The Prince's Harem Box Set: The Prince's Harem Books 1-5

by Carly Roberts

  “Tie their legs too,” he said.

  My lips parted in surprise. I watched Kedar tie my left ankle to the corner bedpost, and Malik tie Alesha’s right ankle to the other corner, and then under the Prince’s instructions, Jasim tied my right ankle and Alesha’s left together, keeping our legs parted.

  We squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

  “Lie still,” the Prince snapped. He wasn’t yet over his anger, and I stopped fidgeting, afraid of making him even more cross with me.

  He gestured to Malik and Jasim to strip, which they did quickly, taking off their trousers so their cocks—already hard and eager for action—swung free.

  Then the Prince said, “Fuck their mouths.”

  I blew out a long breath, watching as Jasim walked around the bed and climbed on beside me. This I could cope with. I knew that Malik would be gentle with Alesha, who wasn’t yet as proficient with oral sex as I was.

  Jasim’s gaze met mine, and he winked again, telling me he was going to enjoy this, and then he straddled my ribcage. Fisting his cock, he gave himself a few long strokes before guiding the tip to my mouth.

  Wanting to please the Prince, and happy to take part if this was my punishment, I open my mouth and licked the tip of Jasim’s cock, removing the bead of moisture that had formed there. His breath hissed, and then he pushed his hips forward, burying himself in my mouth.

  Lying back on the pillows with my hands tied securely, I couldn’t do much, but I was happy to let Jasim do as the Prince had commanded and fuck my mouth however he wanted.

  He started off with slow thrusts, and I licked and sucked the head and the shaft, enjoying the salty, musky taste of him and the sensation of him filling my mouth. Next to me, I heard Alesha murmuring her pleasure too, and was pleased that she had been able to accept this punishment and enjoy it.

  Jasim steadied himself by leaning on the headboard behind us, and I looked up at his stomach and ribs as he set up a steady pace, then closed my eyes. He had bathed not long ago, I thought, and smelled of musk and sandalwood, the Prince’s favorite scent.

  My mouth filled with saliva, lubricating the passage of his cock inside, and soon the saliva was running over my lips and down my chin. I enjoyed oral sex, and it turned me on, and I could feel the delicious beginnings of an orgasm stirring deep within me.

  “Harder,” said the Prince.

  My eyes flew open. Jasim paused as if deciding whether he should obey, then obviously decided he didn’t have a choice. He pushed down, and I felt him slide farther into my mouth, right to the back of my throat.

  Luckily I’d had plenty of practice at this, and I relaxed as he began to thrust harder and deeper, accompanying it with deep groans as he began to lose control. I could feel my pussy swelling and moistening, the wetness coating my inner lips. Hunger grew within me. I wanted these men inside me—I wanted them to fuck me properly, most of all the Prince.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Prince walking slowly around the bed, first one way and then the other, hands still behind his back and eyelids at half-mast as he watched the proceedings.

  Beside me, Alesha coughed and gagged, and Malik eased back, trying to treat her gently. The Prince paused in his walk to watch and I wondered whether he’d insist that Malik thrust harder, but he didn’t.

  Instead, leaving them to proceed at their own pace, he walked back to my side of the bed and towered over us, dark and menacing. Conscious of his master’s presence, Jasim plunged deep into my mouth, thrusting slowly but firmly.

  I gave myself over to his movements, sucking hard, and as low grunts began to accompany each jerk of his hips, I sensed he was close to coming. I murmured my approval, anticipating the jets of silky liquid that were soon to slide down my throat. Although I loved the Prince beyond all others, I enjoyed giving pleasure, and longed for the bliss of release myself.

  To my frustration, though, at that moment the Prince said, “Stop.”

  Jasim cursed beneath his breath, but he paused and looked over, and beside me I saw Malik do the same.

  “Come here,” the Prince directed.

  The two slaves withdrew from our mouths and got off the bed. I couldn’t stop a groan of exasperation leaving my lips. Why had he told them to stop? It was very unusual—he loved to watch his wives and slaves climax, and multiple orgasms were a frequent occurrence in the bedchamber, to our delight.

  Jasim and Malik walked to him at the foot of the bed. I watched the Prince gesture to Jasim to turn around and lean on the high mattress, and then he murmured something to Malik. Obediently, Malik took up position behind the other slave.

  The Prince took a small bottle of oil from the nearby table, pulled out the stopper, and poured some over Malik’s fingers. The slave oiled his cock, then slipped his fingers between the cheeks of Jasim’s behind. His fingers probed, and Jasim groaned as they obviously found their target and lubricated the tight muscle.

  I wondered whether the Prince was going to join in the fun—I’d seen him occasionally penetrate his slaves, and I longed to watch his climax, to see that fierce and beautiful frown as he came.

  To my surprise, he leaned on the bedpost, arms folded, and merely watched as Malik inserted the tip of his cock into Jasim’s anus, and then pushed forward.

  I lay on the bed, panting and throbbing, as one slave took the other, loving and gentle at first, then gradually with greater force as passion took them over. The sight was so erotic I ached for release, but when I moaned, the Prince looked over at me, and his eyes were cool as stars.

  It was only then that I realized what the Prince’s torture was going to be. Tonight, he wasn’t going to let us give or release pleasure, or even let us watch him climax. He would make his slaves arouse us and share themselves with each other, but we would not enjoy the same gift ourselves. We would not take part in the Prince’s pleasure in any form tonight.

  I groaned and glanced at Alesha, whose miserable expression suggested she was coming to the same conclusion.

  Together we looked back at Malik, who was now fucking Jasim hard. As we watched, he reached forward, took Jasim’s cock in his hand, and stroked him firmly. Both men’s faces creased with pleasure. Malik pumped him hard, his oiled hand sliding easily over the other man’s solid cock, and Jasim grunted as the other man penetrated him, pushing in deep.

  Malik came first, spilling his seed inside Jasim and crying out with pleasure. The other slave climaxed moments later, ejaculating white fluid into Malik’s waiting hand. I longed to be a part of their play, to close my mouth over Jasim’s cock, or receive Malik’s erection in my own tight hole.

  I twisted and writhed on the bed, but I knew I would not be able to orgasm all the time I couldn’t touch myself or press my legs together.

  The Prince watched us all, his eyes burning with passion, but still he didn’t move.

  Malik finally withdrew, and Jasim pushed himself up. The Prince passed them both wet cloths, and the men wiped themselves clean, as the Prince always demanded.

  He spoke quietly to them both, and he slid his fingers into Malik’s dark hair, leaned forward, and kissed him. I bit my lip, envious of the affection the Prince was showing his slave. And although he loved Malik, I knew that tonight he was doing it to show Alesha and me that although we all belonged to him, he belonged to none of us, and it was a lesson we had to learn.

  Chapter Four

  Leaving Malik and Jasim to get themselves a drink, the Prince finally turned his attentions back to us. He gestured to Hamal and Kedar. “Lie beside them.”

  The two slaves stretched out next to us, making themselves comfortable.

  The Prince took his place leaning against the pole at the corner of the bed. “Arouse them,” he instructed. “But don’t let them come.”

  I sent him a pleading look, but he just returned it with a stony gaze, and eventually I closed my eyes. He’d tied me up and teased me plenty of times before, and I knew he used it as a way to help those who came to his bedchamber lear
n to control their orgasms.

  But this was different. This was being used as punishment. How long was he going to torture us like this?

  Kedar leaned down and covered my nipple with his mouth. I sighed and bit my bottom lip as he sucked, his tongue stroking at the same time. I felt a surge of anger toward the Prince at punishing us this way. He wanted to see us writhing with pleasure, and he wanted to hear us beg for release.

  Well, I would not beg, and I would try to control my desire. I would not give him that satisfaction.

  Kedar swapped to my other nipple, leaning across me, flicking the first with his finger. The wet skin was ultra-sensitive, and I stifled a groan. He sucked there, then returned to the first, and continued this game, sucking, flicking, sucking, flicking, until my nipples lengthened and darkened, standing tall and hard like two rubies balanced on my breasts.

  I refused to look at the Prince. He knew how much I loved my nipples being played with, and how responsive they were. He would know how much I was suffering. But I refused to squirm, even though beside me I heard Alesha exhaling with a long aaahhh of pleasure as Hamal teased her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the Prince leave his corner and walk around the bed toward me. He stopped and leaned against the post just behind me, and I felt his heated stare on my body as he looked down.

  “Harder,” he instructed Kedar. His deep voice was husky with desire. We were turning him on.

  Obediently, Kedar sucked my nipple hard. I couldn’t stop my body jerking in response, but I didn’t cry out.

  The slave swapped to the other nipple and did the same there, then took the first between his thumb and forefinger, and tugged it.

  I bit my lip firmly to stop myself crying out.

  He did it again, apparently understanding what the Prince wanted. His hot mouth sucked, and his fingers plucked.

  “Harder,” said the Prince.

  Kedar pinched my nipple. It hurt, but like thunder following lightning, pleasure immediately spiked through me, sharp and intense. My head came off the pillow, but still I didn’t cry out.

  “Again,” the Prince demanded.

  Kedar followed his orders, sucking one nipple hard, pinching the other. I was panting now, my internal muscles clenching with need, desperate for release, but I knew none would be coming. I could feel my clit pulsing, begging to be touched, but no fingers or mouths would ease its ache tonight.

  Beside me, Alesha was writhing and moaning. I knew Hamal would be gentler with her. It annoyed me that the Prince had not instructed him to be rougher. Why was my punishment worse than hers?

  Kedar’s teeth grazed one nipple and he pinched the other, and I finally cried out. “Fuck!” Falling back onto the pillows, I cursed myself for my weakness as the Prince laughed.

  “What is wrong, Farah?” he teased. Gesturing for Hamal to stop, the Prince climbed onto the bed, moved over me, straddling my hips, and looked down at me, amused.

  “Nothing,” I said. I would not beg.

  His eyes were light with humor. Moving back, he kissed down my belly, then lowered himself between my thighs.

  Gently, he blew warm air across my pussy.

  My lips parted, and I stared up at the ceiling.

  He brushed his nose up my center, inhaling as he went. I rolled my eyes. The man had a thing about scent, and never failed to have a good sniff when he got his head down there. Thank goodness I’d had a bath.

  “Did you just roll your eyes?” he asked.

  I closed them, trying not to smile. “No.”

  “My, my,” he murmured. “You really are asking to be punished tonight.”

  “I…ohhh…” The words fled my head as he touched his tongue to my clit. Just the briefest of licks, but it was like swimming in warmed honey.

  He lifted his head and examined my pussy, dropping a hand to part my inner lips.

  “You are very swollen, Farah,” he stated.

  I huffed a sigh.

  “And very wet.”

  “I’m not listening,” I said.

  He chuckled. “You lie there trying to pretend you are not aroused, and yet your body tells me otherwise.”

  “It is like a stray dog,” I mumbled. “It will not do as it’s told.”

  He laughed again—he was enjoying himself. At least he was no longer angry.

  Lowering his head, he ran his tongue up through my folds.

  I tugged my hands, wishing I could free them and sink them into his hair. I wanted him to make me come with his tongue, and I wanted to feel him slide inside me. I needed his body on top of mine, needed to feel his muscles beneath my fingers, and to be there when he jerked and shuddered into me.

  But my hands were tied, and as the Prince played with me, I could only lie there and take it.

  He was such an expert at this. He knew exactly how to tease me without letting me come. His fingers slid into me, deep, and I clenched around them, sighing. Withdrawing them, he pressed back the hood around my clit and placed a light kiss on it. I shivered, yearning, frustrated.

  I rolled my head to look at Alesha. She was watching us, her eyes full of desire as Hamal continued to tease her nipples. I was impressed that she wasn’t crying out, though—it looked as if she had decided she wouldn’t beg either.

  The Prince flicked his tongue through my folds, small, light licks that did nothing to ease the ache within me but only made it grow. If he’d let Kedar continue to suck my nipples, I think I might have come anyway, even without any other stimulation, but Kedar remained silent by my side, watching us.

  “So wet…” the Prince murmured, smoothing my moisture up through my folds. “And yet still you do not beg me for release, Farah. I think maybe I have lost my touch.”

  I opened my eyes and looked at him. The humor had disappeared from his eyes. He was still angry. He loved us, and he was enjoying our arousal, but he had not yet forgiven us for what we’d done.

  He wanted me to beg him to let me climax, and yet I knew that even if I did, he would not let me come. He wanted to prove to himself that he had complete control over me.

  To my horror, a little seed of stubbornness grew inside me. Part of me wanted to beg, wanted to plead for him to forgive me and ask him to grant me pleasure. But the little seed spread through me and kept my mouth shut.

  Go on then, I thought, make me beg.

  He looked across at Alesha. She, too, remained silent.

  The Prince’s eyes darkened. Lifting up, he moved back off the bed and ran his hands through his hair. I heard him curse under his breath as he stalked away and poured himself a drink.

  I tried not to laugh. The poor man. We were still driving him insane.

  He drank his wine, and I heard him talking to Malik, speaking in curt tones. The slave replied in his usual gentle manner. What were they discussing?

  “I do not know,” I heard Malik murmur as they came a little nearer.

  The Prince said something, and Malik replied, “She but follows Farah’s lead.”

  They must have wondered why Alesha hadn’t yet pleaded for release. The slave had blamed me. Thank you, Malik!

  Again the Prince spoke softly. Malik hesitated. “It is late, and you are tired, my Prince. Why don’t you let us give your wives pleasure, and do the same for you, and then you can sleep—”

  “No.” The Prince spoke sharply. He walked away and poured himself more wine.

  Malik glanced over at us. Through the curtains, I could see his wary expression.

  Outside, the wind rattled at the shutters, moaning to be let in. Little eddies of sand whirled across the carpet. I could smell the desert, the cool air from the oasis washing over me briefly, tightening my nipples, bringing with it the scent of figs and pomegranates and the spices the Indians had brought from the east.

  The Prince crossed the room and pushed aside the curtains. He’d removed his tunic and wore only his trousers. His eyes blazed, hotter than I’d ever seen them before, angry and determined.

  He ges
tured for the slaves beside us to get up.

  Then he said, “Turn them over.”

  Chapter Five

  Leaving my wrists tied, Kedar’s rough hands lifted me and turned me onto my front, and beside me, I saw Hamal do the same to Alesha. My heart raced. I knew what was coming, and unfortunately I doubted it would be me.

  “Lift them up,” the Prince instructed.

  Kedar yanked me up onto my knees. I rested on my elbows, my bottom high in the air.

  “Bring oil,” the Prince said. “Make sure they are well lubricated.”

  I rested my forehead on my arms and tried not to groan. The bed shifted as Kedar moved behind me. He pushed my knees wider apart on the mattress so he could kneel between them.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Prince walk around the bed and lean on the post in the far corner, not far from Alesha, although I had the feeling his eyes were on me. Malik had said She but follows Farah’s lead, and I was sure the Prince was determined to break me first, certain that Alesha would follow.

  Malik came through the curtains, and I turned my head to watch him pass a bottle of oil to each slave. Kedar tipped some onto his fingers, and I heard the slick sound of his hand passing over his cock.

  Then I felt his hand on the base of my spine. He stroked his fingers down between the cheeks of my bottom, smoothing oil in the crease. After pausing to pour more oil on his fingers, he did it again. I felt a rush of relief—at least he seemed determined to make sure it wouldn’t hurt.

  The tip of one of his fingers pressed against my tight hole, and then I felt the muscle give as he pushed it inside.

  I sank my teeth into my hand to muffle a groan. Kedar might sometimes be rough, but he was as skilled as the rest of the Prince’s slaves in pleasuring women. The slaves knew their master enjoyed watching others being slowly aroused, and they had learned to hold back their own climaxes until the Prince let them come.

  Kedar removed his finger, then did it again, bringing oil with it to lubricate the passage inside. After several thrusts of his finger, he pressed another with it, sliding both deep inside me, pausing to let me adjust.