Only the Stars Can Know

Seven

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She sighed and turned her face into the softness of the red and gold tasseled pillow that rested beneath her head trying to suppress the moan that threatened to work its way from her throat. Despite her inner battle, the Prince seemed unaware of the effect that his hands were having on her tired and sore muscles.

“Just tell me if I’m pressing to hard,” he said as his fingers kneaded out a particular knotted spot on her calf.

She shook her head, her nose scratching against the soft materiel, “No,” she mumbled sleepily, “You are just perfect.”

He chuckled and slowly worked his way to the backs of her thighs, his weight slightly shifting on the bed, “As you wish, Princess.”

She turned her head to the side and smiled at him from behind her bare shoulder, “I used to hate it when others called me that. I guess I always thought that they were mocking me.”

He returned her smile and straddled her backside, being extra careful to keep most of his weight on his legs as his sword callused hands ran across her lower back, “I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “But,” she stated, “It’s different when you speak it.”

“How so?” he asked, his touch leaving her body to gather more of the sandalwood scented oil and warming it between his palms before returning to his task.

“Because you say it like it’s my name,” she sighed again, letting one of her arms fall carelessly over the side of the bed.

He frowned, “It is,” he leaned down and pressed his hands into her back, the soft popping could clearly be heard within the stillness of the candlelit chamber.

“Prince?” she absent mindedly picked on a lose thread from the carpet.

“Yes, Princess,” he whispered, the feel of his breath upon her cheek slightly startled her.

“Who are you?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“I am the Prince of Persia,” he said and she could hear the smile on his lips.

She huffed and sat up, grabbing the sheet and holding it in front of her bareness. The quick movement caught him off guard and he tumbled back, sitting to face her with his legs tangled in the mass of blankets. “That’s not what I meant,” she tired to give him her best glare but the effect of it was lost when she did finally look at him completely. He was shirtless, his scars standing out against the darkness of his skin. His knees were spread and bent, his thick black hair falling into his face and hiding half of it. The flicker of the candles sent shadows dancing across his body. To her he seemed utterly unearthly and absolutely gorgeous. She felt her face flush with heat and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she thought there was no way that he couldn’t hear it, useless of course he was deaf or nearly there.

She saw him looking at her and his cocky smile dropped suddenly for reasons she didn’t understand. His eyes darkened until they almost seemed to turn black under the dim lighting, “Jasmine,” he whispered, his voice was lower than she remembered it being and touched her skin more intimately than his hands had ever. The air in the room seemed to press around her and she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to know what was happening between the two of them. It was scaring her entirely too much.

“When I get all of my strength back,” she swallowed and she barely recognized her own voice, “will you teach me the way of the sword?”

Her question startled him and he quickly sat straighter, pulling his legs under him, “You want me to teach to you how to kill?”

She dropped her eyes from his soul seeking gaze and nodded. Then she looked back at him, her dark eyes lined with the hardest of steal and determination, “I will not let what happened to me again. I will no longer depend on the help of others. I will protect myself.”

He returned her steady gaze with one of his own, searching for the answer within her. After what seemed like an entirety he finally nodded, “As you wish, Princess.”

She nodded, sticking her chin slightly in the air, “Good,” she stated and turned her back on him letting the sheet pool off of her back before laying on her stomach once more and glared at him over her shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well?” she huffed.

His jaw dropped open for a spilt second before he laughed, “There are many ways to interpret that, my dear Princess.”

Her eyes widened in shock and she resisted the urge to throw her pillow at him, “Finish rubbing my back.”

His laughter died down and he once more crawled so that he was gently sitting on her, “As you wish, Princess.”

It seemed to be the answer for the night and she couldn’t bring herself to find anything wrong with that.

S%S

Hard yet gentle hands ran themselves along the sides of her body, one stopping to rest on her hip briefly before slipping around and firming cupping her backside. She felt herself gasp at the sudden sensations that raced across her skin so much that she barely could think. She arched into the caress, bringing her flesh closer to his and draping one leg over his, her knee bending until it fit perfectly with his hip.

She felt him move with her, twisting until he was half lying on top of her. She withered as her oh so hot skin fully touched his own, her breath rushing out of her lungs until it was painful to even breathe.

The body next to her, the sword callused hands that touched upon her nakedness, was not the ones that she remember from Aladdin. As a matter a fact, the caresses were soft yet sure, so unlike his. So different from his shy and uncertain feather pats and strokes. He had touched her like she was the finest spun glass and would brake at any moment.

The touches upon her were sometimes light and yet sometimes not, as if he knew what she had liked and where to put the right amount of pressure.

His lips and tongue ran down the column of her throat, pausing at her pulse point to add gentle teeth to the pressure. Her hand reached up and fisted in his dark thick hair, the length of it prefect to run her fingers through and hold on to. She used that as an anchor when his mouth left her neck and traveled lower stopping only when he reached her breast, licking the space between them. “You’re so beautiful,” his voice was lower than she ever imagined it to be. It was the prefect bedroom voice.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she barely whispered somehow finding her voice amongst the wonderful things that she was feeling.

He chuckled and moved his head to the side, his fingers trailing patterns down to her lower abdomen. His tongue flicked out and slightly touched the tip of her right breast. She gasped as stars danced across her vision and when his pulled her nipple between his soft lips to worry it with teeth and tongue she truly forgot to breath.

She couldn’t possibly take much more of his slow sweet torture, but he always found some pride into proving her wrong. His hand, the one that she had forgot about due to the attention his was giving her chest, moved lowered and oh so gently stroked her between her legs.

She cried out at the contact and cursed the gods when he applied more pressure, his fingers playing her like she was the finest of tuned instruments. He pulled his mouth from her and she whimpered from the loss, “More,” she gasped.

He groaned at her words and moved to settle on top of her, keeping most of his weight on his one arm that wasn’t occupied at the moment. She arched up to meet him, her legs coming around his waist and pulling him closer to her. She opened her eyes and looked to him; his blue eyes seemed to glow with in the confinements of the darkened tent. She nodded and kept her gaze, wanting and needing to see him lose control of himself, even if it was just this once.

He leaned down and claimed her lips in a searing kiss before whispering softly in her ear, “Let me know if I start hurting you.”

She tried to answer her but her voice was cut off in a hiss and he entered her, his hips moving in short strokes, going just a tad deeper with each thrust of his body. She could feel sweat dripping off her forehead and when he was fully inside of her she noticed that they both were gasping for breath. The trembling of his arms as he held himself up was the only indication that he was losing the hold he had on his control.

The thought made her body flush with an inferno of heat and her heart swell with pride. She shifted and lifted her hips to grind against his, hoping he’d get the hint and start moving. She heard him give a slight chuckle the act almost lost with a hitch of his breath as he picked up the pace. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as he ruthlessly hit her sweet spot over and over again. The intensity of his body covering hers, the feeling of him between her spread legs was purely heaven and she could think of no greater place than she’d rather be. The pleasure in her was building in monumental quantities. “Prince,” she moaned, her voice completely unrecognizable even to her own ears. She lifted her hips to meet his thrust for thrust and before she knew it she was practically screaming from the sensations that he was causing her. Close, she was oh so close.

“Princess!” his voice sounded in her ears, not at all fitting the position that they were in.

“Faster,” she gasped, “Please.”

“Jasmine!” his hands came up and shook her rather rudely.

She opened her eyes blearily at him and smiled, “I’m fine,” she whispered and brought her arms around his neck trying to bring his face closer to hers so she could kiss those delicious lips. She blinked as her hands fisted in the cloth of his shirt.

Shirt?

They had both been naked just a second ago so how come now he was wearing a shirt?

Unless...

By Allah. She quickly released him and rolled her side, facing away from him to hide her shame. It was just a dream. A stupid good for nothing dream and her body was still pulsing from the aftershocks of it.

She felt him move behind her and settle on the bed his arms coming around her and pulling her close to him so that he was spooned behind her. They had lain this way many times but this was the first time that she had the urge to open her legs and grab one of his hands, forcing the sword callused fingers to play in between them. She groaned at the thought and buried her face with the confinements of her pillow.

“Princess?” he voice was filled with concern and his breath brushed across the back of her neck. At that moment she wanted more than anything to arch closer to his heat and make him do the things he was doing to her in her dream.

“I’m fine,” she managed to chock out, “Just a dream.”

TBC...