal.
“That was…wow! Just incredible.” Smiling in sated bliss, Dae snuggled deeper into the embrace and pressed a kiss against Zafirah’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, aziza.” Zafirah’s long fingers combed through Dae’s damp, disheveled hair, while her free hand ventured down her body to retrieve the phallus. Dae quickly grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“Wait,” she said, her voice husky from crying out so loud. “Leave it a moment. I like the way it feels.”
“As you wish.” Instead, Zafirah ran two fingertips over her slick sex, tracing the delicate folds of her labia and around her entrance.
Dae giggled at the playful touches. “I like the way that feels, too.” She felt Zafirah nuzzle her neck, then warm lips still wet from her release laid a trail of kisses up to her ear. Arousal, so recently sated, stirred anew. “And that.” Dae moaned softly, arching against her mate.
“Perhaps my worship is not yet finished?”
“For now, it is.” Twisting around in Zafirah’s arms, Dae pressed the taller woman back against the sheets with a promisingly heated kiss. “I need a minute to rest, but then it’s my turn to play.”
Zafirah relaxed obligingly, her eyes hooded and dark with hunger. “I am yours to command, my Tahirah…as always.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Dae crinkled her nose in pleasure, taking a moment to run her gaze down the length of her lover’s lean, muscular body before laying her head down on a soft breast with a sigh. After a moment, she reached down and withdrew the phallus from her body, enjoying the tingles the action produced.
“I really liked that,” she said, holding the glistening toy up to the light. “You should have let me start playing with your toys sooner.”
“All things in their proper time, my love. I have been recovering from my injury, and you are still new to the world of intimate pleasures. I have no desire to rush you.”
“I don’t feel rushed,” Dae quickly assured her, “and I like the whole…trying new things.”
“We have a long time to explore our desires, aziza…all the years of our lives. Let us savor that time.”
“Mm.” With her right hand Dae began absently exploring Zafirah’s olive skin, pausing here and there to trace the occasional battle-scar. “‘All the years of our lives,’ huh? I like the sound of that.”
“As do I,” Zafirah whispered. “In less than a moon you and I shall be joined, and I can devote the remainder of my life to you…” Soft lips brushed against Dae’s neck. “…your love…” Another kiss, this one lower, elicited a muffled squeak. “…and your pleasure.”
Dae squirmed in Zafirah’s arms, giggling when her lips found a ticklish area. “There’s still a lot to do before the joining ceremony. I’ll need to have a dress to wear, and you’ve told me there are rituals to go through, right?”
“Indeed, but the preparations are well in hand. My people delight in any opportunity to celebrate and have proven eager to offer their assistance. I can assure you, all will be ready in time. You will have to present yourself to the council of elders soon, and also the High Priestess of Inshal, to petition your right to join with me.”
Dae’s eyes widened at this. “Wait a minute. You mean they have to give me their permission first? But I thought—”
“Hush, little one,” Zafirah said reassuringly. “It is a formality, nothing more. It is extremely rare for a council to reject such a petition, and then only under certain specific conditions. But though their authority is now more symbolic than real, we still honor the traditions that were valued when my people warred out in the dunes. We must ask for the blessing of the elders.”
Dae relaxed a little, though she felt a lingering trace of concern. “Are you certain? I mean, I’m not one of your people. What if—”
“Have no fear, they will give their consent,” Zafirah insisted gently. “There are other more important matters which require your attention…like choosing what we shall wear as tokens of our union.”
Dae nodded, the question one she’d been considering for a while now. Zafirah had made it clear the choice was her right as Consort—the title she would take once they were joined. In her homeland, rings were the customary symbol of marriage, and Dae had been surprised to learn that there were other options available. “I have a few ideas,” she offered hesitantly. “I’m still not absolutely certain though.”
“Of course. Such decisions should never be rushed. I have already commissioned one of El’Kasari’s finest jewelers to see to the crafting once you make your choice. If you need some advice, perhaps you could speak with Johara and Hayam.”
“Maybe.” The two pleasure-servants were the only joined couple in the harem, and had provided Dae her first lessons in sexual pleasure. But though she left it unspoken, there was another within the harem Dae was more interested in discussing the matter with.
A light shiver running through the naked body lying partially beneath her distracted Dae's thoughts from the matter. Propping herself up with her left arm, she studied Zafirah. “Are you cold?”
Zafirah nodded toward the terrace outside where a curtain of stars veiled the early night sky like a shower of glittering diamonds. “Night is upon us; the heat of day has faded.”
“Hmmm.” Taking the ivory phallus from her lover, Dae ran it seductively down Zafirah’s olive skin, between the valley of her breasts, and lower. “Perhaps I should see what I can do about…warming you up,” she said in a husky tone.
“What a wonderful suggestion.”
Another shiver ran through Zafirah as Dae slipped down her body, making sure to thoroughly explore every inch of skin along the way with her lips and tongue. When Dae drew the glistening ivory shaft closer to her destination, Zafirah spread her legs accommodatingly and issued an encouraging moan.
The chill of night soon proved a poor match against the heat of passion’s flame.