"That's it, my beauty," he encouraged her. "Now cup my twin jewels in your palm. They are cool to your touch, are they not?"

She nodded slowly.

"They are filled with the seeds of life, Noor. When you are ready I will plant those seeds within you, my beauty. Cease your sweet torture now. In a moment or two I shall not be able to restrain my desire for you, and you are far from ready to meet my passion."

Her hand dropped away, and she hid her head in his shoulder. Those last moments had been very exciting, and she could feel her heart beating faster than it had previously.

"Your Christian men put women into four categories, Noor. Wives, mothers, whores, or saints. They do not share the secrets of pleasure with their mates. We men of Islam do, and we do not confine ourselves to only one woman. Such a thing is unnatural for a man. No one woman can satisfy all a man's passions."

"They tell me you have three wives, my lord caliph."

"I do, although the two younger I may dismiss, for they are quarrelsome creatures ever at odds with the lady Alia and the other women of my harem. Indeed, they may have been responsible for the death of a particularly lovely girl I had decided to favor. Baba Haroun is still investigating, and he will get to the bottom of the matter, I promise you. He is very protective of the lady Alia."

"Lady Alia is a gracious lady and was kind to me," Rhonwyn told him.

"She has already spoken in your favor, my Noor, which is why I will be patient with you." He tilted her face to his again and began to kiss her with far more passion than he had previously. Her instinct was to fight him, but something else overcame Rhonwyn, and she instead melted into his embrace, her mouth softening beneath his.

Why am I doing this? she silently asked herself. But she had no answer. All she knew was that this man was strong and gentle, and her will to resist was growing weaker. What if all they told her was true? That she could not escape Cinnebar. And what if Edward would not have her back? She had surely disobeyed him by involving herself in battle, as he had forbade her. Oh, God! I do not know what I am to do! What was the matter with her?

"I cannot give you pleasure," she whispered as she pulled away from his mouth.

"You already have," he told her softly.

"I do not know how to receive pleasure," she said desperately.

"I will teach you," he promised her. Then his mouth was hungrily seeking hers again, his tongue pushing past her lips to do battle with her senses.

Rhonwyn half sobbed, her resistance dissolving as her curiosity aroused itself. Perhaps her inability to know pleasure was Edward's fault. Their first mating had not been pleasant. But this man was different. Mayhap he could teach her to relish passion. She could not know ii she would not yield herself to him. And if she was not to return to Edward de Beaulieu, then what else was there for her but this life? As Nilak had told her, life at the top of the harem was better than at the bottom. She pulled away from him again. "Teach me, my lord caliph," she told him. "Teach me of passion!"

He took her face between his two hands and gazed directly into her emerald green eyes. His eyes, she noted for the first time, were a deep, deep blue, almost black. "My passion is a fierce thing, Noor,” he warned her, "and you are easily fearful and shy. I want you with every fiber of my being, but I want you to know great pleasure as well. I can see you know little of the delights between a man and a woman. 1 will show you all those sweet enjoyments, but you must know that 1 will not harm you or hurt you or give you pain in any of these pursuits. If you are afraid, you will not be abashed and unable to tell me. Our pleasure can be approached in a variety of ways, and all are equally delicious. Will you trust me, my beauty?"

She nodded, her heart hammering with anticipation. Why had not her husband ever said these things to her? For a moment she was angry at Edward, but then she realized that he probably knew as little as she did about passion, although as a man, he would assume he knew all.

The caliph began to kiss her face gently. Her lips. Each of her cheeks. The tip of her nose. Her closed eyelids. Her forehead. Then releasing her face from their soft grip, his hands began to caress her body, smoothing down her neck over her shoulders, sweeping along her long back to cup her buttocks in his hands. He fondled the twin moons, and some deep instinct made her arch her body. With a soft cry he covered her straining throat, her chest, and her small swollen breasts with kisses. He buried his lips in the hollow of her throat, growling low. "How you intoxicate me, my beautiful warrior woman,'' he said in his deep voice. Then he gathered her up into his arms again and deposited her upon his bed.

Rhonwyn felt her heart thudding rapidly as he stood looking down at her. She did not love this man. Indeed he almost frightened her with his dark intensity, but something deep within her wanted him to continue onward. It would end in the terrifying act of coupling, she knew, but she still wanted to know everything he had to teach her, wanted his lips on her, wanted his hands that roused such feelings of utter roiling confusion inside of her.

He stared down on her for a moment before coming to lay by her side. She could have no idea of how beautiful she was with her perfumed breath coming in little gasps from between her sweet ripe lips. She did not know how exquisite her body was, silently inviting, almost wanton in her unrealized need to be loved by him. He lay his dark head upon her breasts. "Your heart beats so swiftly," he said to her.

"I am afraid, yet not afraid," she told him.

"Remember, I will not harm you, my lovely Noor. I will only love you and give you joy."

"I trust you, my lord caliph," she said low.

He raised his head and leaned over to kiss her breast. Then his mouth closed over its nipple, and he suckled upon her.

She started nervously, but then she let herself enjoy the exciting sensation of his mouth and tongue upon her tender flesh. Her hand reached out to caress his dark hair. It was surprisingly soft to her touch and slightly curly. Her slender fingers entwined themselves in and out of the curls even as he began to worship her other breast in the same manner as the first. Edward had loved her breasts in this manner, too, but it had not seemed quite so exciting, more of a perfunctory thing. Or was it that this was so forbidden?

His hands and mouth began to roam over her quivering body as his tongue had earlier. His hunger was building, even if his instincts warned him to move slowly. Her belly was taut beneath his mouth; the insides of her thighs were as soft as the finest Cathay silk. Her own fragrance filled his nostrils. Unable to prevent himself from doing so, he kissed her mons, then slowly ran his tongue down the pouting slash that hid the gates to paradise and all of her most precious treasures.

Rhonwyn shuddered at the touch of his tongue that now began to probe at her innermost secrets. His fingers gently drew her nether lips apart, holding them in a firm grip as his tongue caressed the flesh within. She felt his tongue acutely, particularly when it touched a most sensitive part of her. The tongue worried and worried at her. She felt a building of sensation within. Edward had touched her there, but always with his finger. The caliph's tongue was far more exciting. Rhonwyn gasped as the first distinct feeling of pleasure swept over her. "Oh!" she cried, and shuddered hard. The tongue persisted, and she again was overwhelmed, crying out once more as she reveled in the sweetness that engulfed her.

"You see," his voice came to her through the mists, "you can feel pleasure, my beautiful Noor." 1 le slowly pushed two fingers into her love channel, drawing them slowly back and forth, arousing her so that she would be ready to receive him. Carefully he began to cover her body with his, and then it happened.

Rhonwyn's eyes opened, yet they were sightless. "No!" she cried out, her voice filled with utter terror. "No!"

He ceased in his actions, quickly taking her back into his arms although his manhood felt as if it were going to burst. "What is it, Noor? What is frightening you so? Tell me, my beauty. Tell me!"

"He is hurting her! Oh, please, stop! Don't hurt my mam!"

Her words astounded him, but Rashid al Ahmet knew that the mind was a powerful weapon that could be used for good or evil; that could hide secrets and affect behavior in the most ordinary people. "Who is hurting your mother, Noor?" he asked her in kindly tones.

"I do not know him, but his garb is rich. He has come to our cottage. Mam is very afraid, yet he will not let her be! He calls her a whore and forces her to couple with him. He is hurting her! He is hurting her! Go away! Go away! Mam says our father must not know what has happened. She is bleeding. Don't weep, Mam. Don't weep!" There were tears on Rhonwyn's face now. "Mam says I mustn't let any man do to me what he has done to her. I must fight them! I'll be a good girl, Mam. I'll be strong for us both. The prince will never know. Tis our secret, Mam. Our secret."

The caliph rocked her in his arms. No wonder she had not been able to feel any pleasure. His poor beautiful Noor, but now it would all change for her. "Who raped your mother, Noor?" he gently asked her. "You were very little, weren't you?"

Rhonwyn's eyes opened, and she shuddered hard. "I never knew who he was," she said. "Probably someone who knew my father and knew where our cottage was hidden. My mother never knew if the third child she carried was his or the prince's. My father loved her and would have killed any man who touched her. I think that is what frightened her. She always said there was greatness in ap Gruffydd, and it should not be denied. She would not have wanted to be the cause of his failure. I was just four when it happened, and my brother still at her breast."

"Do you understand now what she meant when she warned you not to allow any man to do to you what was done to her? She did not mean you should not enjoy mutual pleasures, Noor, only that you should not find yourself in her uniortunate position." He stroked her hair tenderly. "Poor lady. How she must have suffered, and what a terrible secret both you and she kept. Sleep now, my beautiful one. Later when you awaken, I shall make love to you as you should be loved."

She was puzzled. She could see his manhood was still stiff with his desire for her. Reaching out, she touched him, saying, "I will not be afraid now, my lord caliph."

"You will be less fearful when you have slept, my beauty," he advised her. "You have faced terrible demons just now. Sleep the residue of them away, and then I will take you to paradise as a reward for your bravery, sweet Noor." He kissed her forehead.

"I am no longer a child, my lord caliph," Rhonwyn told him. "I am a warrior woman, and now I have confronted that which has secretly terrified me all these years. I need no rest, but I do need your passion to prove to me that I have truly overcome my terrors." She held out her arms to him.

Rashid al Ahmet covered her body with his own. His manhood, rampant and hungry for her, slid easily into her love channel. He watched her face carefully, but there was no longer any fear in her eyes. It had been replaced by a budding wonder and eager anticipation of what was to come. She was wonderfully tight and hot. "You are indeed fearless, my beautiful warrior woman," he complimented her. Then he began to move upon her.

Rhonwyn closed her eyes, enjoying the incredible sensation of him as he pushed slowly within her. She could feel the throb of his manhood as it delved into her depths. She was acutely aware of every tiny sensation he elicited from her. When he began to thrust and withdraw, thrust and withdraw, Rhonwyn knew that her mother, who had loved ap Gruffydd so dearly, would have never denied her this marvelous sense of utter delight. She arched her body to match his rhythm, crying out as a tiny sharp pulse of pleasure began to envelop her, building until it crashed over her like a large wave, leaving her weak and satisfied, piercingly aware of his hot love juices that were discharged deep into her now well-plowed field.

When she was finally able to breathe normally again, she said shyly, "That was wonderful, my lord caliph!"

"Rashid," he said to her. "My name is Rashid, and I shall never let you go, my beautiful Noor. You are mine forever!"