The story went on, telling of Asha’s journey to her new home, her grooming—which made Kaitlin’s brows rise—and introduced the sultana, who ruled the harem, the eunuchs who guarded it and the kadin, the sheik’s third wife, who was in charge of training the slaves. First, Asha was taught how to prepare her body for his use. At this detailed description, Kaitlin’s eyes went very wide, her body restless.
Halfway through, she set the book on the bed and got up to lock the door. Licking her lips, she found the beginning of the section and read it again.
“Touch yourself,” the kadin ordered.
Asha winced. Embarrassed. Unsure.
“Go on. Do it.” The kadin guided her hand across her naked belly and down to her freshly shorn curls. Deeper, into her slit. Oh, how slick and wet she was. “That’s it,” the kadin murmured. “Rub that little pearl.”
Wrenching up her skirts, Kaitlin read the section again, this time, mimicking the action in the book.
“Good. Good. Little circles.”
Kaitlin gasped as she followed suit.
“Now, stroke your breasts. Yes. How does that feel?”
Asha sighed. It was wonderful. Her nipples were swollen and fat and tender. The kadin scraped a nail over one and she winced with pleasure.
“Faster. Faster. Yes. Now pinch your nipples. Tug on them.”
Shards of delight shot through Kaitlin as she did as the harem trainer commanded of the slave. Saint’s have mercy, she’d never imagined—
“Now, ease your fingers inside.”
Asha stilled. Surely she couldn’t do that.
At her hesitation, the whip fell on her hip. Not a harsh lash, like the one she’d received when she arrived, but a warning. Still, it sent a thrill slicing through her body.
Kaitlin paused, thrown out of the story for a moment. How could the lash of a whip be thrilling? She decided to pass over that bit and continue on, because now Asha had refused to obey and the kadin wrenched her to her feet and led her to a small bench with a long, thin obelisk on the seat.
“You shall be punished for your refusal, slave.”
A shudder walked through Kaitlin. She blinked in surprise. Why would the prospect of a punishment cause that reaction? Oh, this was a naughty, naughty book indeed.
“Sit.” The kadin guided Asha to her knees, then down on the stool, spreading her nether lips, opening her cunt.
Oh heavens. Another shudder at that word.
Asha tried to wrench up when she realized where that hard phallus was meant to go, but the kadin was relentless. The marble cock brushed her cunt with a cold kiss.
“No. Please, mistress. I will be good.”
Dark chuckles echoed in the stony chamber, the kadin’s twined with those of the eunuchs standing guard.
“A familiar promise. But it is far too late for that, my dear. Next time you will obey immediately.” She pushed Asha down on the phallus and it filled her. She cried out. “Silence, girl, or I will find something to silence you.”
The eunuchs laughed again. She glared at them.
“Look. She is still mutinous, mistress,” one of them said.
Asha winced. Surely she would be punished for that too.
“She will not be when this is finished.” The kadin took Asha’s hands and bound them behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward. She strapped her ankles to the sides of the bench, leaving Asha impaled and helpless. Why her body wept, she did not know, but she could feel the juice dampening the marble—
Kaitlin moaned as a sharp thrill shot through her. The strokes between her legs became more frantic. Her little button throbbed, pulsed with every beat of her heart. Dew clung to her fingertips, lubricating her path. She plucked at her nipple through the fabric of her bodice and then, impatient, yanked it down so she could tug, skin to bare skin. Something rose within her.
She imagined herself tied to that stool, with a thick phallus filling her. Bare. Exposed. Forced to—
She came.
Some great, gushing tempest washed down and took her, swirling her in the miasma, blanketing her in a fog of bliss. She shook, she wailed, she trembled.
She planted her feet on the bed and arched up, sinking her fingers deep into her sheath, as Asha had been commanded to do. Oh why had Asha refused? It felt divine!
And as the pleasure took her, and she plunged in and out of her dripping cunt, Kaitlin imagined it was Edward’s touch. Edward pinching her nipples. Edward filling her. Edward stroking that spot that made her heart leap and her toes curl.
When she succumbed again, for the second time—for the fifth time that day—she cried his name.
She probably shouldn’t have, but sometimes one couldn’t help such things.
After she returned to herself, Kaitlin closed the book and tucked it into the little drawer of her bedstand.