The Sheik's Son

“Am I hurting you?” He cursed himself. He should have remembered her body wasn’t used to this.

Sophie winced slightly but shook her head. “No. It feels tender down there, but no pain.”

He moved ever so gently in and out of her body in a fluid motion as Sophie gasped and arched her hips.

“Oh, Bash. It feels wonderful,” she told him, closing her eyes in pleasure.

Sebastian smiled as he gazed down at his young wife. He wanted her like this, always hungry for more and for him. He would never want it any other way.

She moaned softly as he set a soothing pace of pressing deep inside her and then pulling out. His shaft filled her completely and then he pulled out until just the tip of it rimmed her and then deep inside again until he felt the seed building inside him. As he emptied his seed, he knew that if a child was conceived he would be pleased.

They lay together in the bed for several minutes before Sebastian kissed her forehead and began to dress in his clothes from the night before.

“I’m not one to mince words, Sophie,” he told her, his tone serious.

Sophie had been lying in bed reliving the two encounters with her husband when he spoke. She turned to him, lying on her stomach with her palms on the pillow supporting her head.

She frowned. “Yes?”

“We need to discuss last night.” He moved over to her dressing table and picked up the brush and comb that had fallen to the floor the night before.

He bent over and retrieved the perfume bottle, which had indeed toppled over, its contents spilled out.

“Last night?” Sophie asked, confused. “Do you usually talk about your encounters? What do I say? I have no comparison.”

Sebastian almost laughed. “No, we don’t need to talk about it, and you will never have another man to compare me to. I’m not talking about us, Sophie. I’m talking about the government building and the man in the black coat.”

Sophie turned pale as she watched her husband return her perfume bottle to its rightful place. He looked into the mirror and saw her reaction.

“Sophie, what is it?”

She looked around the floor and found her white linen shift. She pulled it on and faced her husband, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know what to say,” she almost whispered.

“Just tell me the truth. I’m your husband and I will do everything in my power to protect you.” He came to stand before her.

She pulled her hair up and back and tried to find the words. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“At the beginning. Come, Sophie. Tell me what’s happened or I’ll expect the worst.”

“Very well.” She took a deep breath. The hiding and sneaking around was at an end. She would either face it alone, or he would be a true husband and protect her from the inspector. “Two weeks ago the inspector summoned me to his lodgings.”

“You went alone to his lodgings?!” Sebastian thundered, shocked.

“Yes. The note was implicit in that. Indeed, besides his address, it was the only thing he mentioned.” Sophie looked away from his gaze.

Sebastian cursed himself. He should have known the blackguard had not given up. “What happened at the lodgings?”

“He mentioned that he had been following me for some time. He called me a traitor to my country and the monarchy.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Bastard.”

Sophie shrugged. “I asked him the most obvious question. I asked him if he had proof.” At this, Sophie shook her head. “I had given him my own head on a platter.”

“How so?” Sebastian asked.

“My grandmother is such a stickler for niceties and tradition. She insisted I write a personal thank-you card to everyone who had attended the ball. That included the inspector.”