The Spider Prince

by Rebecca Goings

  "I will give them justice."

  She shivered at the cruelty in his words.

  "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle this time.

  Amani shivered again. "I suppose I am."

  Ziyad held his hand out to her. She lowered her gaze and looked at him. He cocked his head, silently telling her to take his hand. Once she did, he pulled her up to stand beside him.

  "I have been cold for a very long time," he told her. "The only warmth I've found has been in your arms."

  Her heart quickened and she swallowed hard. He must have seen the surprise on her face, for he smiled gently.

  "I want to be warm tonight," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "Will you stay with me, Amani?"

  She hadn't been expecting him to open up to her, even a little bit. Hearing him confess he was warm in her embrace made her entire being ache for him. It astonished her and she swayed on her feet. Ziyad steadied her.

  "I can deny you nothing," she whispered. "If you can forget your pain, even for a little while, then I will gladly keep you warm, Spider."

  His wide, handsome grin tugged on her heart. It was impossible trying to harden herself around her husband, especially when he could melt her with just a look alone.

  "Then I will order our dinner to be sent to my carav."

  Amani nodded slowly and followed when he drew her behind him. She couldn't decide if she'd been delivered to heaven or made to endure hell.

  ~ * ~

  Ziyad led her up the steps to his carav and snapped his fingers. Four ornate silver lamps lit, hanging from the ceiling, giving her a clear view of his quarters. She'd been in here earlier, but her eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark from the bright sun. Now that she could clearly see, she gasped at his decadent surroundings.

  Just like in her carriage, black fabric hung on his walls, but his fabric was made from fine, soft silks. Colorful pillows of all sizes littered the floor where he slept, and the carpet beneath her feet depicted a scene of black and silver spiders in their webs.

  The pedestal throne he'd set her on earlier was also covered in fine fabrics, and the strong, heady scent of rahala blossoms greeted her nose.

  "Your carav is glorious," she said in awe, looking all around her at the black chests, gilded with silver, which held his clothing. A few papers lay in disarray on a polished table, and the pitcher and goblet she remembered still sat next to his throne on the floor.

  "I suppose I no longer see the splendor my position affords me," he said, glancing around with her. "I have taken my throne for granted."

  "I do not believe you have," Amani told him. "You've had…other things on your mind. Do you settle disputes of your people here?"

  "I have in the past," he replied. "But not lately. There have been no disputes to settle. Our caravan is a friendly lot."

  Amani coughed behind her hand and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Ziyad had said 'our caravan', as if she was his princess. Perhaps he meant it in a broader sense, encompassing his people as well. That had to be it.

  A soft knock interrupted them and the Spider made his way to the door. The head cook, Patik, glanced into the carav and her eyes lit on Amani. A wide grin stretched across her face before she handed her prince his food.

  "Have a spirited evening, Your Highness." She winked before Ziyad closed the door.

  "That woman has a loose tongue," he growled, setting down the tray. Amani joined him when he sat in the pillows.

  "She merely wishes to see you happy, Spider."

  "And you know this how?" he said, taking a bite of the fragrant flatbread.

  Amani took her own piece of bread and dipped it into a creamy sauce. "Your people love you," she answered. "They grieve for their princess just as much as you do. But they wish nothing but the best for you and hope I bear you healthy heirs."

  Ziyad arched a brow and lifted his mouth in a halfgrin. "It would seem you have found a way to speak to them after all."

  "Yes, well," she said, reaching for the water goblet. "Patik might be uncomfortable around me, but at least she doesn't wave me away like your lead carav driver."

  Ziyad chuckled while she took a drink. "You tried to chat with Brand? That old man doesn't talk much. To anyone."

  Amani nodded and finished chewing her cheese before answering. "So I've noticed. But Hyram is a wonderful man. He speaks to me more than Patik ever does."

  The look on Ziyad's face darkened. "Does he now?"

  "Every morning when I step out of my carav, he is there, walking beside it."

  He chewed his spiced meat while his eyes glowed, pinning her to the floor. He looked angry, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

  "Is he a guard?" she asked, taking a sip of water from the goblet.

  "He is not." Every line of Ziyad's body was tense and rigid.

  "Oh? I thought he would be, since he never seems to leave his post."

  "Hyram is my cousin, Amani," Ziyad said. "If I'm ever killed before I have a son, my Spider crown would go to him. He has yet to take a wife. Seems he is sniffing around mine."

  She gasped at the news. "I-I didn't know! He never told me. Why then would he walk next to my carav every day?"

  you?"

  "I can think of many reasons. Has he ever touched

  "Well, when we first left Suridesh, I fell in the sand after jumping from my moving steps. He helped me up."

  "What do you think of him?"

  "He is a nice man."

  "Do you find him handsome?"

  Now it was Amani's turn to arch a brow at her husband. By the gods, was he jealous? Her heart hitched in her chest as she studied him. His movements reaching for the food were short and sharp while his mouth was set in a thin, taut line. Amani had the sudden, undeniable urge to tease him.

  "Well, Spider, he might be your cousin, but the family resemblance is almost non-existent. While your brow is strong and proud, his slopes just a bit. Your nose is straight. His has a knob. Your lips are soft, while his seem permanently chapped. And your hair… It is thick and full. He hides his underneath his dunla. Could he be balding?"

  Ziyad's bark of laughter warmed her skin. She hadn't heard it in a very long time. The sound of it had her nipples puckering from where she sat. Gods, but her husband was a beautiful man. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners or how his entire face seemed to light up turned her mouth dry.

  "No, Highness, I do not find him attractive," she said. "Not after I've held the most wondrous man in the caravan against me."

  The look in Ziyad's eyes turned from mirth to passion at a turn of the winds. He seemed as if he was about to crawl across their tray and pounce.

  Amani stood suddenly, startling him. "In fact, I should go find Brand right now. I know he's getting on in years, but you don't think he's asleep, do you?"

  Ziyad stood and lunged at her. She squealed the moment his strong arms engulfed her. When he began tickling her, Amani laughed and doubled over, but could not escape his grasp.

  "Are you telling me you're dallying with my weathered old carav driver, wife of mine?"

  His tickling became even more ruthless, until Amani's giggles produced tears. "Ziyad, stop—I'm teasing you! Please!"

  "Not until you tell me who this man is you speak of."

  His chuckles filled her heart. He was enjoying himself, torturing her.

  "You!" she yelped without hesitation. "Gods, Ziyad, you're the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes

  upon."

  He stopped his tickling and turned her in his arms. "Truly?"

  Amani cupped his cheek and smiled at him. She said nothing, she merely nodded. Something changed in his eyes. His smile faded, but he didn't let her go. His fingers plunged into her hair until he lightly fisted it in his hand.

  Ziyad rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. "I…I…"

  "Shh," she whispered, placing her hand over his mouth. "Don't say anything."

  He was trembling. The mighty Spider Prince of the
Golden Desert shook in her arms like a leaf on the wind. Amani framed his face with her palms and stood on her toes, kissing him fully on the mouth.

  She kept her kisses chaste, pulling away just enough for him to lean forward, wanting more.

  "Gods, Amani," he groaned against her lips. "What are you doing to me?"

  She smiled and leaned back just enough to plant kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin and down his neck. "Making love to you."

  His arms curled tighter just as his breath shuddered from his lungs.

  "Sit on your throne, Spider."

  Amani never thought her voice could sound like that, so full of passion and wanting. But her pussy throbbed for his cock, and inspiration struck.

  He gave her a wicked grin. "My throne, minx?"

  She nodded, unraveling his belt-wrap. "I want to know what it feels like to make love to a prince on his seat of power."

  Ziyad closed his eyes and hissed his breath through his teeth. Once his belt-wrap pooled at his feet, she tugged his robes off his shoulders.

  "I want you to remember me, to remember this, every time you take your throne."

  Amani had no idea he'd been working on her belt-wrap until it fell away. Her breasts leapt from her robes. Instantly he fondled them as he walked backward, bringing her with him. Once he reached his throne, he yanked off his undergarments and kicked at his sandals. Amani did the same.

  Ziyad sat before her, gazing up into her eyes, but stopped her when she would have sat on his lap. His eyes held her captive while his tongue snaked out, flicking her nipple, teasing it, tasting it. Amani's clit demanded she rub against him, but he wouldn't let her sit on him. Yet.

  With deep, hot sucks, Ziyad took her breast into his mouth again and again, making Amani believe she could come without him touching her pussy. He released her nipple only to suckle the other, leaving the one he'd just loved wet and cold. While his mouth teased her, Amani brought his hand up to her other breast, asking him to stroke her, needing his touch on her skin.

  "Are you cold now?" she asked, bending her head to whisper in his ear.

  Ziyad pulled her down onto his lap none-too-gently. "No, damn you, I'm on fire. I want to sink into you. I want to lose myself."

  She was drawn to his mouth as if by some magical force. Amani couldn't stop kissing him any more than she could stop breathing. Forcing her tongue into his mouth, she stood on her knees and straddled his thighs. Ziyad's head was angled upward, accepting her domination as she brutally threaded her hands through his hair.

  "I ache for you," she confessed, teasing the tip of him on her engorged clit.

  Ziyad groaned. "Then take me inside you."

  Amani bit her lip, so tempted to do just that. But since he'd opened up to her earlier, could he give her more? "I will," she promised. "But first I must ask something of you."

  "Now of all times?" He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck, and the patch of hair on his chin was coarse against her. Amani's skin pebbled from head to toe.

  "Yes, mighty Spider," she said, grinning.

  "Ask what you will," he responded with a groan. "I am not likely to deny you right now."

  Amani leaned in close, touching her nose to his. She was a little scared to ask him, for she only just thought of it. "When…when I get pregnant, will you still come to me?"

  He gazed at her in shocked silence.

  When he didn't speak, she continued. "I am terrified you might not wish to…continue making love to me."

  "Why wouldn't I?" he asked. His voice was even, but his eyes betrayed his surprise.

  "Because you married me to give you a son, not to give you pleasure."

  "But you do give me pleasure, Amani Bihar," he said. "And you are my wife. Husbands and wives make love. I want a brood of children, not merely one. So yes, I will still come to you." Her heart leapt when he said her full name. She still wasn't used to it. "Does that answer your question?"

  Amani nodded, relieved more than she thought she'd be. "Thank the gods," she murmured, kissing his throat.

  He chuckled then grasped her hips. "When it comes to making love, my lovely wife, I am not your prince but your servant. Any time of the day or night, I will be yours."

  His words were spoken in mirth, but what he'd said contradicted their arrangement. He would never be hers. He belonged to Karis. Amani could never hope to compete with the memory of his beloved dead princess.

  She threw her head back to hide her shimmering eyes. "If you are my servant, Ziyad, then touch my clit," she commanded. "Make me come and watch my pleasure."

  Without another word, Ziyad's fingers opened her lower lips and swirled against her, slicking his hand on her pussy.

  "Gods!" she cried, unable to keep herself from thrusting on him. He plunged into her, bringing out more of her wetness, coating her with her own juices.

  "Does this please you, minx?" he asked gently, keeping his voice low and submissive, as if she was the princess he'd denied her to be.

  "Yes. Don't stop." Amani's hips rolled back and forth as her pleasure built within. Ziyad continued stroking her as she thrust against him on her knees.

  "Kiss me," she demanded. He complied. "God of Spiders, Ziyad," she whined against his lips. "I want your cock."

  Before he could obey, she came, thundering against his hand, crying out into his mouth. His carav seemed to shake from the force of her pleasure. It was so pure, so precious, that her heart hitched into her throat as her ecstasy crested.

  "Come into me!" she exclaimed. "Now. Right now!"

  Ziyad was frantic. He took a hold of her hips and slapped her onto his thighs, sinking himself deep and crying out with her. Amani helped him by rising up and lowering herself, amazed at how different he felt in this position. The fullness of his cock spurred on her orgasm as she rode him. The pleasure never seemed to fade away until she hit another peak and came furiously once more.

  Ziyad's body tensed an instant before he growled his release, holding Amani down and bucking with her. He shuddered and crushed her to him until the storm of his pleasure had passed.

  She couldn't think straight enough to put two words together. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder and ruffled his hair with her breath. Ziyad was still inside her and she wished to keep it that way.

  "I will never look at this throne the same again," he told her, seemingly in no rush to push her off.

  Amani smiled. "That was the point, my powerful husband."

  "Now, my subjects will wonder what I'm grinning about."

  She chuckled at him. "They will all be jealous that you have a minx for a wife."

  "Along with my fellow princes."

  Amani's smile faded. The wives of the other princes were royalty. She, however, was not. She doubted very much that they would be jealous of her.

  "Are you all right?" Ziyad asked, apparently noticing her change of mood.

  "Yes," she lied, trying to keep her voice light. "I'm just tired."

  Ziyad raised his brow. He let her stand and find her robes while he sat there, as if he intended to reign his caravan stark naked. She wasn't ashamed to look her fill.

  "I was hoping we'd stay like this for the remainder of the evening," he said, indicating the fact that he wore no robes.

  Amani dropped her garment. "A fine idea."

  Ziyad stood and approached her. She had to glance up to look into his eyes, but once she did, they held her captive.

  "Come rest with me," he said.

  "You will keep me warm?" she asked, reaching for him.

  "What do you think?"

  Ten

  Amani stared at Ziyad's face, relaxed in sleep. He seemed so at peace, as if his problems couldn't touch him. His hair, so dark and full, was tousled from her fingers. She wanted to stroke his skin, just to feel its softness once more. She doubted if he knew just how much she cared for him.

  It was late. She had no idea just how late, but the caravan was quiet and the night was dark. Amani needed to leave. T
he sun would rise soon, and Ziyad had never asked her to stay all night.

  Besides, she didn't belong in his carav. His quarters were meant for him to share with his princess. But Amani didn't want to leave.

  Ziyad's arm was around her waist. She slowly moved it in order to sit up.

  "Karis?" he murmured dreamily.

  Amani's heart stopped.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, still caught in slumber.