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The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh 2)

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We drunkenly made our way home and I leaned on Omar for support. Between the alcohol and the shoes, and I was not that stable in an upright position. He helped me and together we made our way to the pool room. I’d declared I wanted to swim, and so, we were going to do just that. I kicked off my shoes and then without much thought, I stripped for him. He was sitting so he could remove his shoes, and so I turned it into a bit of a show.

By the time I was down to my bra and panties, and was barefoot, Omar had slid off his slacks and was as jutting and hard as I’d ever seen him. He strode to me and helped me remove the last remnants of lace that covered my body and when he freed my breasts, I sighed. He picked them up, and rubbed them in his palms, muttering, “I love the weight of them.”

He slid his hard cockhead up against my belly and skidded it along my abdominals. I cupped his balls and fondled his sack and danced my fingers along his length. We touched and stroked the other, tracing muscles and ligaments and on me he continued to run his thumbs over my nipples, and then my collar bone and my lips. It was as if he was blind and he needed to tactilely feel all of me.

He found and touched every bruise or mark he could find and he kissed each with a tenderness that made me tremble and shiver. “Rest assured my love; I will never hurt you worse than this, ever! You have my word on that! Your pale, soft flesh, offers me all the satisfaction I seek when I am able to pinken your cheeks and decorate your skin without causing you true pain.”

“It never hurt the way I would have thought. I was shocked at how it heightened everything. Even now, all this does hurt, but it’s a sweet ache, and I’m relishing it.”

He pinned our lower bodies together and rubbed himself roughly against me, “It’s an art Anna.”

I threw my head back and mocked him a bit. “Whatever you say, master.”

We eventually did romp in the pool, continuing to explore the others body in the most intimate of ways. I often would hold him or stroke up between his thighs, dancing my fingers over all of his manhood until he would moan and his hips would buck and he would swear because he’d vowed that we would not make love on this night.

“What if I want it?” I said in the sexiest voice I could muster.

“No, you evil temptress. You need a day to heal, or more, although I cannot deny my need for more than a day.”

I pretend pouted, but I really did agree. So we ended up in bed, naked and tangled together like pretzels. We kissed often and snuggled like exhausted puppies with full bellies after playing too hard. During the night, we would wake occasionally and reach out to touch the other, making sure that some parts of our bodies were always connected.

In the morning he stroked my hair and kissed me and then quickly left the bed with a whispered exclamation, “If I stay, I will never leave.”

When he returned, dressed to the nines, he announced, “I must tend to some matters. I will not return until tomorrow evening. Everything you could need is here, do not leave the residence.”

I sulked as I sat up in bed, exposing my breasts and momentarily distracting him. He licked his lips. “Must you go? “ I offered.

He knelt on the bed, “Yes, I must go, it is part of being a ruler in this country. Rest assured my goddess, when I return, I intend to hurt you in the most pleasing of ways.” He touched my neck and then he traced a finger across the largest bruise on my chest. “These are my marks of ownership on your body. You will feel me on you until I return. Never forget who you belong to.”

He kissed me back down into a prone position. I sighed and he lingered longer than I knew he’d intended. When he left, he did so with a groan of displeasure. I laid there after he left, wondering how I could be so besotted with him. I stroked over the warm, smooth surface of the one carat sapphire on my pinky finger, and I eventually fell back asleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

When I woke up, it appeared to be midday. I had an idea, so dressed in jeans and a long sleeve white blouse I found in the closet. It covered almost all of me apart from my upper chest. I put on a restrictive sports bra so my breasts were tight to my sternum. I then donned a ball cap and pulled my hair through the hole in the back and into a big pony tail. I found my old pair of vans sneakers that were pink polka dots, and then dug around in my purse for my sunglasses. I put those on the brim of my hat and then checked my reflection. The bruises on my neck stood out in stark contrast with my pale skin and I decided it would be really hard to cover them up with makeup, so I grabbed a scarf from the collection of silk hanging in the huge closet I was still afraid of, and I departed the suite.

I was all the way to the elevator doors when the female servant from the first day, hustled to block the doors from closing. “Mistress, you are not to leave.”

“Sorry, I don’t take orders that well. I’ll stay in the building. Just going down to the galleria.” Another servant came rushing in, and it distracted her long enough for me to push the close button. She squeaked out a protest, but it was too late and I was free.

I hit the lobby button, and it felt like it took forever to get to the bottom floor. On the way down I pulled the scarf over my head and around the sides of my face, and then tied it in a knot at my throat. I was now almost completely covered and the sunglasses provided that last little bit of camouflage. I was confident I could mix in and not be noticed. It wasn’t like anyone knew me anyway.

Once free, I sprinted for the double doors and a doorman quickly opened them. I burst out into the hot air and made my way towards the lake and the larger crowds. Within seconds I was lost amongst obvious tourists and local natives dressed in burkas and the men in turbans and sheets.

I felt reborn as well, like Omar had said that first weekend we’d spent together. I felt brave and invincible and as if I could do anything I set my mind to. I was empowered now, magically bolstered by his affection and attention and that odd feeling that I was strong and tuff because I could take, and also enjoy what he liked to dispense. I pleased him, and he was a King! I felt as if I had wings and could fly.

I relaxed and settled into a leisurely walk around the enormous man-made lake that spread out for acres inside the park that surrounded our building. I again craned my neck and was enthralled with the architecture. Even in all the outlaying shops and other buildings, the other high rises, even the places that I think were fueling stations or simple convenience stores; everything seemed as if the entire place was an art installation for a giant. I could picture it as if it were nothing more than a museum gallery meant for the deities to appreciate.

I soon got lost and had no idea where I was, but it didn’t matter. I was enjoying being outside and even though it was hot, I was okay and I felt as if I were seeing the world through different eyes. My entire perspective was now skewed, and I thought of Omar every second of my time away from him. If I let my mind wander, I could feel his marks on my skin as they flared to life. I wondered if he realized it would work that way. If whenever his marks reminded me of him, my body would twitch and my breaths would hitch. The marks themselves would throb and pulse and it was almost as if he were touching me again.

I was a bit out of it, kind of floating along and not really aware of where I was or the people nearest me. Nothing seemed capable of invading my little bubble of bliss as I strolled without thought and ended up quite a good distance away from the tallest building in the world. I could still see it, so I didn’t fret. I could always make my way back if need be.

I didn’t have any money other than what I’d had in my wallet in San Diego, but a nice woman in a full burka said she would take it. I got a shish kabob and a soda and continued my walk. I wandered into what must have been the outskirts of the city, where the servants apparently lived if they didn’t live on premises like Omar’s did. It was then that I felt as if I were being watched. I did a slow turn to get my bearings, and directly behind me about twenty yards away, four large men dressed in traditional white flowing robes and full headdresses

met my eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Omar Khalil’s plane landed and he was rushed to his car. They sped through the city and Omar finally arrived at his home.



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