Lovely Concubine
Page 9
Tonia can only do these things on purpose, to provoke me.
Today she is wearing shorts, how can this be, shorts?
Sometimes I wonder why Allah, the wise of the universe, gave me this devilish woman as a wife? Where ever did a queen walk around the house dressed in shorts, and to make matters worse, white?
Marking all her curves, her golden-brown tanned skin, more than ever, the fabric tightened on her thick thighs. Since she ignores me, I will also pay her with the same coin. I flip through the report and pretend I read while she talks, only to Youssef.
And without even looking at me, she still knocks me to the ground, turning the report in my hands, which was ridiculously upside down.
-Good morning Youssef, how's Brenda?
-Sad, unhappy, Antonia. What annoys Brenda most is that she could not even tell Bianca that we are expecting a baby.
Tonia forgets her unexplained anger for a few seconds and claps her hands, laughing and jumping with joy. And I like a fool, just laugh to see my wild lioness smile.
-Ah! My goodness, what good news, I'm going to call that Brenda to fight with her, how could she not tell me? Well I noticed that she walked different. Do you think she got sick of chocolate yesterday? See how absurd! Brenda herself who is addicted to chocolates! I was already imagining that a little baby was on his way, my congratulations Youssef, give me a hug here.
Youssef looks at me and her and I nod, annoyed to be thrown into the corner like a wilted ball.
Youssef gave a loose hug to Tonia, releasing her quickly, he knows how jealous I am.
Tonia walked around my table and poured orange juice and offered a Brazilian corn cake to Youssef, teasing me.
- Youssef, ask your boss if he wants cake or prefers Arab bread with hummus.
Youssef looks at me, lost, then holds his laughter firmly and asks me seriously:
- You prefer the ca ...
I shoot Tonia with my eyes and interrupt Youssef.
-No need to ask. Even though, this lady imagines it, I am not deaf Youssef. Tell her she can serve me anything she wants as long as she has not put poison in ...
Why does she piss me off like that?!
It was just what I needed, Antonia to enter the championship of who fucks first Hafiq’s judgment. She bangs her butt on my shoulder, bending over the table to reach for the cup of tea, not letting me finish the sentence.
-Well, tell this gentleman that he deserves it! To wake up hard and with a bruised mouth this morning. Does he know that Jandira, the ordinary woman he accepted as secretary, said a lot of nonsense about me, about us?
Tonia hands me a cup of tea and puts one, two, three tablespoons of sugar and as she rails, pours more and more sugar into my tea.
- For nothing, in this fucking world, I won’t accept to share my husband, even though he is a rabid dog from Sahara, I will never accept to be cheated on with that bitch, tramp, with that ordinary from hell.
Tonia curses more than a seaport sailor, while trying to kill me with glucose overdose, and continues to complain.
-Now tell me, my friend, why do I have to endure this, Youssef? He said that I am a little sissy, a ridiculous mess, and that my husband, the man who promised never to betray me, gave her a box of chocolates and will propose to her to be his second wife.
The more she talks, the more sugar she clogs in my tea. How does Jandira dare treat Tonia this way? I hold Tonia's hand, preventing her from killing me with diabetes and grabbing her waist, not bothering to squeeze her hard.
She's my queen, the only woman in my life.
I would never, ever be crazy to do such a thing with my habibi. (my beloved)
I would never take another woman, another wife. Tonia is enough, she drives me crazy a little more each day, filling my life with so much love, so much laughter and so many fights.
She covers her face so I don’t see the tears that begin to seep from her eyes and she pulls herself away from me.
I bring her to my chest and kiss her untamed hair and her neck, bathed in the cinnamon and chocolate scent, which I love so much.
- Habibi, please, listen to me! She lied, I give you my word. For Allah, I did not know she treated you that way. Youssef, talk to Samyr now to replace Jandira immediately. So that's why you kicked me out of bed, that’s why you didn’t want to talk to me since yesterday?
She nods and shakes, hiding her tears with her face buried in my chest.
-I'm about to go insane, Hafiq. It's Bianca's kidnapping, Malika's risk-taking pregnancy, you know your sister is strong, you know how important she is to me. I've lost Manusha, it's not fair to lose anyone else. And yet there comes that ordinary, beaming daughter of the devil, to tell everyone that she has you in the palm of her hand.
Where did Jandira get that bullshit?
I never even looked at her, it seems like a nightmare, seeing my habibi upset like this,
Does this crazy woman know the risk of pissing Tonia off? The next time Jandira comes face to face with Tonia, I do not want to be in her skin. I don’t want to imagine if Tonia believed these lies and decided to go back to Brazil with the children, I do not know what I would be able to do!
-Never, habibi, how could you believe this snake, how could you drive me out of our room? That's what our enemies want. Do not let anyone ruin our union. Tonia, only you are my habibi, my beautiful lioness.
She gave me three beautiful children, Seth and Layla, my two twins, my treasures, and Kaled, the son I earned as a divine blessing, I do not let them do this to us, not after all we've been through together. I love you, my habibi.
Before I kissed and tossed my lioness on the office table, Youssef had already sneaked out the door, making no noise, leaving us alone.
CHAPTER 9
BIANCA
I take a long bath, feeling the jets of water massaging my shoulders, my back and as I sink in I think about the roller coaster that my life had become.
A few days ago, I was a girl who had never left Brazil, graduated in Archaeology, without knowing the ways I wanted to go in my profession.
Unhappy with my work at the museum, pruned and repressed by my mother who insists that I also live like her, a mediocre and bitter life, and suddenly, everything changed when I accepted Brenda's invitation to spend a vacation with her in Qatar.
Not without first hearing from my parents a thousand and one negative remarks about Brenda's inappropriate behaviour.
I pretended that I agreed with all the criticism made at Brenda's way of conducting her life, I made my suitcase putting in my baggage an immense desire to finally let go and here I am.
I look at this ostentatious room and agree, in my head, with Antonia, who before embarking on her new life in London, told me something, by referring to a song by Chico Buarque:
“For me, I’ve had enough of seeing the band pass by the window, I now want to accompany the procession, I need a little crazy, my friend, good girls don’t know how to live”.
Antonia lives happily alongside Sheikh Hafiq, against all the predictions that their relationship would never work out. Brenda followed her to try life in Qatar and when she least expected, she discovered the love of her life.
The two of them, when they put aside the short reins that led their lives, were finally happy. So, in the end, maybe Brenda was wise when she told me that sluts are having more fun.
I dress dark jeans, a pale pink T-shirt and a black all-star, ready to spice up my life with a sweet hint of uncertainty.
Through the window I see the striking contrast of the gold of the sun's rays, on a clean, cloudless blue sky, resting beneath a mound in the distance, and the vastness of the lands surrounding the royal palace of Bahrain.
I go down to the entrance of the palace, take advantage of this beautiful morning and go for a walk in the gardens. I've walked a lot and there's still so much to know, I run my hand across the forehead and dry the sweat on my jeans. Other strands of sweat run through my breasts, I'm clinging, thirsty, but sin
ce I'm far from the Palace, I decide to walk a little more.
I head towards the stall and meet Nahan in the stable, turned away, his muscled, outlined ass filling the riding pants.
What’s happening to me? Yesterday I was fucking with him like bitch in heat in all the ways, and today only by seeing the muscles of his arms, sweaty and tight, while tightening the harness of a horse, I almost salivate.
He still has not noticed my presence, which gives me still a long time to stare at his shape and watch his long legs, broad back and narrow, masculine waist. He turns in my direction and extends his hand for me to approach.
I hold his hand and he laces his fingers with mine, placing a chaste, light kiss on my lips.
-Did you sleep well, Bianca?
I answer as I caress the coat of the stallion in front of me.
-I slept, I dreamed of Brenda yesterday, it was so good. You know Nahan, it's just the two of us, my sister is a figurehead, so different from me: light, impulsive, there's nothing Brenda can’t do. When she wants something, that's it! She only stops when she wants.
Nahan releases my hand slowly and suddenly becomes serious, thoughtful. I shut up, not knowing what I said so unsettling that made him stay away that way.
Until he pulls a lock of hair close to my face and asks me,
-You miss her, don’t you?
I nod, this is a fact, I can’t deny I miss my family, especially my sister. He smoothes the horse's hair with me, without looking me in the eyes.
I see in his eyes such an impotence, a frustration. I stalk his gaunt gaze, trying to understand what's going on in his head at the moment, but Nahan slips from my hands without me actually knowing what to say, to get him out of this sudden apathy.
He sits down on a hard-wooden bench and I approach, taking the audacity to sit on his lap. From his expression, I realize that he was surprised by my initiative, but he does not move, he is still.
I wrap his arms around my waist and bury my hands in his hair, feeling the softness of his short hairs between my fingers. I've never been the kind of woman to speak what I feel, I've always been closer to restraint, to introspection, than to the verb, the cry.
These expressions of feelings, overflowing, and the clear and straightforward display of feelings has always been something inherent in Brenda.
Ever since I remember, I have always been the person to feel and guard, or simply to plaster, to contain, before any meaning ever surfaced.
But now, at this point that I feel clearly that Nahan silently asks a word, I surprisingly expose what I know he longs to hear. But instead of a statement, I open myself to a question, that since I got involved with him, I do it without finding a coherent answer.
-I do not know how to explain to you, as much as I miss my life, my sister, these days here have done me so well, that sometimes I wonder if this is not crazy? After all, damn! It's not like I came here on vacation, you brought me to your land, against my will, and then I wonder, why I don’t feel unhappy?
Nahan tightens my waist and hides his face in my hair, sniffing my neck, copiously absorbed in his thoughts, then he strokes the tip of my nose and gives me a laughter, sounding like a boy who receives a gift, something so beautiful and inexplicable, that I can only return, by smiling at him.
He pulls my hair back and stares at me, saying,
-I wonder, too, why do I feel so happy? And then I think, why do we need so much, to have answers for everything? Ah! My halawi, what are you doing to me, huh?
As we almost kissed we were interrupted by two little whinnies, I rise from Nahan's lap, and he then invites me to go horseback riding.
It was always something I wanted to do, and before I think about the statistics, of the scratches, if I fall, I take Nahan's hand and ride on the horse, tightening his grip as he gallops through a plethora of green lands. It's all so beautiful, trees laden with flowers, small wild animals, a flock of birds that cuts through the sky, the wind that touches and kisses my hair. Nahan stops at an artificial lake and we decided to rest a bit, before returning to the palace.
He goes to a bundle attached to the horse and pulls out a small quilt, placing it on the grass. I thank him and we both sit, staring at the horizon.
Very slowly his hand searches for mine and we intertwine our fingers, without saying a word that could define how we feel at this moment, in an unexpected communion. His fingers play with mine, brushing slowly in the palm of my hand, at the tips of my fingers, he turns my fist toward his mouth and kisses me once, twice. He lies me down on the bedspread and fits between my legs, covering me with his body, his elbows supporting his weight.
Nahan looks me in the eye unreservedly, twisting strands of my hair and kisses my cheeks and nose so sweetly that I'm not surprised when he says,
-I'll still find a safe way for you to tell your family that you're fine. But before I find a solution, I can’t risk them finding you. I like the way you fit perfectly in my arms, the taste of your mouth, your smell of strawberries, the peace I feel with the warmth of your skin. I can’t let anyone find out you're here, otherwise they'll try to get you away from me, halawi.
I squeeze him close to me, pulling his hair so that he takes my mouth, and he kisses me with pleasure, as we like, in our own way, sweet, wet, thought-provoking.
Just to hear him say that someone might want to tear me from him, my heart tightens. He smiles, glued to my lips and teases me:
-I suppose you feel good about being mine too, am I right?
I stroke his beard, just to do it, feeling the brush of the fluff between my fingers and conclude:
-You may be crazy, because I am your prisoner, but I like to be yours.
Prisoner? Who was the idiot who was standing in front of a locked door yesterday, begging for a look, a scream, anything she could give me? Who was the fool, who until a few hours ago was desperate like a lost boy, looking for his home? The irony of this story is that I am so far from this power that she believes to be mine, I am every day more involved, more entangled. Bianca is to me like a poison, invading my veins.
Thura's words now come to my mind, I pray to Allah to delay the moment when this crossroad shows up in front of me, but I see no escape. When my enemies, my allies, my people, pressure me to choose, will I be able to give up the hope that Bianca's arms bring me?
-My prisoner, no! Exclude the "prisoner", just mine, my halawi.
I bow my head in embarrassment and agree.
-Only yours, Nahan.
-Never lock the door for me again, Bianca, you drove me crazy yesterday.
I punch his chest, angry, how can he say this? Can he receive suitors for dinner and I have to accept willingly? I don’t have cold blood. I speak what is choked in my throat so that he understands once and for all that as quiet and sweet as I am, I am Latin, Brazilian, passionate by nature, my blood boils in my veins.
-Then do not make a fool out of me, on the contrary, if it was me having suitors at dinner, how would you feel, King Nahan?"
Nahan pulls my face, to face him and replies:
-First of all, I would never make a fool out of you, I do not underestimate your intelligence, Bianca. I received entrepreneurs and investors for dinner, this mockery of suitors belongs to the inventive mind of Mohamed, who has joined with some leaders and insists that I should take a queen; but did you see me paying attention to any woman, did I approach any of them?
But who assures me that he has not dealt with their parents behind my back? I find myself talking out loud what I suspect of, angry, bothered by the insistent jealousy.
-And you have not agreed to marry any of them behind my back? Just thinking about it makes me want to scratch you, Nahan.
Nahan glares at me without saying anything, pulls off his boots, pulls me up from the quilt, pulls off my sneakers and in a stupid romp, throws me on my shoulders, heading toward the lake, making me curse him, full of anger.
-Nahan, let me go, damn it, put me down.
- Wild kitten
s need cold water.
-You'll see the hot cat when I put my hands on you, you idiot!
I feel my butt burning with the popped slap he gives me.
-Cursing your king is not an acceptable behaviour, halawi.
He moves quickly to the edge, making my body shake on his shoulder, holds me by the waist and we sink together in the cold water.
When we come back to the surface, I wrap my legs around his waist and Nahan puts my arms around his neck, I cough from the water, pulling his soaked hair from his face and I complain:
-You mean now that you're my king, you're going to teach me good manners?
Nahan brushes his lips on mine, with a breath and looks at me deeply, concluding:
-If I'm not your king, then who else would I be?
I respond quickly, without blinking:
- My king, only mine.
-My halawi, only mine. And as your king, I demand that you obey me, give me your mouth, Bianca.
It's so easy to obey when what you're told is just what you want, the most.
We kissed under the warm desert sun, Nahan's mouth descending to the valley of my breasts, he takes off my T-shirt and lowers the bulge of my bra, sucking my breasts until I twist my horny fingers, leaving my pussy pulsating with the desire that he will bury himself in me. Nahan leaves the lake and puts me on the bank, covering my breasts with his hands and his mouth.
-I’m never getting tired of feeling the taste of your breasts, soft, round. See Bianca! How your reddish nipples shiver, so luscious to lick, to suck.
-Nahan, stop it, what if anyone shows up?
-Who would be the madman to see me and get close?
Before I can protest, Nahan opens my pants’ zipper and slides two fingers into my panties, making me pant from the knuckles on my clit, spreading my vagina’s juices, to lubricate my clitoris that’s becoming more swollen and more sensitive.
How can my body react to his touch so fast? I already feel the intense and hallucinating tingles in my belly, and him feeling my pleasure, taking me whole, Nahan sticks his lips to mine, choking my cry, muffling my moans, until I make myself cum so strong, that my eyes tighten to endure the feeling that shakes my whole body.