The Defiant Princess

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  “When we divorce, he’s going to rule Rhajia in my place.”

  Helen shook her head vigorously then gave Sabrina a small shake. “You’re talking rubbish. Khalid won’t divorce!”

  Before Helen had a chance to explain herself, a group of Bedouin women surrounded them, chatting happily and laughing together.

  “It’s time, Princess Sabihah,” the elder in the group declared.

  The next second, Sabrina was separated from Helen and ushered toward a camel.

  Whatever Helen was worried about, she was obviously mistaken. Khalid would be rushing to the divorce court. He wouldn’t want to be tied to her permanently in marriage. Yet, he had said that Inaya would no longer marry him …

  “In your father’s time, our tribe moved freely between Rhajia and Turastan,” a Bedouin lady told her. “Rhajia is no longer the country it was and we have no wish to return there under Mustaf’s rule. We hope that when you assume the throne in Rhajia, things will change.”

  Sabrina was only able to give a small nod of acknowledgement before she was introduced to a Bedouin elder.

  “It’s an honour to escort you to your husband, Your Royal Highness,” the man said with a bow. “I escorted your mother to your father on their wedding night.”

  The mention of her parents completely threw Sabrina. As the words sank in, she felt her face begin to crumble. She bit down on her lower lip in an effort to compose her features and stop the overwhelming flood of emotion that made her vision blur. The small link to her parents meant so much to her.

  She felt her mother’s presence strongly. Imagined how she had felt when she’d been ready to join King Akram on their wedding night.

  “You are as beautiful as your mother, Your Highness,” the Bedouin man told her. “I hope your marriage will be as happy as the union of your parents.”

  No matter how many people were present, Sabrina couldn’t find it within herself to hold back the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

  Oh my God, I am really losing it. This is all too much.

  “It’s time to leave,” the Bedouin urged.

  Sabrina climbed up on the camel as he instructed and then hastily scrubbed at her cheeks. She nearly lost her balance as the camel responded to the command to stand. It had been so long since she’d ridden a camel, she’d forgotten that the animal would tilt her backward then forward as it stood. She tried to accustom herself to the movement as she, her guide, and guards travelled across the desert dunes. Her thoughts kept turning to her mother and she became more aware than ever of the slight weight of her mother’s pendant against her chest. If she could just see her mother again … There was so much she wanted to ask her, so much she wanted to understand.

  It would’ve been a huge adjustment for a young Nordic woman to marry an Arabian king, but from everything Sabrina remembered and had read, the couple had been very much in love. Queen Karen had been adored by the Rhajian people and she had loved her adopted country.

  Over another sand dune and the oasis came into view. One massive tent was silhouetted in the moonlight and she knew Khalid was the only inhabitant. There would, of course, be guards further away around the periphery, but they’d be far enough away to ensure the complete privacy of the Crown Prince of Turastan and his bride.

  Her camel snorted as it sat down for her to dismount. Cries of good wishes from the Bedouins, and then she was alone on the soft sand.

  It was a truly romantic setting. Secluded. Silent except for the rustling of the palm fronds in the night breeze. The reflection of the stars and the half-moon sparkled in the water of the spring. Yearning ripped through her because she wanted this wedding night to be real.

  She looked toward the tent uncertainly and took a deep breath, unsure of how to play this. Khalid must’ve heard her arrive. Did he expect her to go into the tent and meekly surrender to him? His words and actions indicated he was hell-bent on consummating their temporary marriage. It would be difficult to resist his powers of seduction. Despite all her protests to the contrary, she wanted nothing more than to have Khalid make love with her. It was only the knowledge that his heart belonged to someone else that stopped her from acting on her deepest fantasies.

  “Sabihah.”

  His voice from behind her made her jump.

  “Khalid.” Her heart raced. She searched for him, not seeing him until he moved from the shadows of a grove of palm trees and into the light. “You startled me. I thought you were in the te—”

  The rest of the word caught in her throat as desire slammed through her. She gasped at the powerful magnificence of his bare torso in the moonlight. The silvery beams that caressed his toned, satiny skin highlighted every well-defined, perfectly sculpted muscle.

  All words escaped her as she stood and stared at him with fascinated admiration and yearning, only just stopping her mouth from gaping open in awe. He was potent strength personified. And he was heartbreakingly handsome.

  This was her husband.

  There was no slowing the acceleration of her pulse as he moved across the sand toward her with the athletic grace of a panther. He didn’t try to hide the predatory intent of his stride or the heated desire in his regard.

  Oh my God.

  She swallowed to try to moisten a vocal tract that was suddenly unbearably dry with longing. Drawn to him like a magnet, her eyes moved downward from the roughened stubble of his jaw to the light sprinkling of hair across his chest. Lower, his hairline tapered over firm abdominal muscles and arrowed beyond the waistline of loose-fitting pants. She gulped hard as she recognised just what that fabric sheathed. The formidable bulge of his arousal promised sexual power and pleasure. But she didn’t know how to handle any of this. A tidal wave of heat washed over her and prickled the skin from her chest to her cheeks.

  “It’s good that you like what you see, Sabihah.” His voice had a raw, husky quality to it.

  Embarrassed beyond belief, she tore her eyes away but had no idea what to do or what to say. As she tried to anticipate his next move, her stomach performed a series of nervous somersaults.

  “I don’t want this,” she denied. What she really meant was I know this is wrong. I know I shouldn’t want this, but I do. I want this so unbearably it’s killing me, and I can’t give in to it knowing you love another.

  He seemed to know exactly what she meant.

  Soundlessly he’d closed the distance between them. He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek, his fingers exerting the slightest of pressures under her chin so her head tilted upwards and her gaze met his. The pad of his thumb stroked over the flesh of her lips. She closed her eyes and drew a tremulous breath as her lips parted.

  “You do want this. You want me.” There was no doubt at all in his voice. “Make no mistake, I want you just as much.”

  “This marriage is just for show. We agreed.” Her words lacked the conviction she intended. They were more like a plea.

  He shook his head. “I agreed to make you my wife.”

  His lips claimed hers. A gentle yet firm pressure coaxed a response she couldn’t deny no matter how staunchly her brain argued with her. Yet just as her body began to yield, he pulled back slowly.

  His features were strained. Passion blazed from his eyes as he reached for her hand. He studied it for a moment then traced the intricate henna pattern applied for the Bedouin marriage ceremony.

  “Come, Sabihah.”

  “I’m not sure—” she began nervously.

  “Today, we married. Tonight, I make you my wife.”

  “Khalid, I can’t.” She stood still. “This isn’t what I agreed to.”

  He brushed his lips fleetingly against hers. “Life is short. Honesty is everything. I can admit that I desire you most desperately.” He guided her hand to the hard strength of his erection and she gasped at the unfamiliar feel of his masculinity. “This is what you do to me, Sabihah. Feel my need.” Then, her hand was guided to his bare chest and he laid it over his heart. “Feel my heart beating for you a
s I swear it has beaten for no other.”

  “No other?” The words seemed to croak out of her dry throat as she shook her head in disbelief. “That’s not true. You love Inaya.”

  His response was immediate. “No, I don’t.”

  “She was your chosen bride.” She felt herself frowning in confusion.

  “I will say this once and it will be the last time we speak of Inaya.” He took his hand away from hers and rested on the curve of her hip. Sabrina couldn’t bring herself to remove her hand from where it lay on his chest. “As heir to the throne it was time I married. I had every intention of marrying Inaya because we seemed to be compatible and I thought she would be a good queen. My decision wasn’t based on emotion but on duty.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  But I want it to be the truth. I don’t want Inaya to come between us tonight.

  He shifted to take her hand to his mouth and grazed his lips across her knuckles before kissing the sensitive skin of her wrist.

  “You are my wife. I speak the truth.” He lowered her hand and brushed his lips over hers. “There will be no lies between us.”

  My wife.

  She was his wife. Despite telling herself and him that she wanted a marriage in name only, she hadn’t been honest. If he didn’t love Inaya, that changed everything. Would it be so wrong to make love with him? She pressed her lips together hard, warring with herself. She wanted this more than she wanted to take her next breath. Heaven help her, because for all her strength, finding the willpower to resist Khalid was as impossible as preventing the earth from rotating around the sun.

  Life is short.

  His words were true. Her parents’ lives had been cut short. An attempt had already been made on her life. If she were to die tomorrow without knowing Khalid as her lover, she would regret it for eternity.

  Like she was in a trance, she allowed herself to be led. Surprisingly, he didn’t lead her toward their tent as she’d expected, but toward the water’s edge. Her breaths were shallow in anticipation and her pulse beat a frantic, unsteady tattoo.

  “I’m nervous.” The high, tight quality of her voice would confirm her words as much as the trembling of her limbs. “This is all new to me.”

  “It will be magic between us,” he promised.

  “I—”

  He placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t talk,” he instructed. “Don’t think and don’t deny us the pleasure we can share. Only feel.”

  His mouth descended, bombarding her with sensation that rocketed all her common sense into orbit. All her doubts were as far away as the twinkling stars of the desert sky. His kisses made her lose her sanity.

  Alone in the desert, it was as though only the two of them existed in the entire galaxy. There was no conversation. Thoughts fled. The most exquisite sensations flowed through her as he moaned into her mouth and drew her hard up against his very aroused body.

  She was hungry, starving for him. Her hands ran over the firm, smooth muscles of his shoulders and across his back as urgent heat built between her thighs.

  “Raise your arms.” Elemental need laced each of his words and she did as he commanded.

  With one practised action, he eased the traditional wedding gown over her head and dropped it onto the sand beside them. The simple, coined headpiece followed.

  She shivered as he regarded her reverently, a flare of hunger in his eyes.

  “You are a goddess, habibti.”

  A deft movement and her lacy bra was removed. Her initial action was to cover herself but Khalid’s hands manacled her wrists.

  “Your breasts are perfect. Don’t even think of shielding yourself from my sight.”

  Unsure, she bit down on her lower lip as she searched his eyes. One look assured her that he spoke the truth. In direct contrast to the cool air of the desert night, the heat of his gaze on her bare breasts scorched her. She felt her breasts swell, felt them grow heavy, longing for his attention.

  He understood her body’s needs better than she did and he didn’t disappoint. The touch of his hands feathering across her flesh evoked a shiver of response from her. Her nipples hardened to tight peaks and he tugged one gently with his forefinger and thumb while he lowered his head and tormented the other with gentle, tantalising lashes of his tongue.

  She cried out in yearning as his mouth became more demanding. He fondled one breast more firmly and drew the ruched peak of the other deep into the wet, hot recess of his mouth. His suckling action made her breasts throb and her knees grow weak. Drowning in pleasure, her hands grasped his shoulders for support. Khalid reacted swiftly, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her against the naked expanse of his chest. A couple of long strides later and he had set her down on a soft, fur rug not far from the water’s edge.

  Carnal need made her reach out to touch his chest. The muscles of his abdomen contracted sharply in response. Heady with feminine power, she traced the pebbled hardness of his nipples with her fingernails. His pupils dilated and excitement scorched through her.

  When he repeated the action on her body, she writhed as she experienced an almost pagan desire.

  Long, experienced fingers slid under the lace edge of her panties and pulled the fabric down so that the final barrier was disposed of and she lay naked before him.

  “You remember I’ve never …” Her voice trailed off as a wave of self-consciousness assailed her.

  “Sabihah.” There was appreciation in his low-pitched voice. “How could I forget the preciousness of what you are about to give me?”

  ***

  Hot, hard craving consumed Khalid. The urgent need to drive into her and bind her to him pounded through him and made his penis throb unbearably.

  He stood and removed his trousers and briefs, setting his erection free. Her wide-eyed reaction to his nakedness made him feel strangely proud. It also reminded him again that she was an innocent.

  His eyes feasted on her high, full breasts, swept down her slender waist, and onward to the juncture of her thighs. He realised the short, cropped curls that would have guarded her virginity had been removed for the wedding night, as was the Bedouin tradition. It was a tradition that allowed him full appreciation of her femininity. Her body was every man’s fantasy but no other man would know it. Lithe, spectacularly long legs were designed to wrap around his waist as he drove into her. Hers was a body made for love. It promised him paradise. That she was completely untutored filled him with a strong sense of satisfaction.

  He joined her on the ground, remembering that he had a responsibility to make this first time wonderful for her. It took all of his control to take this slowly. To savour what was between them and make sure it was special for her.

  “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was hesitant. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  He raised a hand to stroke a tendril of her hair away from her anxious eyes and smiled down at her. “You could never disappoint me, habibti. You are a pleasure to me.”

  “I want you so badly …”

  The wild flush of her skin and the pulse beating rapidly in her neck supported her testimony. He registered the heavy fullness of her breasts and smelled the musky scent of her arousal.

  “As urgently as I want you,” he told her in soothing tones. “There’s no shame in two consenting adults satisfying mutual physical desire.”

  She bit down nervously on her lip. He sensed she was on the verge of making a momentous decision. Her eyes were full of uncertainty as she reached out to him and shaped his erection in her hands. Every tentative, explorative touch set off a series of tiny electrical impulses along his shaft. He didn’t dare move as she stroked his length gently, finding the bead of moisture on his tip and spreading it over the head of his penis in a soft circular action.

  He shuddered in ecstasy.

  “Did I do something wrong?” She pulled her hand quickly back to her side.

  “No, but if you keep touching me that way, I won’t last.”

&nbs
p; “Oh.”

  He took a deep breath to restore his control. “Later, you can touch me and learn my body. For now it’s better that I touch you.” He traced the outline of the pendant from her mother, that lay against her chest, then cupped her breasts again in his hands. Completely focused, he watched her reactions as he allowed his hands to drift downward over the flatness of her stomach, to trace the indentation of her waist and the alluring feminine curve of her hips. He stroked his hands along her silken thighs, urging her legs apart so he could caress the sensitive inner flesh. Her soft sounds of appreciation made it sheer torment to hold back.

  Almost overcome with lust, he swallowed hard and tried to concentrate solely on her responses and her pleasure as he allowed his hand to drift toward the apex of her thighs. She went rigid.

  “I’m not sure—”

  “No, but I am.” He stopped immediately when her hand reached out to still his own.

  “I want this,’ she said as she trembled beneath him, “but …”

  Even in the soft moonlight, the redness of her cheeks was apparent. “Sabihah, I know that you’re nervous, but I promise to bring you pleasure. I need to know that you’re with me.”

  When had he ever been so tentative, so uncertain?

  The second she nodded, he released the breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding. “I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

  “I won’t.”

  He could see she was still tense, even though she gave him a brave smile.

  With a deliberately slow action he separated the delicate folds of her flesh. He stroked the entrance until he felt her relax, heard her moan of desire. He experienced a rush of exhilaration when he felt the liquid heat of her, the stark proof of her arousal. Coating his finger in the silky dew of her desire, he swept upward unerringly to find and rub the lush nub of nerve endings which swelled for him. His fingers stroked at it, tugged gently at it, making her tremble even harder and arch her hips in reaction.

  As his thumb continued to circle and flick over that tight bud, he eased her further apart. He slid first one and then another finger into the slick, molten core of her, drawing upon all of his mastery to move his fingers with exquisite thoroughness. She gave a startled cry of delight, her hips bucked against him and her head moved restlessly. Within seconds she seemed to teeter on the edge of her climax, whimpering softly as she sought to reach total fulfilment. The sounds shot fire through his belly.