The Captive Flesh (28 page)

As the public punisher shrugged and began to unfasten her chains, the crowd roared in dismay and pressed forward.

‘No! No! It's not finished!'

‘She's only had a tickling!'

Marietta fell into Kasim's arms. He clasped her so
tightly that her sore thighs and buttocks bloomed with pain, but only a sigh of pleasure came from her lips. She was oblivious of the grumbling crowd.

The public punisher stepped forward to address the massed townsfolk. ‘It's all over. Go back to your business. There'll be another slave on the morrow. There always is.'

But the roars redoubled in volume. A shower of objects rained down on to the public punisher. He was hit by a rotten apple and put his hands up to protect his face. The guards ran to take control.

‘Come,' Kasim said softly, gathering the cloak into folds around Marietta. ‘We are going home.'

Marietta's legs gave out. Her experiences, coupled with the lack of food over the previous day and a half, made their impression on her at last. She trembled with reaction, weak with relief. The prying eyes were no more. Kasim had come for her. Tears glistened on her cheeks.

Kasim scooped her up and carried her swiftly from the platform and down a narrow alley. His coach was waiting. Without a word he climbed inside and placed Marietta on the seat beside him.

She felt safe. The voice of the crowd was muffled. The smell of leather and polish enveloped her. It all seemed to have taken only seconds. Confused and exhausted, she could only lean against Kasim as the coach began to move. He put up his hand to stroke her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. The charcoal-grey silk of his tunic was cool against her cheek and he smelt of some fern-scented perfume. She realised that she must smell of sweat, cheap grease and stale sex and made a move to pull away. But the gentle pressure of his hand kept her close.

The carriage wheels rolled across the cobblestones
and the outside world seemed far removed. Kasim was silent. He had not spoken since telling her that they were going home. Home? Had he chosen the word deliberately? He was so still that she thought he was absorbed in his anger. Had he come for her so that he might take her back and subject her to a more subtle, more beguiling, torment? Her head was spinning with questions. She opened her mouth to speak, but felt Kasim's cool fingers against her lips.

Then one arm snaked around her back, the other rested across her thighs. The heat from her paddled buttocks seemed to be absorbed somewhat by the fine wool of Kasim's cloak and the coldness of the leather seat under it. Kasim moved a hand inside the cloak to fondle one of her breasts. She leaned into him, finding the gesture comforting rather than arousing, and realised, with surprise, that he felt that too.

She sighed and sank more closely into the circle of his arms. There came the lighest brush of his lips against her temples. And now she dared not speak, not wanting to break the spell of tenderness. She had rarely seen Kasim like this. The new hint of vulnerability in his nature penetrated all her defences.

She had never wanted anyone so much. The desire raced through her veins, leaving her weak and mindless. She wanted Kasim to lay her along the seat and thrust himself inside her. She wanted to belong to him completely, but the ghost of Gabriel was between them. Later then. All thoughts of being comforted fled as Kasim's mere presence set her aflame. Her breath came fast and shallow as his slender fingers pinched her nipples into peaks.

The carriage raced through the narrow streets and out on to the metalled road that led to Kasim's house.

At the harem Kasim gave Marietta over to Leyla. Marietta felt bereft. She had expected him to explain his actions, to utter soft words. But that was not his way. She must do as he wished, take her lead from him. Sometimes it was hard to remain subservient. If only he would unbend – just a little. But she knew that he could not.

He was captive within his own flesh, as was she.

Infuriating. Must he always be so remote? But would she find him so devastatingly attractive if he was different?

‘Have the women bath her,' Kasim said. ‘The guards have been at her. She smells of the stables. Make her comfortable. Feed her, then let her rest.'

He stroked Leyla's face with one long thin finger, while she rubbed herself against him like a cat. ‘Have someone bring Marietta to me this night in the small bedchamber.'

‘I will see to her myself, lord,' Leyla said with meaning.

‘Ah, my treasure. Your touch is ever soothing to one who is troubled. Show Marietta more of your talents. Perhaps she will not wish to leave us again.'

Marietta wanted to tell him that she regretted trying to run away already, but she was given no chance to speak. Kasim turned on his heel and strode away, as severe and cold as always. The intimacy between them in the coach had disappeared. She might have imagined it, yet the fact remained that he had come for her. She did not know what to make of him. He was still a puzzle, as enigmatic as the moment she had first set eyes on him.

She was too exhausted to think any more. In the hammam she gave herself up gladly to Leyla's attentions. After her experiences on the punishment block
the luxury of the bath seemed heavenly. The hot perfumed water washed away the last traces of sticky grease from her pubic curls and cleansed the sweat from her hair. It soothed her sore buttocks and calmed her churning thoughts. The memory of her ordeal was already fading. She had at least been spared the final indignity of having her forced climax witnessed publicly.

‘I have been so afraid for you. I thought Kasim would sell you, then I would never see you again. But you are here and my heart is light.' Leyla smiled warmly at Marietta as she dried her, then massaged her limbs.

Marietta was glad to be back. This place had become her home. Strange that Kasim had referred to it that way. Leyla truly cared for her. If only Kasim were different she could even be happy here. It was the first time she had admitted the fact to herself.

‘Oh, your pretty bottom is so red,' Leyla crooned, rubbing her with soothing oil. ‘Was it terrible to be beaten in front of all those people?'

Marietta shuddered. ‘Yes. And yet … you will think it strange, but there is a kind of desperate attraction to it. All those people watching as you twist and burn, unable to escape the strokes of the pleasure you feel in the pain.'

‘Ah, yes. The pleasure. Always that. And how awful to have everyone witness your helplessness.' Leyla's long dark eyes glowed. ‘Did you reach your peak while they all watched?'

‘No, I was spared that humiliation.'

‘Then … You burn still? I shall soothe you. For I too burn, for you. But you know this. Kasim knows it too. Did he not give me leave to soothe you? He wishes you to be pleasured and made to relax. Sweet Marietta, I feel a change in you. I cannot explain it, but Kasim too
… he is different.' She shrugged delightfully. ‘Kasim tells no one what he plans, but this night you will share his bedchamber. Is that not an exciting thought? Now, we shall go to a quiet place I know. There we can rest together. Would you like that?'

Marietta looked at Leyla's sweet pale face. At her black eyebrows drawn together in a worried little frown. Her full red lips were slightly parted. She looked unsure of herself, vulnerable, and very beautiful. Marietta felt a surge of the desire that had always been present, but which neither of them had explored to the full. At this moment, when she was confused and vulnerable herself, she found it impossible to resist Leyla's sweetness. The night, Kasim's bedchamber seemed very far away. She longed to be soothed into forgetfulness, to lie in Leyla's arms and drift into blissful sleep. But first …

She leaned forward and placed her lips on that full red mouth. Leyla sighed, opening her lips to return the kiss. It was some time before they broke apart.

‘Follow me,' Leyla said, her voice breathless and filled with a savage joy.

In the little pavilion, screened by trees, Marietta lay next to Leyla on a silken couch. Both of them wore only thin silk robes, loose and low at the neck.

Marietta moaned softly as Leyla's slim hand stroked her body, gliding over every curve and hollow. The feel of the cool silk sliding over her skin was soothing and arousing at the same time. Leyla's hands were slim and decorated with henna; the nails were long and painted. Marietta watched their progress through half-closed eyes. The soft caresses made her feel drowsy with passion.

When Leyla closed a hand on her breast she arched
her back and sighed. Leyla teased the nipple until it was erect and standing up under the silk. She did the same with the other one, then slid her hands down to stroke Marietta's stomach. All the time she kissed Marietta's neck, darting out her pointed tongue to lick and nuzzle her skin. They kissed deeply, entwining their tongues, nibbling at each other's full lips.

Marietta felt herself growing liquid, melting, becoming eager for more. Her legs parted willingly as Leyla's hands moved downwards. She lifted her hips so that Leyla could gather up the almost transparent silk and bunch it on her stomach.

Between kisses Leyla used the bunched-up silk like a powder puff, blotting and stroking it all over Marietta's taut stomach and parted thighs. The silk glided over her skin in a petal-soft motion. Leyla used the pad of silk to stroke between Marietta's thighs, tickling the pubic curls, drawing the bunched folds over her pubis and down to the slightly parted sex. Marietta lay with her eyes closed, enjoying the unique sensations. They went on for a long time.

Then Leyla dipped her hand and began stroking Marietta's sex with the tips of her fingers. Marietta moaned aloud as Leyla pinched the sex-lips together and rubbed gently in a circle.

‘These pretty curls are delightful,' Leyla said, stroking them outwards from the flesh-lips with two fingers. ‘There. Your centre of pleasure is revealed. It's so pink and delicately folded. Moist and fragrant as the heart of a lily.'

The slowness, the subtleness, of Leyla's touch and her soft husky voice drew a strong reaction from Marietta. She reached for Leyla's body, wanting to give as well as receive pleasure. The other woman pulled away.

‘No. Not this time. Let me pleasure you. I have dreamt of doing this. Will you allow me to do as I wish, this one time?'

Marietta smiled into the glistening black eyes. ‘How could I refuse?'

Leyla sat up and lifted the loose silk robe over her head. Then she drew Marietta's robe from her. She settled herself down beside Marietta, cradling her head in the crook of her arm. Reaching down to Marietta's sex, she parted the flesh-lips, stroking upwards against her bud, at the same time leaning close so that Marietta could suckle her heavy breasts.

Marietta opened her mouth with a sigh of pleasure and drew a large rouged nipple into her mouth. Feeling the fullness of the breast pressing against her rounded lips she sucked with relish. Circling the nipple with her tongue she polished it with saliva, then drew it back inside her lips. The nipple was wonderfully big and hard and tasted sweet. She felt her sex becoming hotter and more liquid as Leyla caressed it. She suckled and tugged softly at the breast, loving the feel of the heavy globes as they lay against her cheek.

Leyla's busy fingers were stroking and rubbing softly, so softly, her touch featherlight. She stroked up the sides of the inner lips, leaving the clit-hood alone, until Marietta almost begged her to touch her straining bud. As if she knew when Marietta could stand that particular stroking no longer, Leyla took the clit-hood between a moist finger and thumb and slid it from side to side, then pulled it up and down, squeezing gently so that the tip of the bud received a tiny brushing motion.

Marietta shuddered. She felt the warm feeling of pushing downwards. Her sex was soaking. Leyla's fingers slid over her folds, bringing her to the very thresh-old,
but not tipping her over. She clutched at Leyla, squeezing her breasts together with sudden violence so that she could suckle both nipples at once. She wanted something more than gentleness now. Sliding up Leyla's body she kissed her hard, grinding her mouth against those full red lips until she felt Leyla sigh deep in her throat.

Leyla reached over and pressed one shapely thigh between Marietta's legs. She lifted Marietta's thigh and settled it around her waist. Then she grasped her hips, turning her on her side, pulling her close, moving her inside her scissored legs. Cradled in that exciting embrace, with Leyla's legs curved around and under her, Marietta felt the heat of Leyla's sex as it rubbed against hers, fitting to it closely.

‘The feel of your fleece against my naked sex is so exciting. It is soft, yet scratchy. Oh, I can feel the moist curls rubbing me. Oh, oh!'

Leyla moaned softly, beginning to make small thrusting movements with her hips. Marietta let out a sigh of pleasure as Leyla's well-developed clitoris slid delightfully back and forth across her own. It was like a tiny cock, hot and hard. Their inner flesh-lips cleaved together, sealed by their mingled juices. Marietta moved to meet Leyla's thrusts, grinding herself against Leyla, delighting in the leashed violence of the action.

Before long they were both shuddering in a long drawn-out release. Leyla tightened her legs around Marietta as she uttered sharp cries of pleasure. Her hands clutched Marietta's shoulders and drew her close. She pressed small kisses all over Marietta's face, gasping breathlessly,

‘So beautiful you are. So beautiful …'

Even before the final spasm had faded Marietta felt herself relaxing into a pleasant torpor. Leyla shifted so
that they were more comfortable. Marietta laid her head on the pillow of Leyla's bosom and closed her eyes. No more words passed between them. They were in complete accord. Soon they slept.

Kasim peered through the lattice screen of the window at the sleeping figures.

In the dim interior the entwined women seemed fashioned from porcelain. Their pale skins were patterned by the light pouring through the lattice and shadows formed in the hollows of their bodies. Rippled midnight tresses were spilled across a cloud of silver curls. Kasim found the sight intensely moving.