Chapter 14: Horemheb and his craving.

Horemheb stirred sharply as consciousness returned. Rising swiftly, he stepped out of his chamber and cast a quick glance down the silent hallway.
Isis, his secret mistress, was nowhere to be seen. Yet despite her absence, the restless flame within him burned bright and unyielding, a vivid and urgent fire of desire that refused to fade.

“Find me a concubine,” he commanded one of the guards sharply.
“Yes, your majesty. What kind?” The guard’s deep voice was steady, even in the late hour.
“Any.”
“Right away, your majesty.”

Horemheb returned to his chamber and sank onto the bed, his mind consumed by thoughts of Isis, her soft, full lips still tingling on his own, the feel of her pert breasts against his chest, the richness of her brown skin glowing warmly in his memory. He imagined adorning her naked body with a string of white pearls, the cool contrast against her warmth making his cock throb harder. The sensation of her mouth on his bottom lip still sent sparks through him. She had surprised him with her boldness. Women in Egypt were not shy about desire, but Isis was his younger sister, only, and he, the Crown Prince, now Prince Regent. She never showed him the deference expected of her, and he loved her all the more for it.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking his reverie. That was fast.

“Enter,” he said.

A black concubine entered is chamber, her dark skin gleaming like polished ebony beneath the shifting torchlight.

A black concubine entered his chamber.
She was striking, tall, with long limbs and eyes as deep and endless as night itself. Her linen dress clung to her curves, thin enough to reveal the swell of her breasts and the soft roundness of her hips.

“Good,” he said. “Now, undress and dance for me.”

She slipped the straps from her shoulders, the silken dress sliding down to her ankles.

Her skin was the color of dark honey, rich and lustrous, catching the lamplight like polished obsidian. Her breasts were full and high, tipped with dark nipples that seemed to soften as the cool air touched them. Her belly was smooth and firm, with the gentle curve of womanly strength, leading down to narrow hips and powerful thighs that promised grace and vitality.

The triangle of curls between her legs was trimmed and neat, framing the soft folds hidden beneath, glistening slightly as if she had already begun to respond to my brother’s gaze. Her arms were long and elegant, her shoulders straight and proud despite her station, and her back was smooth, tapering beautifully to a waist that begged to be held.

Her velvet black bushy triangle pointed down to her thick, framing the soft folds hidden beneath, glistening slightly as if she had already begun to respond to Horemheb’s gaze. Her protruding pussy lips glistened with moisture.

She wore heavy brass bangles that jingled softly as she began to move. Her dance was slow, sinuous, arms curling and twisting like serpents, hips swaying with hypnotic grace, breasts gently swinging.

Her arms were long and elegant, her shoulders straight and proud despite her station, and her back was smooth, tapering beautifully to a waist that begged to be held.

Naked and unashamed, her dark eyes calm and deep as the river at dusk. There was a power in her nakedness, a quiet command, as if she refused to be merely an object for his pleasure.

His pale hands reached for her, the skin of his fingers almost milk-white against the deep bronze of hers. The contrast was striking, almost shocking, his long, slender fingers drifting across the warm darkness of her shoulders, making her rich skin seem to glow even more brightly.