The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress 3 (Jatar Sheikh 7)

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, “Indeed. I’ve already implemented tighter security precautions around the estate and forever more there will be guards assigned to both you and the boy. You are my prized possessions—both of you. Actually, there will be two men assigned to you while you attend university.” He leveled a steely gaze in my direction, “I’ll hear no dissent from you on this matter. Understood?”

I gave him a begrudging nod of agreement.

Then he let out a sardonic chuckle, “You will be required to wear a burka.”

“Oh, hell no!” I rejoined way too quickly. Giving it no thought.

“I can change the rules within our home and behind the safety of these walls, but I cannot change the customs of m

y people—the customs of generations of my culture. You will have no choice in this matter.”

I whined, “I hate those things! Who wears full length black in a hundred and twenty degree temps? Who? It’s like torture!” My inner brat instantly resurfaced at being told something I didn’t want to do, and I snapped. “Your culture sucks! This is totally unfair!”

Everything about Amir stilled and he pulsed his jaw. He said nothing, but I felt his anger and disappointment. Time stalled, and I knew two things in that instant. One, he was considering everything about our relationship—even marrying me. And two, he was asking himself if he loved me enough to persevere. By the set of his strong jaw, I think he also might have been considering how he could punish me for insolence.

I also had a rush of knowing settle over me. This wasn’t just his culture. This was now also my culture, and soon to be the beliefs, principles, and culture of my baby boy. This was his country, his kingdom, and I was the queen mother. I really had no choice at this point. With these realizations came a wave of shame at my juvenile behavior and angst over the fact I’d very rudely insulted my husband and his country.

“I am so sorry!” I left my chair and went to my knees in front of Amir who was still glaring at me as if he might discard me within the moment. “Please forgive me!” I wailed. “That was totally out of line and uncalled for, and I am such a spoiled brat sometimes.” He ground his teeth and continued to stare at me with an uneasy expression. I put my hands on his thighs, “Please, Amir. I am so sorry if I insulted you.”

He inhaled through his nose. When he exhaled, his entire body relaxed. “You try my patience at times, Julie.”

“I know! I know!” I responded with an ashamed expression.

“I appreciate your repentance. I will however be punishing you later.” His tone was attempting stern, but I could hear his inner amusement filtering through.

Now it was my turn to clench my jaw, “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.” He leaned forward and held my chin firmly between a thumb and forefinger. “I will make sure you remember this infraction.”

I didn’t know what else to say. Part of me was thrumming with anticipation at this proposed punishment—almost excited. The rest of me was apprehensive. The best I could do was bat my lashes and mutter, “Yes, daddy.” This elicited a deep belly laugh from Amir.

Chapter Four

By the time we were alone that night, I’d almost forgotten about this so called punishment. Amir had not. I was brushing my teeth when he strolled into the bathroom, sliding his belt from the loops in his pants. “You will assume the position now.”

“What?”

He slapped the folded belt against his palm. It made a dull sound of impact. “You heard me.”

I gnawed my lip and gave it a good thought. My entire body was humming in anticipation, and my center was practically dripping. If it was from his show of dominance or just the anticipation of the sex to follow, I wasn’t certain. All I knew was that at this moment, I wanted nothing more than to be ravished by my sheikh.

I surprised him. “Where do you want me?”

“I don’t wish to hurt you, Julie, but I feel there needs to be some sort of amends made in regards to your earlier comment.”

“What did you have in mind?”

He thought on it for a spell, and I patiently waited, studying his expression this time. In many respects, he was gentler than I would have been if the tables were turned. I was a bit of a brat, and I could honestly say I deserved a solid spanking for my earlier comments. But my husband did not desire to hurt me, and for that I loved him even more. He was nothing like the portrayals of men from his race, and it made me want to shout from the rooftops how much I adored him.

“I’ve decided. I want you naked, at my feet. You shall kneel before me, and then you shall crawl and submit to me fully.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but he lifted a large finger and his eyebrows at the same time, silencing me. I dropped the robe on the floor and sunk down to my knees. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. I’d never knelt before him from a command, not like this. I’d knelt to give him oral sex, and I’d played at the submission game, but I’d never obeyed him when he commanded such from me. He actually had never commanded the act—I’d given it freely. Now that I was surrendering fully to his will, I could see how it was already affecting him. I lowered my forehead to the floor and pressed it to the tops of his toes with my arms back at my sides and my ass up in the air. I could hear his heavy breaths. He bent and stroked a warm hand down my spine and then lingered over my bottom, petting it and then squeezing it.

He left then, and I knew what he wanted. I began crawling out into our suite, swaying my hips like a tigress in the savannah. I looked up at him and growled as I again went to his feet. His voice cracked with desire, and my entire body salivated. “Turn around and show me what is mine.”

I did as he commanded, and as I spread my knees apart, I again lowered my chest to the carpet. I knew I was already shiny with lubrication, and I could feel it even more when the cool air of the room danced across my most vulnerable, damp folds. Amir hissed with desire, and my body rippled with gooseflesh. He knelt behind me and again stroked and petted me. His finger danced between my legs, and he hissed again. He fondled my sex and muttered, “You are swollen with need, my Julie.”

I was, I wanted him something fierce at this point, and when just one of his fingers entered me, I cried out. Even just his finger felt big as it pushed on my inner walls and filled me up. “So tight,” he whispered as he continued to slide it in and out, softening my insides to a receptive kind of pulsing, wet, aching need. My nipples were so hard and jutting, I found it uncomfortable when they rubbed against the carpet. My pussy was soaking out through the apex of my thighs, and my insides were boiling. He crawled in closer to me, pressing his thighs to mine while I stayed in this prostrate position. He spread my stance just a tad more and then lifted my bottom up higher, angling my pelvis so he could see every inch of me.