Seduced By The Bad Boy Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

I
woke
up from a dreamless sleep with a giant ear-to-ear grin on my face. I was on my side, facing the wall. A little tingle of pleasure even coursed up my spine every single time I thought about last night - about Aziz. I couldn't get over thinking about Aziz' hands on my body, how his face and half day stubble felt on my skin, how his body enveloped mine, protecting me. I touched myself to pretend it was him and smiled at the memories coming back to me.

I had always wanted to hold out for the right guy - and I was glad I did. Whatever else in the world, I would always know that the first guy I had given myself to was special.

Of course he was, Natalie. He was a Sheikh.

Somehow that really didn't bother me anymore. It almost felt like a Cinderella story. I just knew him from my mother. And give me a break. This was Sheikh Pleasure we were talking about here - based on all his past exploits, this one was actually relatively tame. I mean, at the end of the day, we were just one woman and one man – it happened all the time. I had nothing to hide.

Wait a second. Girl, you better check yourself, before you wreck yourself on this man.

I pulled the blankets closer to me and thought to myself. So I had slept with Aziz? He had literally taken me to paradise several times. But what came next? Was I supposed to try and fix him? Was I going to be another one of those girls that he left behind on the curb after he was done with? What had he told Charlie Rose that he called them? "One and done"? I think that's what he had said he called his ladies - good for one night and then escorted to wherever they lived with a pair of diamond earrings.

But somehow, this felt different. I knew I was safe with Aziz. He had protected me when no one else had known what to do. He had made me his. I wasn't going to waste time regretting what I had done.

I turned around to face him to find an empty bed.

Has he already kicked you to the curb before you even woke up?

No, the guy was a freak of nature. He was off probably riding that motorcycle of his that he had made Hamid bring him. Probably wondering what he was doing and if it was the right thing to do. What had he said before he had taken me? He had given me ten seconds to get away because he was still in control of himself.

I smiled to myself. It was nice to know that I had the power to make someone lose complete control over themselves. Especially when that loss of control was so deliciously pleasurable. I swear, I had had orgasms before, but what I had with Aziz was like nothing else I could even begin to dream of. Had he learned all of that on his own?

I began to wish that Aziz were here next to me. So I could rub my ass on that giant monster cock of his, feeling it between my ass cheeks. I'd want to hold on to that beautifully sculpted body, running my fingers over those muscles. I'd want to get on top of him and ride him again, replaying last night.

God last night was so dirty. I don't think I’ll ever forget it.

I've heard people talk about in movies about having life altering sex. This had to be it. I couldn’t imagine any other situation where sex could be as life-altering as this was. If there were women out there who are not having this type of sex, they were seriously missing out. I mean, I knew I was, but it was absolutely worth the wait for it to be with Aziz.

No wonder there are like 7 billion people on this planet. If everyone fucked like Aziz does, there'd be 100 billion of us running around.

But Aziz wasn't coming back anytime soon. Who knows, maybe he was out drinking. I didn't know how I felt about that. Obviously, we were going to have to have a little talk. I didn't know where this was going, but it was clear to me that Sheikh Player was in my life for a little while at least and somehow I no longer minded. But that being said, I needed to make sure we had each other's expectations down properly. I don't think it was cool with me anymore if he ever brought home another girl.

I trembled at the thought of him with another woman and decided to banish these dark thoughts by starting my day. It was a little early, but I didn't mind. I didn't feel tired at all. I felt rested, rejuvenated, and ready to take life by the horns and never let go. I knew I would probably get some good painting done today.

I padded over to the shower and let it run for a bit, letting the steam waft in the air and looking at myself. I had looked at myself naked in the mirror before, but everything about my body that I saw now I pictured in relation to Aziz. My lips that he had taken with such tenderness yet strength. How he had licked and sucked my breasts and my nipples. How he had run his hands down my shoulders and back. How he had felt on my stomach when he was on top of me. How he had held on to my ass when I rode him. How it felt to have my legs wrapped around him. My body was his, I could tell. I just didn't want to admit it yet to anyone, including myself.

Sighing to myself, I got in the shower and began to get ready for the day. I padded back to my bedroom and picked out something light and airy to wear for the day - something that matched my mood. I settled on a blue sundress.

A loud noise startled me and I realized that the pool construction crew was already here, beginning their work. Well, I had forgotten about them. It was going to be pretty hard to paint outside with bulldozers and tractors moving to and fro with and all that construction noise.

That gave me the perfect opportunity to do something that had been in the back of my mind since I had gotten up this morning: go snooping.

* * *

A
ziz didn't pack much
, that's for sure. And what he had Hamid bring in for him, he had arranged neatly in the drawers and closets provided. I was suitably impressed - I had always pictured that he would be somewhat of a slob, but he had everything folded away in military precision.

I smiled to myself and bounded downstairs where I got a vase and put some water and some flowers from the front yard. I brought it up to place on his dresser. That added some color to the room. Say what you say about Aziz and his organization, he wasn't much for adding flourishes to his living space.

So where to start?
I thought to myself. I went through some drawers and found really just socks and underwear. I didn't need to see the boxer briefs to know that Sheikh Hung deserved that nickname that the media had given him. Just looking at his underwear made me think back to his cock and I went to his closet and brought one of his hanging shirts to my face, smelling his scent.

I meandered through a few more drawers. I knew snooping was probably not what was written as acceptable activities in Ladies Home Journal, but then again, neither was fucking a man like Aziz. I didn't care. Aziz wasn't here, and I missed him. Plus, I wanted to know more about the man that I had seen and find out why I had thought he was someone else for so long. It was important to me - I had given myself to him. I deserved to know the real Aziz al Salam Mussayef.

I went through a few more drawers of shirts and shoes, belts, and cufflinks. I came upon a drawer that held a box, with the royal crest on it. Carefully I opened it. Three medals. I looked at them intently. The Medal of Valor, given to the kingdoms soldiers who return from a tour of duty. The Medal of Distinction, given to any soldier who commits himself on the battlefield for his comrades. And finally, the Sultan's Medal - given by the Sultan to any soldier who places his life on the line to advance the safety of his compatriots as well as the cause. You had to be nominated and voted on by your peers to receive this award and only one man was given this award each year. I knew all this from my Middle Eastern History courses I had taken specifically on Qumar after Mother got her job and moved. This was massively impressive, but a little bit confusing. I had always thought as royalty, Aziz had been on the administrative side of things, arriving in Afghanistan only after it had been secured and planning the troop deployments. The way the tabloids had put it, he had most likely gotten drummed out of the service because he was drinking too much of the general's scotch.

I closed the lid and put it down, finding a binder next to it. Curious, I opened it, to see it full of newspaper clippings that had been put into transparent plastic sheaths. I turned through them, curious to see why Aziz had kept them. Most of them were about the War in Afghanistan, where Qumari forces had committed a sizable deployment along with other Allied nations. I stopped at one article, which had a side profile of Aziz. The face was unmistakable, despite being in black and white. Aziz had a little bit more of a beard at that point, not having shaved or showered for a few days perhaps. He was wearing Army fatigues and held an M5 in his hands, looking and talking off-camera. It was obvious it was a candid shot. There wasn't any caption under the picture. Either the newspaper hadn't printed Aziz' name, which was highly unlikely, or they hadn't expected to see Aziz in the picture and had missed him entirely. It didn't make sense to me that someone whose main goal was administrative paperwork would be holding an M5 and looking like they had just come off the battlefield.

The headline on the article simply read, "Qumari Forces Serve With Distinction Against Jihadists in Afghanistan."

Most likely the photographer had taken a picture that exemplified the forces of Qumar but had never bothered to find out whose picture they were taking. I read the article.

"Royal forces today began a massive strike against Taliban strongholds in Kandahar as the main wing of the Allied forces closed in towards the Afghan city. Taliban forces have increasingly adopted insurgent like tactics, increasing the need for Allied special units to be sent in advance of the main force to clear deadly traps and bottlenecks in an effort to prevent major casualties..."

I didn't understand at all. This article was written before the country was pacified. How and where did Aziz fit into it. That was his picture for sure. I'd recognize Sheikh Passion's strong jawline and piercing eyes anytime. Hell, I'd never forget them. According to everything I had ever read about, he shouldn't be there. He shouldn't be on the front lines, and certainly not in layers of forces sent before the main unit was sent.

"Had a good read, love?" a voice called out from the doorway.

Startled, I dropped the binder and turned to see Aziz standing there, in his jeans and leather jacket. A tingle went through my loins as I looked at him, even as I knew I'd been caught red-handed snooping.

"I see we're curious in the mornings, aren't we?" he asked giving me his trademark smirk.

Was it wrong that all I wanted to do was jump his bones at that point?

A
fter my phone called home
, I realized there was only one thing left to do. I'd faced the terrorists and I'd seen the face of evil, but I had to do something that almost made me wish I were back in the mountains of Kandahar all over again. I had to go back home and tell Natalie that I was leaving.

I was a pussy; I knew it in the deepest corners of my heart. A real man would clean up his act and stand and fight for what he believed in. But a real man would never have let men under him die. A real man wouldn't have gotten involved with a woman who'd be torn to pieces by the news media. A real man would have controlled his impulses and last night been able to withstand the greatest desires of his heart so that he could protect what he loved.

That's right, I told myself as I pulled my bike onto the path. I was fucking in love. I was where my dad had wanted me all this time. I had my head wrapped around a woman and I didn't want to let her go. But I had to.

The newsies, if they could see me now, would be all over themselves popping boners left and right. They'd be handing out their annual Aziz bonuses early, knowing the feeding frenzy that they were about to partake in. I could see it now: Sheikh Player Catches His A Commoner. Sheikh Sex Goes Slumming. Sheikh Hung Gets Another Notch.

Dad, bless his soul, would age another day older, wondering what was going to happen to his kingdom when he passed on. I couldn't do that to the old man. I couldn't do that to Natalie. I needed to stand tall. I needed to be strong.

I walked in the door and put my helmet on the hall tree. It was quiet inside, as opposed to the commotion going on in the backyard as they literally dug it up to put in the deluxe pool that I had ordered. I had told Hamid to meet me in two hours and I thought it best that I stay out of Natalie's way and collect all my things.

A part of me felt like a massive douche for leaving. Even more so for treating her like one of my "One and Done" girls. But there was a big difference between them and Natalie. They usually threw themselves at me in the club. Noble ladies, sluttier than the dirtiest whore on the street. They wanted my cock, and they would do anything to get it. So I would take them for a ride of their lives. And when I was done, I would discard.

With Natalie, I knew I'd be leaving a piece of me forever. I got to my room and smelled her fragrance before I even saw her. The coconut shampoo that she used. The fragrance that she wore. Indelibly marked into my memory. My heart began to palpitate on its own as my senses told me that Natalie was near.

I found her sitting on my bed, looking through my war correspondence. I didn't know if she'd read the war journal or looked at the medals yet. Fuck, maybe I wouldn't have to tell her anything. Maybe she'd already seen what kind of a monster I was and I could just collect my stuff and get the fuck out of this house.

"Had a good read, love?" I asked her from the doorway, my heart literally thumping in my chest - afraid that I'd been found out for what I was. I tried my best to smirk but all that came out was a grimace.

Natalie literally jumped from where she was sitting. Her eyes went wide when she saw me.

Fucking hell, she probably knew. Fuck it. She would have had to find out sooner or later.

"I see we're curious in the mornings, aren't we?" I said weakly.

"Aziz!" she gasped. "I was...I was just..."

I didn't let her finish but walked over. "What's done is done, love. No sense crying over the milk that's already spilled."

"No, Aziz, I didn't know where you were so I brought in some flowers and I just..."

"You happened to go through the war correspondence?" I asked her, partially angry that she had stolen from me. That's right. I felt robbed. Robbed of my right to tell her about my own dishonor. About my own ignominy. She had taken that from me.

"Well, it's not a bother, love, really," I said going to my closet. "I'll be out of your hair in no time. You'll be back to normal around here. Get some painting done."

"What?" she asked, in shock. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Qumar," I said, looking at her but unable to meet her eyes. "Back to the Court."

"What about the Sultan? He just let you go back?"

"No, love," I said. Fuck, this part was going to hurt. "I've seen the light. He's letting me back and planning out who I'm going to marry."

If a ton of bricks could have hit that poor girl, they would have from the way she stumbled on her feet and fell back to sitting on the bed. "You're getting married?" she croaked.

"Afraid so," I said taking my duffel bag out and throwing the contents from the drawers and closet into it. "No helping it. Duty is duty."

The shock was replaced by anger in her eyes. I saw her get up. "But Aziz," she said, taking a step closer. I could see she was trembling. "What about us?"

I couldn't look her in the eyes. Damn it all to fucking hell. I couldn't do this. I loved this woman more than anything in my godforsaken life and I couldn't carry on like this.

"Aziz," she said, her voice sterner. I busied myself putting my shirts in the duffel bag. What the fuck was I doing? Hamid could come and do this for me. But it kept me from having to look at the creature in front of me that I adored. That I loved. "Look at me," she stated.

I stopped. Slowly I raised my head and looked over at her. Tears were brimming in her eyes. "Natalie, I can't," I said. "I can't stay here. You have no idea who and what I am. You have no idea what would happen. The massive shit storm that we would let loose."

"Aziz, last night..." she began.

"Last night was a mistake, love," I said cutting her off from saying anything more. I was already wavering and given half a word more I would have dropped everything and taken her in my arms. "This is the only way."

"What is so terrible about us being together?"

That was it. I couldn't fucking do it.

"There is nothing terrible about you, Natalie," I said sharply, looking at her. "Don't you ever say that. But look at me. Have you read a newspaper lately? Have you watched CNN?"

She remained silent. "And the worst part is, I would be okay if that were all. If all you had to put up with was Sheikh Player and Sheikh Hung and whatever the fuck they're calling me this week. That's all stuff you know. But it's what you don't know that'll destroy everything. But that won’t be it. You're not used to this life. You don’t know what you’ll face with the press, Natalie. Once the sharks in the media find out about us they'll tar you with everything I've done. Then, they'll drag your name through the mud. And once you know who I really am, you'll hate me. But by then, you'll have a better reputation being a porn star in Mexico than you will with me."

It wasn't sitting well with Natalie. "So that's what you think of me, huh?" she asked, angry, putting her hands on her hips. I moved over to get my War medals, journal and correspondence. "You think I'm some fragile little kitten you have to protect?"

"It's not that, love..."

This time she didn't let me finish. "And don't you fucking dare 'love' me. You think I don't know what you're doing? You think I never heard of your whole 'One and Done' little strategy?"

Daggers went through my heart as she continued, tears streaming down her face. "Where's my pair of diamond earrings, you fucking asshole? You think you're just getting to walk away and leave?"

I put everything in my duffel bag. I didn't look around to see if I had forgotten anything. I wasn't able to see straight, or think straight.

"Did the Sultan even banish you at all, Aziz?" she asked as I made for the bedroom door. "Or did you get it into your sick fucking head to come over and bang me? Is there a list of people who work for the Sultan and have kids that you go through? Regular sluts getting too boring for you?"

I couldn't take this and I couldn't see Natalie like this. I had all my shit packed and Hamid could come up and take it later. I had to get out before I broke down and took Natalie in my arms. Before I kissed away her tears and told her not to cry. Before I told her I loved her. I couldn't stand to see her in pain. I began to make my way down the stairs.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it, you sick fuck?" she yelled, coming down the stairs as I reached the bottom. Tears were flowing freely now and only adrenaline was keeping her going. "I gave myself to you, Aziz. I trusted you. And you turned out to be exactly who they say you are!"

I knew from hearing her voice that she had sat down on the stairs, unable to go a step further. I couldn't turn back. I couldn't look at her. I knew if I did I would never leave. That I'd tell my father to fuck off with the crown, with the kingdom. I had never wanted either, but I knew my duty. I knew my people who I had to protect. And Natalie was one of them.

I kept walking and jumped onto my bike, revving it up. I peeled out of the cul-de-sac and got away as fast as I could. I fucking needed a drink. Bad.

The problem was it was only fucking 11 am. No self-respecting bar would be open just yet.

Sighing to myself, I rode the bike into one of those casual dining places that Americans love near the center of the city. One of those that had a restaurant and a bar for when those accountants like to get a little crazy and half a glass of wine before dinner.

I walked to the bar and immediately pointed to a bottle of whiskey. The kid at the counter had his eyes as big as fucking saucers but he obliged. I drank the shot of whiskey down in one gulp and ordered another. I killed that one too. Only three more drinks later did I feel that I was clear and lucid enough to slow down a little bit.

"Seems like you've had a rough morning there," a voice said next to me. I turned around. Woman. I hadn't noticed any other people at the bar when I sat down, but then again I wasn't thinking straight. She was blonde. Maybe thirty, maybe less. Big tits - not as nice as Natalie. God damn, I needed to stop comparing every woman to her. No one would ever match up.

"What's a guy like you doing in a bar like this in the morning?" she asked, getting up and coming over. She was wearing a black short skirt and a tube top. I could tell she hadn't gone home from partying the night before, her day old make-up giving it all away.

"Getting away from life," I answered gruffly, taking another shot and signaling for more.

"Well, that makes two of us," she purred coming closer to me. "My name's Nerissa. Who are you?"

I took another drink and looked at her. She was running her eyes up and down my body. So this was what my life was going to be cursed to? "Someone I don't want to be," I said quietly to her and pounded another whiskey.