Scheherazade and the King Ch. 05

Scheherazade choked out a desperate sob and Shariyar silenced her with a hand over her mouth as he forced himself inside her. He watched as the girl's eyes flashed open, the pain of his motions evident in her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, groaning as she sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. "I know you're sore but I just have to have you."

The girl had finally managed to muster just enough strength to bite him, and yet the sting of her teeth just made him drive harder inside her.

Shariyar placed a hand on her lower stomach, pressing down on her so that he could feel his own cock moving deep inside her. Her lithe body squeezed tightly around every inch of his member, driving him to the brink of orgasm with each thrust.

"I'm going to cum all over your face, gypsy," he murmured lustily. "I want to watch you lick my seed off your lips."

Even though the weight of his body pressed the breath from her lungs, Scheherazade could have sworn his voice came from miles away.

Finally, Shariyar groaned and pulled out from her. He clambered over her, kneeling over face so that he could empty his semen across her cheeks.

Scheherazade opened her eyes for the briefest moment and the king was undone. He moaned as thick ropes of cum shot across the girl's face, glistening white against her flushed skin. He shook the last drops of cum onto her lips and then stood up, stepping over her as he pulled his pants up.

The girl rolled onto her side and curled into herself, clutching the remains of her dress around herself.

"Come on, girl, get up," Shariyar said. "Let's go inside."

Scheherazade pushed herself to her knees slowly and tried to stand, but the earth beneath her feet pitched violently and she fell back to the ground. She stared up at the sky, watching the stars circling faster and faster until they became Shahzaman's argent eyes, and then she knew no more.

++++++++

Scheherazade woke up to blinding sunshine. Her eyes blinked open slowly and she winced at the brightness of the morning, her vision adjusting slowly as she sat up in bed.

Yes, she was in a bed. She glanced around and found it was empty otherwise.

What room is this? She wondered, struggling to recognise the rich textiles that covered the walls. This isn't Shariyar's chamber...

She realised then that she was naked and the memories of the day before suddenly flooded her. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. For a few blissful moments, she had hoped those waking memories were nothing more than a terrible dream. But this was not Shariyar's room, and those memories were all too real.

Her eyes lit on the table across the room and saw it laden with food and water. She stumbled out of bed and walked, in as straight a line as she could manage, to the table. She sat down heavily in the chair, her head pounding. She cradled her forehead in her hands and moaned, now painfully aware of the amount of wine she had consumed the night before.

She took a sip of water from a waiting cup and suddenly needed to be sick. She stumbled back to the bed and pulled out the chamber pot from underneath, bile rising in her throat.

Scheherazade felt slightly better afterwards, and she glanced around the room with renewed clarity. She walked back to the table and grabbed a handful of grapes before heading into the adjoining bath chamber.

She stepped down into the bathing pool and sat on the steps as she ate, hoping the juicy fruits would help her hydrate. When she was finished, she waded deeper into the pool to wash her face and wet her hair. She pushed her dripping hair from her face and ran handfuls of water over her arms. She noticed dirt under her fingernails and stared at her hands in confusion.

She waded back to the steps and sat down, trying to recall what had happened the night before as she cleaned her fingernails.

I remember the attack. She thought. Then Hazim led me to this room... and told me not to drink.

She cringed as she remembered blatantly ignoring the old man's warning. No sooner had the door closed behind him than she'd poured herself a drink. She had been through so much that day that she had wanted nothing more than to forget it all, doctor's orders be damned.

Then what? Shariyar came, we talked out in the garden... She tried to remember what they had talked about but she could not recall their conversation nor what had happened after. She shifted her weight and realised that her pussy was sore. Her shoulders slumped as she realised what must have happened. She felt so helpless not knowing what had happened to her own body.

++++++++

Shariyar headed back to the eastern chambers to take his lunch, wondering what he would find when he returned. The girl had still been asleep when he left in the morning so he had ordered the servants to bring her food and water.

He opened the doors to the room and glanced around for the girl. The servants had already cleared the food from the table and made the bed. He poked his head inside the bathing chamber and then, finding it empty, walked out into the garden.

Scheherazade was sitting on the edge of the pond, just as he had found her the night before. She was wearing the shirt he had abandoned on the floor the night before and she held her ripped dress in her hands.

"Feeling a little tender today?" He asked, crouching in front of her. "You drank a lot last night."

"You need to stop ripping my dresses," she murmured, ignoring his question.

"If you stopped insisting on wearing them, I wouldn't have to," he said, running his hands up her calves. He pushed his hands under the hem of the shirt to caress her thighs.

"I don't remember you doing it," she said softly.

Shariyar's brow furrowed slightly: "You don't?"

"I remember we were talking here," she said, her eyes downcast. "But after that, nothing."

Some small part of her hoped that Shariyar would be upset to learn that she did not remember, that he had taken advantage of her intoxicated state. One glance into his dark eyes, however, and she knew he was not.

He pushed his hands further up her thighs: "Would you like me to remind you?"

She shoved him backwards and threw the ripped dress in his face, stalking towards the bedroom with her hands balled in fists.

The king laughed and followed her, grabbing one of her wrists and pulling her into his arms. He pinned her hands behind her back and leaned in close to her.

"You were such a good girl for me," he purred, planting a teasing kiss on the corner of her mouth.

Scheherazade pulled her head away in anger and looked away from him.

"You begged for my cock and my cum," he murmured in her ear. "You told me you wanted my seed deep inside you."

"That's not true."

"It is," he said. "I fucked you twice and you still wanted more."

"You're lying," she growled.

"Am I?" He asked mockingly. "Let's get some liquor in you and see."

She twisted wildly in his grasp, trying to wrench her wrists free.

"I want you now, gypsy," Shariyar said darkly, gripping her wrists even more viciously. "And you will go to my bed without a fight."

"Not a chance," she snarled.

Shariyar released her wrists suddenly. The moment she was free of his menacing grip, however, the tip of his sword was beneath her chin.

He pushed her chin upwards with the cold steel of the blade: "Lead the way, girl."

Scheherazade turned around slowly and walked towards the bedroom, the tip of the king's sword pressing against her back the whole time.

"Turn around," he said once they were inside. "And get on your knees."

Scheherazade's sapphire eyes shot daggers at him as she turned around and knelt.

"Take off that shirt."

The girl pulled the garment over her head slowly, her hair falling to cover her breasts as she tossed it to the side.

"Spread your knees wider," he murmured, his balls growing heavy as he watched her obey his order. Her gaze never wavered and the accusations glinting in the dark blue depths of her eyes just made his blood run hotter.

He undid the fastenings to his trousers and pushed them down until they fell around his ankles.

"Now put that pretty little mouth to use and lick and kiss your way up to my cock," he said, slowly stroking his hardening member.

When Scheherazade did not move he leaned over her and smacked the broad side of his sword against her ass. The girl yelped and began to kiss and lick her way up his left leg. Shariyar groaned contentedly at the feel of her mouth against his skin, running his hand slightly faster up and down his cock.

Scheherazade's lips ran up his leg, grazing up his thigh until she was just below his balls.

"Don't stop," he commanded breathlessly. "Lick them."

He smacked the sword against her ass when she hesitated, the razor-sharp edges leaving thin red marks on her skin.

Shariyar groaned as he felt her tongue run across his scrotum, barely whispering across his aching balls. He stroked his cock faster, shuddering at each tentative lick.

"Now lick my cock," he murmured, moving his hand away.

The girl's mouth roamed upwards and she ran her tongue up and down the length of his cock before taking the entire length of his member into her mouth. Shariyar moaned as the warmth of her mouth enveloped him, her tongue still moving against his cock.

He leaned forward, driving himself deeper into her mouth. The sword came down against her ass once more and Shairyar groaned as the girl whimpered around his cock.

"That's it, gypsy," he breathed, holding her head in place with one hand.

He could feel the pressure in his balls growing, feel the desire in his body aching for release. He did not want to finish so soon. He wanted to take her on her hands and knees and try and split her in half from behind. But he did not have the time, he was needed in another military strategy meeting soon.

Shariyar growled, half in frustration and half in pleasure. He did not try to fight the building climax, he merely pushed his cock deeper down Scheherazade's throat so that she would have no choice but to swallow every drop of his cum.

He held her head still as he came so that she could feel his seed sliding down her throat and then released her. Scheherazade fell backwards, coughing as she struggled to catch her breath.

Shariyar pulled his trousers back on and fastened them, returning his sword to its sheath. He walked towards the door, not bothering to help the girl to her feet.

"Have a drink or two while you wait for my return, gypsy," he said over his shoulder as he left. "Who knows what you'll beg me to do to you tonight."

++++++++

The sun had just set when Shariyar threw the doors to the chamber wide and stalked inside, a scowl disfiguring his handsome features.

"Gypsy!" He roared. "Get in here."

Scheherazade walked in from the garden slowly. The expression on the king's face unnerved her.

"What's the matter with you?" She asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I was expecting the arrival of a diplomatic envoy but a storm blew them off course and they lost most of their fleet."

"A diplomatic envoy from where?" She asked.

"That is no concern of yours," he snapped.

Scheherazade glowered at him.

"They are supposed to land at Cyrria tomorrow morning," he continued. "And I am going to meet whoever of their company remains."

She was not sure how, but somehow Scheherazade knew of the city of Cyrria. It was a small but prosperous city and a favourite stop for merchant traders. More importantly, however, it lay miles and miles away along the eastern coast.

The girl did not bother to conceal the eagerness in her voice: "Will you be gone long?"

"Unfortunately for you, no," Shariyar said witheringly. "I'm leaving tonight and I will be back here by tomorrow night. The morning after at the latest."

Scheherazade scowled, her displeasure obvious.

"Come on, gypsy, you've already had five days rest from me," he said, his tone low and mocking as he pulled her from the bed and into his arms. "Now you're all mine."

He kissed her before she could protest, savouring his last taste of her.

"Try not to miss me too much," he said and let her go.

Scheherazade sat back down on the bed heavily as Shariyar locked the door behind him. She wondered if he would remember to make sure the servants fed her while he was gone.

The sun slipped below the horizon and still no servants came to bring her supper, so Scheherazade wandered out into the garden, plucking an orange from one of the citrus trees. She peeled the fruit as she wandered through the walled oasis, leaving a trail of orange rind as she went. A white willow stood in one of the far corners of the garden and Scheherazade ducked under its draping limbs, curling up against the knotted trunk.

Scheherazade ate the orange in the darkness, finding comfort in the curtain of hanging fronds that guarded her from sight. She had almost made up her mind to spend the night curled up amongst the roots of the willow when she was suddenly overcome with an instinctual awareness of another being's presence.

The girl crawled forward slowly and parted the willow branches, glancing furtively around the garden. Although the dark oasis seemed still and empty, the knots twisting in Scheherazade's stomach said otherwise. She knew she was being watched.

She stood up and left the cover of the willow tree, creeping quietly through the garden. She almost ran the last few steps into the bedroom, sighing in relief as she bolted the door to the garden behind her.

But she was forced to stifle a scream when she turned around and saw a shadowy figure sitting at the table. She clapped her hands over her mouth, her heart suddenly in her throat.

The man rose and stepped into the light. Scheherazade knew his silver eyes in an instant.

"Shahzaman," she breathed.

He offered her a crooked smile: "Hello, wild waves."