Sheikh's Revenge (8 page)

Besides, this was better.

Like this, she was able to press her body against his back, to feel the heat and heft of him, and revel in his exotic scent. “I’m game for anything, my sheikh.”

Except telling you the full truth, about everything that we’ve actually done together. I just can never tell you that I’m your kitten
.

She pushed those thoughts away—the worry that he’d somehow find out too much about her and run away, or that his pretty words and promises would mean nothing once they started work again on Tuesday. Right now, she had him, and she could cling tightly to the muscles of his body as they both rode off into the glimmering sunset.

It was enough for now.

It would have to be.

***

Her heart was still pounding when they got back to their bedroom. The bed was a four-poster monstrosity with a comforter of woven silk and golden thread. The camel ride hadn’t been fast or difficult. It hadn’t even been dangerous. There was no racing into the sunset, just a gentle ride where, okay, she’d been convinced she’d still fall off even if they were going a grand total of five miles an hour. Overall, she was glad that he’d come up with the idea. There was a lot to be said for being so near to him, to having a valid reason to cling to his body. If she’d sat in front, having his hardness so near to the cleft of her rear, bumping up against her with every step, then Addison knew she’d have been unable to have rational thoughts. Since she had been positioned behind him, riding with him hadn’t left her hot and bothered, desperate to feel
all
of him deeply inside of her.

Now, even though they were back and their contact had been reduced to his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they stood inside the room, her heart was working overtime to pound out of her chest. She needed him, and Addison needed him to know that.

“Are you alright, Addy?” he asked, frowning at her. “Was the ride alright?”

“It was probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever done. Far away from my home, more or less alone with my sheikh and watching the sunset, seeing that explosion of reds and roses across the sky? It was all amazing.”

“Then why do you look so bothered? Your brow’s furrowed so hard that I almost expect that you’re doing quantum physics equations in your head.”

“I’m not bothered,” she said. “Well, not in that way.”

Great, Addy
,
like that doesn’t sound too desperate.

“Then in what way are you, ahem, bothered?” he asked.

She turned and traced one finger over the loose fabric of his robes. “I think you know exactly how I’m bothered, and what you can do to calm me. Two nights ago, I was a bit fuzzy, couldn’t enjoy every single moment as thoroughly as I wanted to.”

“You brought me to my knees and beyond, Addy, there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. It was fantastic.”

“Exactly,” she said, tracing one nail over his cheek. “And I want to feel that too. I
need
to feel that. Can you make love to me, Zahir? Fully?”

“Is this what you want? When you woke up at the palace…”

“I’m scared,” she said. That was a bit of a fib. She was far more than scared. She was terrified. If anything happened between them, if it all went badly, then she was back couch surfing in Boston, but she had to take this chance. “I know it’s hard to trust anyone, and I’ve had some shitty luck of late, but this is something good, something so pure between us. Please, my sheikh, make love to me.”

He frowned, and for a minute she half-feared, half-hoped that he’d recognize her as his kitten. But soon, Zahir was shaking that momentary confusion from his face and rushing to the side table by the bed. He pulled out the foil packet and tossed it to the mattress. Before her, he grinned and started to strip, pulling off his thin linen shirt slowly until she finally saw the great expanse of his rippling abs and the tawny, olive complexion of his skin. She’d marveled at him in the dark of the limo, but that crappy lighting hadn’t done him any justice. Or, at least, not enough. He was a marvel to behold. Watching him unzip his trousers was the ultimate tease and she licked her lips, feeling that familiar flame and need flicker through her belly again.

Zahir shoved his pants down and, again, had no underwear underneath. Perhaps her sheikh had an exhibitionist streak in him. No, scratch that. After all they’d done on the roof of Club Rouge, she knew for a fact that he had such a showy side to him. But with a body like that, Zahir should have.

Her eyes widened at the full sight of his erection, sprung free and readied for her. He grinned back at her, undid the foil packet, and slid the condom over his member with practiced grace. Then he patted the mattress.

“I don’t know if this is completely fair. If I put on a bit of a show for you, Addy, then I should get something back before we get to bed.”

She shook her head, and then pulled her red hair out of the ponytail that had kept it controlled on the camel ride. Her mane of unruly curls spilled out over her shoulders, and she hated it, but the way Zahir’s pupils seemed to dilate a bit at the sight, Addison had a feeling that her sheikh loved her hair.

Well, at least it’s good for something…

“I want to make love up against the wall.”

“You what?” he queried, amusement thick in his voice.

“You heard me,” she said, slipping her T-shirt over her head and then unbuckling her bra. There was a Cheshire cat grin on her face; she could feel it spreading there, but she couldn’t stop it. Addison didn’t even want to. Zahir made her feel so much more womanly, like she was ready to explore every aspect of herself. Right now, what she wanted most was to let that wild side of her fully out. He said he’d always wanted to touch the wilderness. Well, let him find that between both of them.

Reaching down, she cupped her breasts, ran her hands over them and then made them creep lower. Agile fingers, emboldened by her lust, unbuttoned her jeans and she slid those off as well. Now she stood before her lover in nothing but her panties. Her creeping, curious fingers explored lower, digging under the waistband of her panties. Then, with a swift tug, she had yanked them down over her thighs and calves. When the rested on the ground around her ankles, Addison stepped directly out of them.

Now, naked as the day she’d been born, Addison stood before him with one hip jutted out, as if even her body was doing everything it could to convey the serious nature of her dare.

“Please, Zahir, come and get me.”

It was like provoking a bull by waving a red flag before him. Zahir was rushing for her then, his nostrils seeming to flare as well. Before she knew it, she was swept up in his strong arms. She eyed the coiled muscles of his biceps and realized that this strong specimen of man was hers, at least for the weekend, and she intended to take every advantage of it.

“You’re mine now, Miss Morgan,” he said, his tone a gravelly bass that made her wet, left her juices dripping from her channel.

“I am yours, my sheikh,” she responded, smirking broadly at him. “How are you going to prove it?”

“Like this,” he said, carrying her to the closest wall. Her back bit into the cool stone, and she felt the heft of him, the heaviness of his massive body as he pinned her to the wall. “I’m going to show you so many things, Addy.”

“All talk and no action is extremely cheap, my sheikh,” she teased.

He didn’t speak or offer a rejoinder for her taunt. Instead, his mouth was on the rosy pink bud of her nipple, his tongue flicking quickly until it had risen into a hardened, sensitized peak. She mewled under his ministrations as Zahir’s talented tongue started to circle her left areola with feverish devotion. Addison was even wetter than before.

But he wasn’t ready yet.

While his mouth alternated between licking, tickling, and suckling at both nipples, his right hand went lower. She realized only his left arm was left wrapped around her, but his body had pinned her well to the wall and his bulk and sheer strength of his arms had her securely in place. Once she realized how steady her position was, she relaxed and gave in to the sensations—the ragged panting of both of them, the cool stone biting into her back, the scent of sweat pouring from her lover. His fingers found her most secret folds and parted them. Then he slid a long, thick finger into her channel.

He pulled his finger out, slowly and deliberately, torturing her before he gave her all that she wanted.

“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, Addy? Do you want me inside of you? Do you want all of me?”

“Yes,” she gasped out, her voice a husky whisper that she barely recognized.

He slid two fingers inside of her this time, stretching her a bit as he went. “Really, what will you do for me?”

“Anything, anything you need. I’ll make the limo ride feel like a boring Sunday joyride,” she said. “I just need you now, and then I’ll do so many naughty things to you, Zahir. I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said, easing his fingers out of her.

Then she felt something else, just the tip of his manhood as it probed at her hidden lips. Then he quickly thrust inside of her, and suddenly he was deep in her channel. It had been a while since she’d had sex, and he’d barely prepared her with his fingers, but this was part of what made this type of union so exciting. It wasn’t about the slow caresses and the foreplay. This was about raw, sensual need, about that animalistic drive to possess. Zahir was possessing her, making her hurt in all the right ways, and she couldn’t help but have the same needs.

If he went too slow, she was sure it would keep the energy pent up inside of her until she flat-out exploded.

He leaned up and kissed her lips and then her cheeks, even as she panted, her firm breasts heaving with each breath. “Are you okay…I…I just wanted it so badly. I should have teased you more, gotten you more ready.”

“No,” she said, her voice adamant. “It feels so good. Please.”

He responded to the desperation in her moan and began to move with a focused fury. She lifted her hips up as best she could, even in this awkward position against the wall. Every time he thrust forward, pounded into her, she moved with him, her pelvis coming forward to match the motions of his own. Reaching up with her hands, she dug her fingernails into his back, trying to find purchase to keep her tethered to the Earth as the pleasure flooded through her.

The ecstasy started from her core, from where their bodies were locked together. It was just a series of little sparks, easing up through the skin and through her muscles, electricity dancing and playing over her body and seeping in through her channel to her deepest core. It was overwhelming, and she slammed her eyes shut against the force of it all. Zahir was panting now with his own efforts as he slammed into her again and again. They were locked together in this battle, their bodies colliding with fury and force and frantic needs. He was swearing, at least she thought he was. Technically, he was screaming in Arabic, but it sounded from the tone like it was quite a blue streak.

She felt the same way, although the only word to escape her lips was
Zahir
. It had become her only refrain, her only prayer.

He thrust deeper inside of her, the head of his manhood hitting her G-spot in just the right way, sending more than just electrical sparks through her body. Her eyes were still shut tight when her orgasm hit her, and it felt as if fireworks had gone off. It wasn’t just that she could see them behind her eyelids. Oh no; it was far more than that. She could see the lights—the brilliant emeralds and violets—but she could
feel
it all too. The electricity swirled through her body, pounding into every bit of her.

He came soon after, and part of her wished that they weren’t separated by a layer of latex. She had no desire to be a mother now or even very soon, but she wanted to feel all of him inside of her. If they continued as a couple, she’d have to make a note to get on the pill.

He stumbled a bit but never let his grip on her loosen, eventually getting them to the bed. Zahir helped settle her under the comforter first, and then did the same for himself, drawing her to his chest and kissing the top of her head, even as he flexed his hips once more against hers. Teasing her with what they’d be doing later and all over again throughout the night.

“That was fantastic, Addy. Thank you.”

She snorted and tried to remember how to form coherent words in English. “I think I should be thanking you. You’re no slouch yourself, my sheikh.”

He chuckled and she felt his chest rumble with his laugh. “Thanks for the praise, my dear. Now get some rest, we have so much more to do.”

Boy, do we.

Chapter Seven

She was turning into one of those people, those hopelessly cheery people who loved Mondays, was always bouncy on the phone, and wanted to actually wake up before her alarm in the morning. Her brother had commented on it yesterday during her Skype call with him, and she couldn’t deny it. In the two weeks since they’d gotten back from the Al Ain, she’d been smiling broadly at work and enjoying dates and so much more with Zahir by night. She’d even caught herself humming in the shower. She’d
never
done that before. But it was hard not to be that hopelessly cheery, Mary Poppins-type when she was so happy. Like this evening, she was humming some old Rihanna song to herself—something silly from back in high school—and flat-ironing her hair. Zahir was going to pick her up shortly for a top-secret date.

It wasn’t that they were cuddly at work, neither of them found it appropriate, but they didn’t hide their relationship outside of the office. The date was top secret for another reason. He’d planned something special, and he had refused to tell her more than just to be ready by eight and to wear comfortable shoes.

If he’d said she needed jeans again, she’d have figured she was in for another camel ride. Whatever this was, she was completely unsure, but she continued to hum the next verse of “I’ve Been Everywhere” as she daydreamed about the next wonderful surprise that Zahir had readied for her.

***

Her eyes widened at the spectacle before her. As Zahir helped her out of the limo, Addison could barely process the sight that greeted her. There were dozens of vendors, all working out of tiny glass stalls (or boxes, really) and selling gold of all kinds. There were giant cuffs and bracers, rings of every shape and size, necklaces that were thick and ones made of the finest filigrees. All of it shone in the fluorescent lights overhead. It was Dubai, after all, and she was rapidly learning that for the right price, you could find any luxury and any big ticket item that you wanted.