The story so far: Lisbeth Somerset is a 36-year old English workaholic who teaches human rights at a university in an Arab country. She is caught handing a bomb to the assassin who had plans to kill the children of the local ruler and of other dignitaries. That ruler, Sheikh Fouad, consumed with rage, considers the death penalty even too lenient for her and makes her an offer: she will be his prisoner for life having to serve him in his harem as a slave. From that moment on she is Rosebud. Having no way to prove herself innocent of the crime she realises her only chance will be forgiveness and to be granted that the best she can do is to try and be very good at what he wants her to be and warm his heart towards her.
However it is the Sheikh himself who does proves her innocent as he has each stone upturned because he cannot believe this woman he has gotten to know very well will ever be capable of murder. When he realises he has imprisoned an innocent woman he moreover forced to share his bed he immediately sets her free and puts her on a plane home to England. By this time she however is already pregnant.
Her homecoming is less joyful then one would imagine. People start to question her story as she is looking well and is obviously carrying someone's baby while people had expected her either dead or in a prisoncell. Her "married to a member of parliament"-sister is pissed off with her thinking she is damaging her husband's career by having whored while he was petitioning for her release. Wherever she goes tongues are wagging or eyes are following her around.
She realises that although she is happy to see her parents again she is missing the Sheikh at the same time. The only solution she sees is to go back to his country and beg him to take her back during one of his public audiences.
In the meantime the Sheikh is missing the woman he loves dearly but sees no solution as he thinks she does not want him and in his position he cannot even beg her to come back with him.
So when Lisbeth approaches him as a petitioner he tells her to do something Western women seem to do: ask the man she loves to marry her. See the edited and extended new version of chapter 6.
(written in UK-English spelling by a near native speaker. First draft edited by LJUS from the USA)
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Sheikh Fouad felt as if he was walking in a dream. She had looked up at him her blue eyes flooded with tears, all her defenses gone, and just like all those months ago in a reflex he had reached out to comfort her. To let her pain go away.
The packed audience room was full with people cheering. Her cold hand resting in his. His Rosebud was back! He wanted to hold her but in his culture he could not do that in public. So he raised a hand and the crowd grew silent again.
"My bride is very tired. I will escort her to her room and make sure she is settled in. Please sit down. My servants will bring you all some lunch. After the lunch break we will continue."
The people smiled when he walked Rosebud out of the room. Normally this would be the moment to consummate the marriage with a virgin bride but in their case it was obvious she had been his as she was already carrying a child. Nevertheless he wanted her badly. And the people would wait patiently for him to bed his new wife.
The moment the big gate to the harem closed behind the two of them he dragged her into a bear hug of an embrace. His arms around her back, her face buried in the embroidery on his robes covering the muscles of his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and for the both of them it was a moment of sheer happiness to just stand there in each other's arms and hear the other one's heartbeat and breathing. They did not talk but just stood there. The courtyard empty with the sun reflecting on the mosaic tiles, the fountain gurgling.
She drank in his familiar smell of soap, aftershave and male scent. He felt the soft curves of her body, the unfamiliar feeling of her baby belly.
He then lifted up her face and she smiled just before he covered her lips for a deep kiss. His fingers tugging at her long black scarf she had wrapped around her head to cover her hair. He let it fall on the floor and stoked her hair. The copper curls were hidden in a long braid and he started to unravel it drinking in the view of her big blue eyes and pink lips. His Rosebud.
He wanted her out of the black long coat hiding her from view. His fingers started to work on the buttons at her chest but then just tore it off her. Under the coat she however was still covered up all the way in conservative black pants and a pretty Moroccan blouse made from a veil like fabric over a layer of more solid fabric.
"You look so nice
habibi
." His hands went to cup her breasts. "I want you now!"
A fire seemed to flare in her belly.
"Not right now my Lord. I am sweating and stinking. I first need a bath... and I sure do like this blouse so best just let me undress myself." she added with a wicked smile preventing those garments to be ripped off as well.
"Ok woman. Let us walk then to the baths and you can have yourself made divine by Azziza but I do want to watch you undress and see you get naked. I want to see all of you!"
He took her hand and started to walk her to the baths. She suddenly realized she had refused him her body something she had never been allowed to do when she was his slave. Normally when he would voice the wish to have her the only thing she could do was let him enter her. Was this how things would be different between them?
They crossed the big courtyard passing the tinkling fountain and entered the baths. The area was filled with harem ladies having their morning beauty-ritual. The moment they saw Rosebud enter with their lord and master the young women looked surprised and started to chatter.
"It is Rosebud."
"Rosebud you are back."
The old harem matron Azziza walked up and scooped Rosebud in her arms not paying any attention to their lord.
"My foreign flower!"
The old lady rained kisses on her cheeks.
"Ladies," the Sheikh said: "I want some time alone here with my wife. Please leave the baths for now."
With a lot of surprised glances the girls ran off giggling but Azziza stayed put.
"Wife my Lord?"
"Yes my wife. I just made her queen-consort."
Tears appeared in the old lady's eyes and she hugged the foreign woman and kissed her again. Then in a sudden break with decorum ran her hands up the Sheikh's face to get his head down and kissed him too.
"Well done my lord. This one is someone to treasure."
He kissed the old lady on her hair in return showing off how fond he was of her.
"Please do wash Rosebud for me," he asked her.
The old lady nodded and took Rosebud by the hand walking her into the steam room of the Turkish bath. The Sheikh got rid of his robes and in just a pair of cotton pants he had worn under them as a kind of underwear followed the two women into the hot room. Along the side were stone benches and taps and in the middle of the colourful tiled room a big pedestal to lay down on.
While the Sheikh just sat himself on a bench against the wall Rosebud and Azziza started to undress Rosebud. She lifted her blouse over her head handing the garment to Azziza and having her back turned towards the Sheikh. Her pants followed and so were her very basic cotton panties.
He felt himself harden just by looking at her bending down to remove her panties giving him a brief glimpse of her sex. Small curls still covering it. Then she removed her black bra. From behind her pregnancy was still not visible. Her waist still curving inwards from her hips. She looked hot.
Rosebud felt suddenly awkward undressing in front of a man who had seen her dozens of times naked and had taken her in his bed even more often. She sat herself on the hot stone pedestal. Now her nude body in full view of the Sheikh. She felt his eyes roam over her. His eyes seemed to burn with arousal. She could not look away from him.
"What did you do with your nipple and bellybutton piercings?" he asked her staring at her bare flesh.
"Airport scanners."
The Turkish bath was so hot sweat started to pour from all her pores. Azziza slowly poured cold water over Rosebud to cool her down. All dirt and sweat sluicing away. Her skin turning pinkish.
Azziza rubbed shampoo in her long hair and started to sponge her whole body with some nice smelling soap.
"Lay down my sweet," said Azziza moving Rosebud on her back on the pedestal moving the soapy cloth in between her legs. Rosebud noticed the big bulge in the Sheikh's pants. Azziza started to shave her body all the way down from her eyelashes. Pushing her legs open to shave her mound and labia as well.
It reminded Rosebud of that day more then half a year ago when she had done the same to a frightened English woman and how an angry Sheikh had taken her nipple in his hand. Had she then laid on her back in fear waited for him to claim her now she wished she could get up and wrap her arms around him.
She had her eyes fixed on him. The hands he used to pour cold water over himself were shaking.
Done with the washing and the removing of her body hair Azziza dried Rosebud and turned her around to start massaging her with fragrant oil. At that moment Sheikh Fouad lifted himself off the bench and reached out his hand. "Azziza let me massage Rosebud". The old lady handed him the oil and stepped back.
Rosebud felt his strong hands on her naked back and shivered. His fingers started to dig in all her tensed up muscles, circling and kneading. They moved over her shoulders down to her arms to go back to her shoulders to descent again to her lower back. A deep feeling of relaxation descended on her.
Then he started on her legs and she tried to move away from the sudden pains in her stiff calves. The tickling under her feet. "Hush woman, lay still."
He turned her around. Her breasts now staring him in the face. Her nipples hardened into dark pebbles her pink areolae hardly contrasting with her alabaster skin. He tried to concentrate on massaging her legs, her hips, her belly to end up with both his hands covering her globes circling her nipples.
The old lady handed him a jar. "This my lord has to go between her legs and into her folds. It oils the area so you..."
He grabbed the jar but touching her there was their undoing. They had been longing for each other for over two months. His hand rubbing her clit made her buck up her hips so without warning his massaging turned into sex.
The moment he sank a finger into her channel a moan escaped her.
His fingers playing her and her whole body tensing up in pleasure, convulsing again and again. One wave after the other, wetness pooling from her. Covering his moving fingers with her thick honey. Her whole body writhing, her hips bucking. Climaxing on his hand again and again.
In a moment of respite laying naked spread out for him her breath laboured she whispered like a mantra "Please, please, please."