Page 44 of Bound by Love
I stare at the women in silence, wondering what they have in store for me. Two walk over and begin ripping at my clothes. But the other one holds up her hand, a smile on her lips as she shows me a piece of fruit.
My stomach growls, not having eaten for days.
The other two move away after stripping me bare. Despite my fear, I cannot resist the alluring smell of the fruit and walk toward the woman, taking it from her and stuffing it into my mouth.
Sweet heaven fills my mouth and the tears I cry are of joy.
She speaks to me in a soothing voice as she directs me to sit. I do so, hoping for more food if I am compliant.
My body is thoroughly washed, the sweat and dirt of travel cleansed from it before I am shaven, including my mound. They then wash and comb out my hair. The women seem to marvel at it, stroking my mane of hair—a gift of my lineage.
They dress me in a simple gown, the material see-through and light. An opulent veil, adorned with exquisite jewels, covers my face.
I feel like a princess as the women stand back to admire their work.
Such fancy dress can only mean one thing: I am to become part of the Sheik’s harem, one of many women held prisoner and used for his pleasure. To be committed to a man who will treat me as if I am a faceless commodity, a slave to his perverted desires, is little better than what I first feared.
I start crying.
The women hush me, trying to console me with words I do not understand as they dry my tears. A plate of food is brought out and the women proceed to feed me fresh fruits, dates, and cheese. I momentarily forget my fear as I indulge in the abundance of delectable foods.
Always, for as long as I can remember, I have been hungry. This is the first time I am allowed to eat until I am full. I smile at the woman who wipes away the juices that have dribbled down my chin.
I reconsider my fate and can understand why these women seem happy for me. However, I will be the property of the Sheik, a man known for his heartless cruelty.
I wait fearfully after the three women leave the tent, laying my head against a soft pillow on the floor. I mourn for the loss of my family and the life I have known. I will never experience the love of a loyal man or the joy of having children with him.
I am only property now.
Late in the afternoon, they come for me. One of the eunuchs sticks his head into the tent and gestures that I follow him.
I suck in my breath, frozen for a moment, but force myself to stand up and leave with him.
My heart is racing as he leads me to a large tent in the center of the camp. I hesitate for a moment before I enter. The inside is lined with fine textiles, and the floor covered in soft Persian rugs. I stop for a moment, overwhelmed by the colors. Never in my life have I imagined such luxury.
The Sheik stands on the other side of the tent, watching me. His gaze burns my skin as his eyes slowly travel over my body, the material of my clothing leaving little to the imagination. He does not smile when our eyes meet, and my heart skips.
I am afraid.
He voices a command I do not understand. The eunuch pushes me forward, and I force myself to walk toward him, each step difficult to take.
The Sheik cups my chin and stares into my eyes. His are dark brown, deep, and full of treacherous mystery. He says nothing as his thumb grazes my bottom lip.
He then barks a command to his men. They nod to him in respect before walking out of the tent. All except for one.
I have no idea what is about to happen here. My mother would have told me the ways of men on the day of my wedding, but now that day will never come. I swallow down the sense of cold terror threatening to overwhelm me—wishing I could spirit myself away while my body endures his manly needs.
The Sheik is an older man with salt-and-pepper hair. He does have a handsome face, but the fact he does not smile makes him intimidating. He stares at me for a long time, making no move toward me.
A blush warms my cheeks, wondering if something is expected of me.
The Sheik nods to the other man and, suddenly, he pulls my hands behind my back and holds them in a tight grip. My heart starts racing.
Placing his finger under my chin, the Sheik tilts it upward as he leans in to kiss my lips. I am too frightened to respond but, as his kisses continue, I fearfully open my mouth to him.
My body begins to tingle with excitement. His sexual confidence is like an aphrodisiac to someone as inexperienced as me. I’ve only known Dabir’s boyish fumbling, and this man oozes a confidence and erotic desire my body can’t help but respond to.
He presses himself against me, grabbing the back of my neck as he kisses me again. His tongue invades my mouth, and my nether regions seem to explode with fiery need.
