The Sheikh’s Instant Family (The Safar Sheikhs 2)

“You’re my wife!” Amad whooped, picking her up at the hips. “And we’re having a baby!”

Excitement and wonder and joy pulsed through her. This was as high as she’d ever felt—and she was stone cold sober. Did everyone who got married feel like this? Maybe it only happened if it happened by the seat of your pants, something that both she and Amad excelled at.

But still, she was conditioned to question the happiness. She knew better than to get too excited about a man. Any man. Especially the man who wanted to dote on her.

“This really is the best day of my life,” she

said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “So far, at least.”

“Oh, you think you can top this one? An Old West pastor-sheriff just married us, need I remind you?” He dug out his polaroid picture of them posing with their wedding officiant. “This is going in my scrapbook.”

“You mean our wedding album?” she teased, but darkness edged at her contentment. For however happy she was right now, part of her believed it was just acting. Just a matter of waiting until the other shoe dropped and her life fell into its proper order: alone, abandoned, and bitter.

After all, it was the only thing she’d known growing up. Why would it all change with Amad, her pseudo-boyfriend turned husband?

She knew how to push these thoughts away. While Amad tossed the picture onto the dining room table, she nuzzled his neck, nipping at him with her lips.

“Mmmm.” His hands appeared at her hips, smoothing across her ass cheeks. Heat prickled in her core. Even though she hadn’t felt a single symptom of early pregnancy yet, she knew plenty were on their way. So maybe they needed to get all their fucking in now.

“We should celebrate our matrimony,” she whispered into his ear, swaying slowly against him. “In the only way a husband and wife can.”

“By opening a joint checking account?” Amad cracked.

A sharp laugh escaped her. She squeezed her arms around his waist. “No, silly. Where you do me until dawn.”

“I knew there was a reason I married you.” Amad grinned as he smoothed her hair back.

“Apparently there were a few reasons you married me.” She snagged his lips in another kiss and tugged at the laps of his sports coat. “Come on, Amad. I need it.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he said, hoisting her by the hips. She giggled, hooking her ankles behind his back as he carried her through the apartment, heading for the balcony. They’d fucked out there before—his long sprawling couch made outdoor sex more than enjoyable—but tonight, it felt especially right.

“Is it time for wedding-night sex under the desert sky?” She nibbled at his earlobe. He shivered visibly. That was his weak spot.

“You know it,” he growled, gripping her ass cheeks so hard she thought he might leave bruises. Not that she would mind. They would be like a wedding present. The best present on this unlikely, unexpected, totally unplanned honeymoon of sorts.

He laid her down gently, at odds with how fiercely he’d been gripping her.

“I’m not a delicate doll, you know,” she teased as he tugged off her black high-heeled boots.

“I know that more than anyone. But you’re carrying our child, in case you forgot.” His grin glinted in the residual light from below that reached them on his twentieth-floor balcony. “I need to take extra care of you.”

His words warmed her more than she wanted to admit. “You win the sweetest husband award.”

“Then we’re off to a good start.” He rolled her onto her side to unzip the pearlescent dress, and then he peeled it off her almost reverently. Her skin shone silvery and smooth in the dim lighting. Amad placed the dress aside with care, and then shucked his own business-casual suit.

Vanessa ran her hands all over his exposed tawny skin. He was silky smooth but pure man, rippling with defined muscles. He kept his face shorn smooth, but dark, wiry chest hair spread across his pecs, ending in a tight trail that led her eyes toward his legs.

His cock strained hard, brushing against her low belly. She took the length of him in her hand; he was steel wrapped in velvet. He shuddered and moaned low.

“I wonder if sex will feel different now that we’re married?” She squeezed the tip of his cock. Amad shuddered, his hips bucking toward her.

“Better,” he croaked. His lips found the hollow of her neck. “For sure.”

She didn’t know about that, but there was only one way to find out. Amad’s damp kisses trailed down her jawline, over her collarbone, and between her breasts. He unhooked her bra in the process, flinging it aside, and then made a damp trail down her belly. He wasted no time in burying his face between her legs. It was one of his favorite spots—perhaps one of the reasons they got along so well.

“Ohhh, Amad,” Vanessa said, her voice low and shaky as his hot tongue found the tip of her clit. She knotted her fingers in his hair as he pressed teasing kisses along the crease of her pussy. His tongue flicked against her intermittently, teasingly. Never enough.

He pushed her thighs further apart, leaving her splayed out and panting as he dipped his tongue into her juicy womanhood. His dark eyes found hers as he licked and sucked and tongued her, a mischievous grin curling his lips.