A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

in reach, and in heat. Abigor bounds over to me in three graceful, yet manly steps and grips me by the neck, pressing me to the sheets forcefully.

At first I'm scared that he doesn't like that I was reading his book without his permission and is going to choke me, but then I realize that he's smirking, his grip on my neck lessening quickly.

"What are you doin'," he whispers softly in my ear. "Loungin' on my bed like 'dat. Lookin' so…so fuckable."

I want to gasp, but the wind has been locked out of my lungs as his heavy, naked body pins mine to the bed. I begin to struggle, but he mistakes my attempt at escaping his arms as passion.

He groans loudly, his head collapsing against his chest. "Ungh. Eliz'bella…" His voice makes my body betray my mind; I'm aroused. His erection is pressing into me, and I realize that I must have pressed my pelvis into him.

He looks up into my eyes, his big brown orbs blazing with lust. "You want me." Oh, there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him…well, I definitely wanted something, but I just couldn't put my finger on it exactly.

Suddenly, I become overcome with panic. I shove at his shoulders, prying his arms off of my body. "Stop!" I squeal weakly. He instantly releases me, stepping back, the lust bleeding out of his eyes like water on paint.

"I hurt you?" he asks me.

The look on his face makes my heart ache. He's confused, and both upset and angry with himself. I don't think I can bear to tell him that he was scaring me, or that he's hurt me.

I hold up the old book and wave it before his eyes. "You were, um…crushing the book, that's all. You didn't hurt me."

Relief floods his face. "Goddamn book," he curses, taking the ancient work and tossing it to the other corner of the room. He gestures with his hands roughly. "I told you I won't do nuttin' 'till you're ready. I wan' you beggin' for it."

I blush a deep shade of red. He's cracked me like a nutshell. "I know. And I really respect you for that. It just makes me think about how shaming it might be to have a whore and to be pushed away every single time. You're the king, and you don't even get to lay with a woman."

He shrugs his shoulders, his long, unbraided black hair spilling like a waterfall down his back. He grabs a brown deerskin breechcloth and ties it around his waist. "I don' care. Each whore in 'dat harem is too easy to get. You make it a challenge. I like challenge. Kings live for challenges in life."

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I can't believe that he just said that. I want to hug him, and I find myself subconsciously leaning forward. And then gravity gives me a huge push and I fall into his arms, gripping his biceps before going down.

He takes it like I've tripped, but I know that it's much, much more than a simple act of clumsiness. His arms seem to comfort me. Abigor lifts me up to my feet and steadies me. "You alright?"

I nod breathlessly. I constantly tell myself that I should oppose his touch, but I don't feel like it's such an issue anymore. "Thank you."

He sits down in his big chair by the unlit fireplace. "Why?" he asks me. "Why are you so afraid of sex and making love? I think you'd know by now 'dat I would never hurt you. B'cause if I wanted to hurt you I sure as hell would have done it already."

I nod my head and I can tell that he's telling me the truth. But the real question was: do I tell him the truth? Or do I lie? "Back in my kingdom, there was a man that I thought I was in love with." I tell him the truth. "I promised myself to him. He said he'd find me no matter what, and that he'd always come for me."

Abigor stares out into the day, his jaw set tight and his eyes hardened. "Tell me more," he demands quietly. "What did he promise you?"

Now I feel a little nervous. "He told me that he would build a house on the countryside and give me lots of little children, we'd be peacefully secluded and…together, in love, never a worry in our minds.."

He does not say anything for a very long time, staring at the stone pattern on the floor. He is thinking. I shift in my place. "I can never give you that," he finally says softly. "Never a house on the countryside, never a peacefully secluded life, and there will always be worries, no matter what."

I look down at the floor. I wish that I'd never said anything. "Abigor, I…"

"Don't," he cuts me off quickly. "I don't care about your lover from 'de other village. You're here, not there, and you're mine and not his. This is a land of no promises, no exceptions. You belong to me, Eliz'bella. End of story."

I understand that, but I hate the way that he's put it. I fold my arms. "You make me sound like a piece of property, Abigor." I scold him.

He turns and growls at me. "Don't you start wit' me," he hisses. He hands his goblet at me. "Go," he says dismissively. "Get me some more wine."

Now I'm getting angry. "Haven't you had enough?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. "No, Eliz'bell…remember the deal? Abide by it, and I beg you, which I should not have to, for some more wine."

I narrow my eyes at him before sighing in surrender and take the goblet out of my room and down to the kitchen. How could such a tender moment turn into an angry one?

0o0o0o0o

It's dark and hot outside where Abigor has decided to hold the shagali. There is a huge bonfire in the middle, roaring like a dragon and popping sparks into the night air. His throne is carried outside by four men and set beside the fireplace. Apparently Abigor had instructed for my mock "throne" to be made as well, and out of strong wood and draped with bearskins.

Abigor had given me a complete barbarian make over. The silks that I wear tonight are blue. Apparently, on the days of the raids they wear red, and on festivals, they wear blue, representing the rain.

My silk wraps around my breasts and leaves my torso exposed and uncovered. The skirt is long but scandalously sheer. He had painted my face, arms and legs, and given me sapphire jewels to wear on my neck, wrists and ankles. Then a crown twisted of a thick vine entwined with a blue-jewelled chain.

Apparently I looked beautiful, since half the men couldn't hush their cat calls and suggestive comments towards me too silent. A lot of them got the evil eye from Abigor.

And that is where I sit now. In my wooden throne next to Abigor's jewel encrusted gold one, watching the fire, listening to barbarians play unfamiliar instruments as my harem friends dance around the fire.

I look around in the dark. I see Michelle sitting on Drinks of Waterfall's lap, kissing his cheeks tenderly as he rubbed his hands on her arms and over the humble swells of her breasts. I grimace.

She is not the same anymore. She enjoys being here with her barbarian master and serving his manly needs every night. I push my long, soft chestnut hair out of my eyes and fix the vine and jewel headband acting as a crown atop my hair.

The harem girls are dressed in different colors of silks, none of them blue. Evalyn is in pink, Cassandra is in violet, Ivona is in yellow, Arlena is in green, Athenodora is in red, Sulpicia is in orange and Didyme is in silver, Katalina is in a honey-golden silk, and the others are in different colours. They all look beautiful, but what they are doing completely shames their title.

A man suddenly grabs Didyme and proceeds to bend her over and fuck her right in front of everyone. Didyme cries out in shock and pain at the man's force. The crowd cheers. I gasp and glance up at Abigor in horror.

He nods. "Normal," he says. "You do not have a festival without at least one fuck or a few fights."

The man finishes with Didyme and throws her back into the circle. The other harem girls kiss her cheeks and dance with her, like she is the center of attention. And Didyme smiles like a giddy young girl that had just kissed her first boy. Abigor leans over to tell me something else. "'De first woman to get fucked at a festival is said to receive good fortune," he tells me. "It is a blessed tradition."

"More like a horrid tradition," I mutter under my breath. He does not hear me say it though, and I am thankful.

The stringed instruments pick up and the drums bang loudly, sending vibrations through each of our bodies at the shagali. The harem girls twirl all at the same time when the drum hits the hardest, and they each go out to the crowds, choosing a man to dance sensually with.

I see Michelle dancing with Drinks of Waterfall. He places his hands on her hips and brings her in close. I'm suddenly jealous. I see Abigor drinking his wine with this sullen look on his face. My decision is unanimous and quick. I stand and make my way in front of him. "Do you always sit here like a bum?" I ask him jokingly.

He's surprised and looks around to see if anyone's listening. "Sit down," he growls at me. "Don't make a fool of yourself in front of the men."

I sigh and grab his hand. The music is catchy and all I want to do is try and dance with him. "Please?" I ask him. "All I want to do is dance with you, and for you to dance with me."

He waves his hand at me. "I'm the king,Eliz'bella."

I put my hands on my hips defiantly. "Kings can dance, too." Suddenly, I begin to sway in time with the music, my hips lifting and dropping with each drum beat. "Can't they? Or are kings too cowardly to show off their crazy dancing skills?" People watch with curiosity. Some of the whores back at my home put on a show for the men in bars, moving their hips sensually just like I'm doing right now.

Abigor's face is red, but his eyes are lustful. He wants me, and he wants to dance with me. That's what I want—that reaction from him is spot on. He's reluctant, so I dance even more sensually. He rubs his stubbly chin with his big hand and chuckles.

"Come on, O' Mighty King of mine. Dance with your fine lady on this humble night, and look yonder into the twilight to see your youth once more." I say in a dreamy sort of voice, twirling around in the air. He's smiling, but he's still reluctant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his brother staring at me with an evil look on his face. I become uncomfortable, but I'm so close to getting him off of his seat that I don't stop dancing. I try to focus on luring him out, but Iron Coyote's devilish eyes burn into my skin, and I can suddenly feel how much he wants me, and how much he's willing to take me.

Abigor notices the distress on my face and glances to the left, where his brother stands, admiring my body from afar. He shoots up from where he sits and scowls at his brother, who doesn't notice him until he grabs me by the arms and whisks me off into the crowds.

People are quickly noticing Abigor's movement from the throne to me, and I can tell they're