Prisoner in his Harem Ch. 07

"Try if he wants to suckle already" advised the female doctor and both the parents watched in awe when their little offspring started to suck on the nipple that had fascinated his father a year ago into wanting this woman to be his own. Both their arms around him and their heads close together blind for the world around them.

--***--

A few weeks later it was Emirate Day again. The whole country was celebrating and as usual a big parade would pass by the ruler of the country and other dignitaries. For the first time this year his queen-consort was also attending what was quite special as most of the time she would live secluded in his palace. As she just had a baby a few weeks prior she had to sit in a chair to watch the parade. Her long dress and veils covering most of her hair and body her beaming eyes however said it all especially when she showed her tiny child to the cheering crowd before handing him back to a nanny to accompany her three stepkids back to their home. Her husband's affection for this foreign woman obvious to all.

But they respected her too. Had it not been her who heavily pregnant as she was had arranged for shelter when the eastern border was suddenly flooded by refugees from the wild lands across the border? Setting up tents for housing and schools and urging the West to take in refugees vetted by the UNHCR for relocation.

It had felt like such a battlescene from the "Lords of the Ring"movies. The Sheikh dressed for battle ready to lead his armies to the border to prevent insurgents to flood into their peaceful and prosperous country. He had called his woman and had instructed her to take care of the women and children seeking safety from the fighting over the border without having them uncontrolled flooding into the cities. Telling his council this pregnant wife of him had a ton of experience to do this kind of job and they should listen to her.

People had felt the dread of war looming and the mood had been grim. She had stand before her husband in his full battle gear. Her hand trailing to the webbing on the uniform. Wanting to touch him just that one last time. Looking so forlorn. Against all conventions he had just pulled her to his chest and kissed her on her veiled head. "You be strong and make sure you get the job done." All the tough military guys and wise elders had pretended not to have noticed.

She had worked like a force of nature. Getting things done. Swollen feet and a belly like a watermelon not to stop her. The foreign prime ministers had been baffled when that veiled lady had addressed them in their own languages pointing out what moral and legal obligations they had to help. Had it not been them who had unleashed the war over the border? Had they not signed all those human right treaties and the Refugee Treaty?

So she had found a way into the hearts of the people of the small country between the sea and the big desert.

The unrest had been stopped and the Sheikh and his soldiers had come home. Most of the people had been able to return to their homes on the other side of the border as well. Peace had returned.

--***--

She watched her husband's tall frame wave at and cheer the people who had represented the country at the Olympics followed by this years bunch of proud college graduates and after them soldiers who were awarded medals during the short border war and wished she could stand up and wrap her arms around him.

Haven given birth she was told by the old doctor she could not let her husband enter her for 6 weeks as she had to heal.

So Idriss had made a schedule of all his harem girls but after one week her husband had almost begged her to at least sleep in his bed with him that night. Sleep no sex. Explaining he missed her too much and all that scheduling was ok as long as once and awhile she just came to sleep there.

She had told him she was still bleeding, lactating milk all over the place and had to breastfeed a babyboy every 3 hours. He had said he could not care less and if she wanted to she could wrap herself in a comfortable flannel pyjama and bring their son as long as she would sleep in his arms.

So Idriss had marched in a cot followed by Rosebud looking extremely British in a pyjama printed with polar bears carrying their firstborn.

"I believe you mentioned a flannel pyjama my lord?" she had said with a smile.

"Oh woman I suddenly want a bearhug," he had answered opening his arms wide.

They had spend the night in each others arms discovering what could be done without the use of her lower body. Their lips worshipping each other's body. Letting him drink her milk had felt special. Her hot lips wrapped around his length had done the trick.

Then she had picked up their son and woke him to nurse him. Her husband had looked at them with his intense dark stare. His small son suckling.

"Your eyes are really like chocolate," she had said out of the blue.

"But his will be blue as yours."

"Imagine how he will look as a man. Your dark curls and skin and my blue eyes. He will break all the girls' hearts."

When he noticed she had trouble staying awake he had taken the baby from her arms.

"But he needs to burp or he will start crying," she had protested.

"Woman he is my fourth one and I admit I have not seen much of the first three ones but I was raised in a tent with kids everywhere. Close your eyes and rest and we men will take care of each other."

She saw him walk around the room holding his offspring to his shoulder rubbing the baby's back and she fell asleep on the sound of him singing some old warsong as a nursery rhyme.

--***--

Just two more weeks of waiting. Then he could make love to her again. Then she could arch in his arms again, the feeling of his moustache on her bare breasts, his battle-ram invading her gates.

She looked at the crowd and remembered how she had been whipped a year prior by Mahmoud and slapped in the face by now her husband. How terrified she had been when he had forced himself upon her. It seemed like an evil dream now. However she was grateful to Harrison in a way as had he not used her as a decoy she would have never ended up with the love of her life and a baby. Sometimes Karma had a strange way to do things.

Her husband looked back at her to see if she was alright and not getting too tired and she winked at him over her veil. He winked back and smiled.

The end?

--***--

Please let me know if you liked the story. If you liked the series please show by voting it as a favourite one.

Maybe one day I will continue the story of Rosebud and her Sheikh. What do you think that will happen to them?

I did not give you the baby's name. Any suggestions?

You might have discovered some grammar mistakes that even my American editor missed. Just imagine you writing in my language. Just see it as helping with the couleur locale.

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