Sweet Revenge 19

Author's note: Here is the third book that I had mentioned. It was actually the first book I wrote, and I am having to make major changes to it before submitting it here on Literotica. I will submit the chapters as quickly as possible, but I beg your patience. It will be much better with edits, but my time for writing is limited right now, as I am a very busy student. I really should be studying for finals right now :) I always was a bit of a procrastinator, and what better way to procrastinate than by writing... I wrote this story several years ago. I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

A light fog hung like a curtain over the desert valley, soon to be burned away by the rising morning sun. Wispy tendrils trailed up the sides of the mountains and curled into the few trees that were scattered throughout the camp. An eerie silence permeated the air, as the people lay asleep in their tents, and the livestock had not yet roused.

Ameena stretched as she woke up, and she smiled as she thought about the previous night. The lovemaking with her husband, Rashid, had been better than ever, and a delightful grin spread across her face as she remembered the things he had done with her. She replayed the events in her mind, the soft caresses, the heated moans that had escaped her as her husband had systematically explored every part of her body through which he could bring her pleasure. She would have to rise soon and help Fatima prepare breakfast. Her husband would be returning from his morning patrol before long, and he and his men would be famished.

A low rumbling came from the west, slowly growing to a roar, as she realized it was the sound of many riders. She must have slept longer than she thought. Ameena jumped from her pallet and scrambled to don her dress, just as a group of about thirty men raced into the camp.

Ameena ran out from her tent to see that it was not her husband returning, but a group of Englishmen. The invaders brandished swords and torches as they cut a path of destruction through the center of the camp, quickly overpowering any who resisted them. Ameena screamed as she watched the few men who had stayed in the village being beaten or killed. She was helpless to defend herself, much less them. She watched in horror as the scene unfolded, before she turned to flee into the hills. Instead, she ran into a man standing behind her. She recognized him as the leader of the group and tried to dart away from him, but he closed strong hands around her arms and jerked her against his chest.

"This one is mine," he told his followers with a leering smile on his face.

Ameena struggled frantically as he dragged her back into the tent and threw her down onto her bed. She hit the pallet and immediately tried to scramble off the far side, but her attacker was too fast for her. He grabbed her by her long hair and hauled her back onto the bed. Her mind raced trying to determine when her husband and his men would be returning. Surely he would be here any minute to save her from this nightmare.

A rending tear separated Ameena's dress from neckline to waist, baring her breasts. Her attacker pinned both her hands above her head with one of his and groped her full breasts. "Ah, look at what I've discovered!"

"Please, don't! My husband will kill you!" she cried desperately.

Her attacker's face registered his surprise. "You speak English!" His features relaxed into a sneer. "Well, most of you Bedouins learn our language while you are busy picking English pockets and serving as our whores!" He laughed heartily and then looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Your husband is the Sheik Rashid, is he not?" When she refused to answer, he slapped her viciously across the face, bringing a trickle of blood to the corner of her mouth. "Answer me!" he yelled.

She gave a hesitant nod, and he gave a low laugh of satisfaction. Sheik Rashid had been a thorn in his side for the past several months, and he had searched diligently to find his camp, and his wife. He stroked a thumb over her swollen lip, as he leered down at her. "I want your husband to know that I have had his wife!"

He trailed slobbery kisses down the side of her throat and over her breasts, enjoying her struggles as she tried to elude him. With a snarl, he took her nipple into his mouth and bit down hard, wrenching a scream from Ameena and leaving marks on her tender flesh. She thrashed desperately, but she couldn't gain an advantage.

Ameena felt his knee forcing her thighs apart, and she fought even harder for her release. A shadow fell over his shoulder, and he turned just in time to see Fatima approaching with a club, poised to bash in his skull. He roared in rage and batted the club away before he struck a fierce blow across the other woman's skull. She flew across the tent like a ragdoll, landing in a senseless heap. It was just enough of a distraction for Ameena to squirm loose and start scrambling off the pallet.

"Oh no, you don't!" He yanked her back by her hair once again, and threw her forcefully across the pallet. Her head struck a wooden chest with a sickening thud, and she lay still. Her attacker raped her brutally, plunging into her pussy until spasms of pleasure finally racked his body. He spurted his seed deep inside her and withdrew to spurt the last on her belly and breasts. When his orgasm finally ended, he stood looking down at her with an evil grin as he refastened his pants. She hadn't moved since he withdrew, and she lay fully exposed to his lustful gaze, his milky seed smeared over her body.

"Let your husband enjoy you now, Bedouin whore! Every time he takes you, he will know that I enjoyed you on this day!" He chuckled to himself, and left the tent. He yelled to his men to mount up, and before they left, he turned to a young boy of ten or so years.

"Do you speak English?" When the boy nodded, he said "tell your Sheik that Sir William Sinclair was here, and that I enjoyed his wife!" With that, he wheeled his horse around and the riders raced out of the camp.

The villagers slowly began to take stock of the dead and the injured, and the sound of their mournful cries rose softly on the breeze. Inside the tent, Fatima finally roused and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She sat up and saw Ameena sprawled naked on the bed, with her limbs at grotesque angles, the remains of her dress lying in tatters around her.

Fatima ran to her and cradled her head in her lap, but Ameena didn't move. Fatima felt a sticky wetness on the back of her head, and pulled her hand back to see blood smeared on her arm. Her eyes widened in horror, as she noticed Ameena's eyes were open and glazed.

Fatima released a low keening wail as she cradled Ameena's head against her breast and rocked back and forth. Her head jerked up in fear when she again heard the sound of horses approaching the camp, this time from the East.

Rashid gazed around the village as he slid from the saddle. He quickly scanned the faces staring up at him, but he didn't see the face he sought. He turned and ran to his tent, flinging the flap aside. His heart congealed into a cold lump when he saw Ameena sprawled naked and unmoving on the bed. He ran to her side as Fatima raised her head and look at him tearfully.

"She's dead, she's dead," Fatima cried. She tenderly brushed the hair from Ameena's face as she sobbed in despair.

Rashid swallowed convulsively, choking back tears before he managed to speak. "Who did this?" Rashid asked in a low, gravely whisper.

Fatima shook her head. "I don't know. They were some Englishmen, but I didn't recognize them."

"Leave us," he said softly.

Fatima slowly rose and left the tent, hanging her head in despair. Rashid slowly sank to the bed and lifted Ameena's limp body across his lap. He looked into her dark brown eyes, devoid of their usual warmth and humor. Her body was still warm in his arms, and he buried his face in her long, dark hair. It had been only a few hours before when he had left her sleeping peacefully, and now he would never again see her beautiful smile or feel her arms around him.

"I will avenge you," he whispered with quiet conviction. "I swear your murderer will pay for this!"

********

Chapter One

Cairo, Egypt

1883

Karina Sinclair surveyed the ballroom from behind a huge potted palm tree. She didn't want to be here tonight, but her father had insisted she attend the Viceroy's ball. Sir Evelyn Baring had become the first British Consul-General of Egypt, and a massive ball was being given in his honor. The British nobility were turning out in force to show their support of Sir Baring's appointment, and of course, they each had some small favor they wanted to ask of him. Karina had no doubt that his evening would be even more trying than hers.

She knew her father was anxious for her to find a suitable husband, and tonight, every eligible English lord in Cairo was in attendance. Her father had given her an ultimatum to choose a husband tonight, or he would choose for her. Her time was running out, and a sense of panic had begun to take root in her mind.

Karina had already met many of the prospective grooms at other parties over the last three seasons, and they were all the same. Most of them dressed in clothes that had more lace than her own dresses, and they all vied for her attention like a bunch of hungry puppies competing over a particularly tasty bone.

Karina could already predict how the evening would progress. The eligible bachelors would strut and prance like a bunch of peacocks, and she would be bored out of her mind before the night was over. It wasn't that she didn't want to find a husband, it was just that the selection of prospects she had seen thus far didn't leave her much hope of finding the man of her dreams tonight. Besides, she didn't know why her father was in such a rush, she was only nineteen. There was plenty of time to find a suitable husband.

She sighed as she remembered how she had briefly considered pretending to be indisposed, but Mrs. White, their governess, had seen right through her ploy. "You're going tonight, if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming," she had told her sternly.

"I don't see why I have to go, I've met all these men already," Karina moaned petulantly.

Mrs. White looked at her over the top of her spectacles, all the while brushing out Karina's golden hair. "Not all of them. Your father said there would be several eligible men there tonight who don't frequent the other parties. Perhaps you will find one of them more to your liking."

"I wish I could go," Karina's sister Elizabeth said dreamily from where she lay across the bed, watching the preparations for the ball. She was fifteen and had not yet been presented to society. "I would give anything to be able to wear the gorgeous ball gowns you have and attend grand parties where men are falling at my feet."

Karina ruffled Elizabeth's hair affectionately and gave her one of her big sister looks. "Don't worry darling. You will have your coming out next season, and then you will know how I feel. It's not as fun and glamorous as you think."

Elizabeth looked at her dubiously. "You're just too picky. What about Lord Haversham? He's so handsome and refined. He would make you a fine husband."

Karina snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "He would bore me to tears, with his nose always buried in some book."

"You said you wanted a husband who is intelligent and well educated."

"Yes, but I want him to have an enthusiasm for life as well."

Elizabeth thought about that for a moment. "Well, what about Lord Kincaid then? He is full of life, and very witty. And he is handsome enough to turn any woman's head."

"That's the problem. He turns too many women's heads. I've heard it rumored that he has had more mistresses than any man in Egypt."

Elizabeth giggled, and even Mrs. White couldn't keep a smile from her face. "You know as well as I that you could have Lord Rawlins for a husband. Papa says he has been working hard to increase his wealth and holdings, and you could do far worse."

Karina shuddered as she thought of the arrogant Lord Rawlins. He was the second son of a prominent British family, and he had come to Egypt to carve out his own destiny. According to Karina's father, the man was doing quite well for himself. Lord Rawlins had already accumulated a reasonable amount of land, and he had built an elegant house in Cairo. He had been working closely with her father over the last few months, and he had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Karina for his wife. In fact, she had already refused several of his marriage proposals, but he seemed determined not to accept a negative response.

Karina firmed her jaw, as she looked at her sister with a frown. "He is the last man I would choose for a husband! And I'm not so sure he isn't more interested in Father's wealth than he is in me. He certainly seems to be obsessed with power and money."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, you're sure to find a husband soon, possibly even tonight. Papa said that some of the more wealthy and influential lords would be there tonight, including Lord Bryant. I was speaking with Mirabelle yesterday, and she said that every one of the matrons would give their right arm if he would simply notice their daughters, but that he almost never attends the parties. No one knows anything about him other than that he is outrageously wealthy, devilishly handsome and extremely elusive. It would be quite a feather in your cap, if you were to snare him for a husband."

Karina had also heard whispers of Lord Bryant, and they always seemed to be exaggeratedly complimentary. He was rumored to be a fabulous lover, although if he had taken a mistress recently, he was being awfully discreet about it. If the gossips were to be believed, most of the women in Cairo wanted to attract his attention, even if only for one night. Karina really couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. One man was very similar to another, at least among the ones she had met.

"If Lord Bryant does attend tonight, I doubt that he will even notice me, especially if what you say is true and all the ladies are throwing themselves at him. I am certainly not going to spare him any special attention," she told her sister with a superior tilt of the chin.

Elizabeth gave her an exasperated look. "You won't have to. He won't be able to overlook you. You will have his and every other gentleman's attention tonight. You simply have to keep an open mind and give them all a fair chance to win your favor."

"Your sister is wise beyond her years," Mrs. White said as she put the finishing touches on Karina's upswept hair. "Now, let's get you into this new gown." She helped Karina into her gown of silver blue taffeta and laced it tightly up the back, then stood back and gazed at her handiwork. "There's no doubt you will be the most beautiful lady at the ball tonight. You're even lovelier than your mother, rest her soul."

Karina flushed from the compliment, for her mother had been a great beauty. She smiled and turned to survey her image in the full-length mirror. She was a bit stunned by the woman staring back at her. Her hair was the color of pale honey, and it had been swept up on her head, leaving long ringlets to trail down to her neck. Her large eyes were even a darker blue than normal, enhanced by the color of her gown. Her nose was small and pert, her lips were sensuously full, and her cheeks were creamy with just a hint of rose color on their higher curves. She was tall and slender, with long flowing limbs. Her waist was small, but her breasts and hips were curved enough to tempt any man.

Her gown was the latest style, cut low across her bosom and down her back to emphasize her flawless complexion. She had no doubt the men would ogle her every time she curtsied tonight, and she made a mental note to make good use of her fan. Her only jewelry was a double strand of pearls and a pair of matching pearl drop earrings that dangled prettily from her ears. In all, she presented an entrancing vision of feminine beauty.

"Hurry, child. Your father is waiting impatiently for you." Mrs. White held her wrap, and hugged her briefly before sending her down the hall toward the stairs.

As she approached the stairs, Karina saw her father, William Sinclair, speaking with Abdul, one of the new housemen, in the foyer. Her father wasn't a patient man, and he began to pace restlessly once Abdul had left to perform his duties.

William Sinclair had worked hard his entire life, and his efforts had certainly kept him looking youthful. His hair was dark chestnut brown, with only a sprinkling of gray hairs at his temples. His eyes were the same sapphire blue as his two daughters, but his features were stern. He had a strong, square chin and an aquiline nose, while his cheekbones were finely chiseled. Only his lips were full, softening his features enough to keep him from appearing harsh. Overall, he was an extremely handsome man, and there were plenty of women who would love to gain his interest. However, he was too busy raising his daughters and managing his affairs to have any interest in remarrying.

William Sinclair held high expectations for his two daughters. His wife, Louisa, had died giving birth to a stillborn son. Elizabeth had been only four, and Karina had been eight, and he had been left to raise his daughters on his own. He had brought them to Egypt a year later to start a new life. He wanted his daughters to settle into happy marriages and to get on with the business of providing him with some grandchildren.

William released a sigh, as he thought about the past few months, when he had tried to convince his eldest daughter to accept a husband. He had been patient through two seasons, hoping that Karina would meet a man who struck her fancy, but she was not interested in any of the young men who had pursued her. William had begun to lose patience at the beginning of the third season, when she still hadn't shown the merest infatuation with any man, and he had determined to be more forceful with her. However, his daughter shared his stubborn nature, and his attempts at subtle persuasion usually ended in a heated argument.

Just the week before, William had received a proposal from Lord Haversham, a young nobleman with a good family and a respectable fortune. William remembered the scene that had unfolded when he presented the proposal to Karina.

Karina had dismissed it with a wave of her hand, while she wrinkled her nose. "Papa! How could you even think I would be interested in him for my husband? He is much too serious, and he always has his nose in a book. I tried to discuss some of the latest news from England with him, and he had no idea what I was talking about. Then, he started quoting poetry to me. Love sonnets, ugh!"

William had tried to stifle his anger and reason with her. "Karina, the young man was trying to be romantic. You have to give him some time. Maybe you will warm up to him, if you only give him a chance."

"I will never warm up to him. He's a total bore!"

"Life is not all fun and games, Karina!" William paused to lower his voice back to a reasonable level. He took a deep breath and tried a different approach. "Karina, you are not getting any younger. You are extremely beautiful, but you are already in your third season. If you don't choose a husband soon, the gentlemen will lose interest in you and turn to more willing females."

"Good, then maybe I can concentrate on men who are not so ridiculously fickle!" She held up a hand to stall her father's heated response. "Papa, I've met all the men you are referring to, and I am not interested in them. I want a mature man, someone who can discuss things with me, who looks at me as his equal and not just some decoration for his home!"