Sheikh's Revenge

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.

Now there were stalls and stalls of gold, and she wasn’t sure what was going on. How could any of this be intended for her. She’d only been dating Zahir for two weeks. The gold here was real, and even a thin necklace had to be worth hundreds. It was all so much.

“I can’t do this,” she said, her voice an awed whisper even as Zahir took her by the hand and led her to the nearest stall.