The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 3 (Jatar Sheikh 3)

“I am, I feel more balanced.”

“I must ask you Anna, are you truly okay with my possessive affection? Or are you gritting your teeth on the inside, wishing I would leave you be?”

“I’m actually doing so much better Omar, and right now, at least in this moment, I don’t feel the need to scream or flee or fight back. That was the worst part, I was so helpless and even my struggles meant nothing. It was the helplessness I think. At least for now, I am fine.” I tilted my head up and pecked at his lips and he stoically pretended to not care, “You can kiss me silly. I think it’s just the worst when I wake up from a nightmare and you hold me even tighter. I can’t breathe and I’m not really aware of what is happening—only that panic is rushing through me.”

He did return my kisses then, and for the first time I felt a miniscule amount of arousal inside my body. This made me to believe I was going to be fine and my old self soon enough, so I let it go at that. He grew hard under my lap, his favorite thing to do, but I said nothing more on the subject and he didn’t initiate any other touching or escalation in passion.

“I am so proud of how you communicated with your father.” He said.

“I guess it had to happen sometime. And I meant it when I told him my near death changed me. I can’t let stuff slide anymore. I just can’t. I wish he was sincere and he would start treating my mom better and maybe help her instead of being the cause of her loneliness.”

“You don’t think he will at least try?”

I shrugged, “I seriously doubt it. People don’t really change that much, at least not overnight. He might try for a short time, and that might make it even worse for mom when he retreats back into what he knows best. He is a cold man, and as much as I wish it weren’t so, that is how he’s been my entire life.”

I told Omar about Miguel, the young man from Argentina that my mom had fallen in love with when she was only twenty one, and the subsequent heart break when he could not choose her and their love, over his family and those obligations. Omar listened intently, nodding and making sounds of understanding. When I was finished, he kissed me and held me tighter.

He mumbled against my hair, “I’ve considered what I would do if I was told I had to choose you or my empire.”

I waited to ask for the answer. Part of me didn’t want to know. Instead I deflected, “It hasn’t been an issue has it? I mean, I’ve yet to meet your parents, but it seems you have a certain amount of independence.”

“Yes, I am grateful for my parent’s leniency in this area.”

I asked in confusion, “Are you already the king? Sorry, I get confused, it seems to me as if you are already the ruler.”

He let out an ironic chuckle, “My father is still king, but only in a figurehead sense of the word. It is I that is truly ruling and making the hard choices. In time he will hand over the crown, but for now he is still the seated king.”

I nodded and grew quiet as I thought. “When will I meet them?”

“Soon darling, when your bruises have disappeared and we have returned to life as before. Then I will invite them to join us and you shall meet the entire family. Did you know I have younger siblings?” I gave him a raised eyebrow look of interest, “I do, two much younger brothers and a sister only three years my junior.”

“Um, I’m embarrassed to ask this, but I guess it would be good for me to know. How old are yo

u?”

His hearty chuckle helped me with the awkwardness, “I suppose we have never discussed the difference in our ages. I was born in November of 1982. I am thirty two, my love.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re a Scorpio?”

“No? Have I already stung you with my tail?”

I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly, “Oh yeah big guy, you’ve injected me with your poison on more than one occasion already. I’m full of your toxins! Overflowing in fact! Yeah, you’ve stung me a few times!”

He laughed and bit at my neck, pinching the skin between his teeth so it smarted like an injection. His hand went between my legs too, and he stroked at my sex. I didn’t shrink away even though I had a moment of breath holding fear wash over me. It passed soon enough and I moaned against his lips, “I really do love you Omar.”

“Ahhh, and I love you, my Anna.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

On Saturday, it was going to be a month since the kidnapping. I was pretty much healed up on the outside, and I was getting as back to myself as I could. I had permanent scars on both thighs near my hip bones from where the knife cut through my jeans all the way to my skin, and my left eye still looked wonky to me, like it was just a tad more sunken into my skull than the right one. I could see okay out of it, but I still got headaches on that side of my head. The doctors said that in time even those would stop when the deep, internal bruising finally dissipated.

My mother had stayed nearly two weeks and I’d really missed her once she’d flown home. True to his normal ways, my dad stayed only two nights and although he seemed nicer and more open to the idea of me and Omar, I knew he was only faking his way through most of it. He had apologized to Omar for the name calling and they’d seemed to form a tentative, albeit reluctant friendship. My mom had told me, dad was trying only because of me and how much he loved me. I’d thought that seemed farfetched, but I was happy even if it was all an act on my dad’s part.

My ankle was healed, but I couldn’t walk in high heels, which I thought was ironic since it was one of Omar’s only rules. He adored high heels and even now, while I remained in flats and sneakers, he scowled down at my feet. “Have you tried?”

“Yes, I have. Yasmin helped me and I nearly broke my neck. I just can’t keep it at that angle yet. Someday though, darling, someday.”

He scowled and nodded, “Very well. Those are,” He wrinkled his nose, “I suppose the word is, cute?”