Free The Captive Flesh by Cleo Cordell

Waiting.
    There was a sense of contained excitement all around her. The word had passed around that Kasim would be visiting the harem that evening. He had apparently not been too keen to do so of late.
    â€˜It is the presence of you and Claudine that draws him here. He is like a moth to your flame,’ said Leyla. ‘The other women are glad you are here, though you may become rivals. They think that if Kasim visits, he might notice one of them and bestow his favours on her.’
    Marietta did not reply, only nodding her head a little stiffly, then felt churlish when Leyla smiled hesitantly. It was not Leyla she was angry with. It was Kasim, and herself. Leyla looked beautiful in dark-green velvet. A lighter green veil covered her long black hair, which hung loosely in thick shining waves to her hips. Herblack eyes sought Marietta’s face often, their expression pleading for forgiveness. Marietta avoided Leyla’s gaze. Though gradually she felt herself soften, she kept her chin up, her head erect, and gave no sign that she intended to speak to Leyla ever again.
    Leyla pressed her hands together in her lap.
    Her lovely face was anguished. Now and then she glanced across the room at Marietta, who was sitting so stiffly upright, a look of fury on her face. The scorn in the wide blue eyes hurt her. It saddened Leyla that Marietta thought her guilty of manipulating her. True, she knew that Kasim had lured the young women to the harem. No one but a slave, purchased from a trader, came willingly to a life of confinement – and even some slaves were not willing. She shuddered remembering …
    One day she would tell Marietta her story, if Marietta ever forgave her.
    She had been drawn to Marietta for her own reasons. At first she had felt pity for the lovely young woman. She knew that it would be a shock when she discovered that she would never leave this place. The other woman, Claudine, would not find it so difficult. But Marietta would find the path to obedience long and painful.
    Leyla saw an echo of a younger, more innocent, self in Marietta. That was why she thought to befriend her, show her how things were done, ease the way forward for her. So that she would accept her new life with the least amount of mental anguish. That was all she
meant
to do.
    But when Marietta disrobed, Leyla had been torn by a raging desire to explore her flawless body, so unique with its pale colouring. She wanted to arouse thepassions in that cool smooth flesh. But it had all gone wrong. Marietta thought she was Kasim’s creature – and in a way it was true – but that was not why she had pleasured Marietta.
    The truth was that she was already half in love with the French woman.
    Leyla clenched her fingers and pressed her lips together, watching Marietta from the tail of her eye. Unable to stop looking at her – so breathtaking even in the ugly and constricting French gown that she still insisted on wearing.
    Claudine rested on a pile of cushions, nibbling sweetmeats. She sucked her sticky fingers, paying great attention to cleaning them one by one.
    Marietta felt mildly exasperated. She had expected her friend to be furious with Kasim, to be waiting to challenge him, as she was. But Claudine looked composed and relaxed, perfectly at ease.
    It was late when Kasim arrived. Many of the women had grown bored. They were slumped in untidy postures, their clothes crumpled and disarrayed. At Kasim’s appearance there was a flurry of activity.
    He strode across the tiled courtyard, looking magnificent in robes of mulberry velvet. In one hand he held a fine gold chain and in the other a pliable leather switch. In his wake, attached to the chain by a neck ring, trotted a naked woman. Her face was flushed and tear-streaked. Lash marks were visible on the skin of her belly and thighs.
    The harem women ran to meet Kasim, fluttering their hands and smiling, falling over each other to speak words of welcome. They ignored the