Bound to Favor

by Kiru Taye

  She’d hit a sore point but he wasn’t about to go there today.

  “Well, things will go wrong soon. Have you forgotten our plan to elevate our family status? That plan will go off the rails if you marry your assistant.”

  “We’ve already achieved our goal. I am the CEO of Danladi Cement.”

  “Yes, I know. But I want you to become the next Chairman of the Danladi Group.”

  “That wasn’t in our original plan, Mother.”

  “I know. But you’re entitled to it. If you father hadn’t done what he did, you would’ve been the current Emir. Being Chairman of the group is the next best thing.”

  Her words were in line with his ambitions, and fit with his plans to rise within the Danladi ranks. He was glad he wasn’t Emir, in a sense. The title brought restrictions he didn’t want. But the prospect of being Chairman was more appealing, more achievable.

  “Laila’s father is very influential and he’s also on the board of the Danladi Group. When it comes time to vote the next Chairman, you know he will vote for you as his son-in-law.”

  He recalled the face of the woman who had appeared shocked when he’d announced that he was engaged.

  Laila was younger than his sisters, somewhere in her 20s. She was pretty and young and looked the part.

  However, he hadn’t felt any overwhelming attraction to her.

  Not like he had towards Ebun.

  He remembered the disappointment that shadowed Ebun’s eyes before she’d left the room. His stomach cramped as if he’d been punched.

  He’d brought her here and put her in the firing line of his mother and sisters.

  She didn’t deserve the treatment no matter what his mother thought or his own ambitions.

  “Mum, I understand what you’re saying. Being Chairman is a lovely gift, if it comes. But I brought Ebun here as my fiancée and I need you to be nice to her while she’s here. I won’t have you or anyone else treat her badly.”

  “Okay. Understood.” She exhaled a sigh. “But will you at least consider what I said about the chairman position and Laila? Get to know her before you dismiss her. Please.”

  “Okay, Mum. I’ll think about it.” He stood up and left the living room. “I need to find Ebun.”

  Knowing his sisters she would be getting the Spanish Inquisition.

  He found the terrible pair coming out of one of the upstairs guest rooms and overhead Yasmin say “Isn’t being gay better than this one?”

  “Who is gay?” Kamali asked as he strode up to them. He assumed they were gossiping about some poor chap. His sisters were always full of stories whenever they came to visit from their marital homes.

  They both startled and turned to face him.

  “No one,” Fahima said, beaming a smile that seemed too innocent.

  Yasmin giggled.

  He just shook his head. “Where is Ebun?”

  Fahima pointed at the entrance they’d just come out of as she walked past him.

  Kamali frowned. “I hope you haven’t been harassing my fiancée.”

  “Would we do such a thing?” Yasmin said with a hand on her chest as if she’d been hurt.

  “Yes, you would.” He wasn’t buying her innocent act.

  “Only for your sake. We are looking out for you. You’re our only brother.”

  “What did you say to Ebun?” Kamali asked in a stern tone.

  Yasmin was spoilt and unruly. Sometimes he wondered how any man could live with her day-in day-out. He didn’t envy her husband.

  “I only asked her if she was pregnant,” Yasmin said.

  “You did what?” He shook his head. His mother had asked the same thing.

  “What other reason would you have to marry a Lagos girl?” Yasmin continued.

  “It’s none of your business,” Kamali retorted. He couldn’t believe his sister sometimes. He turned to Fahima who appeared chastised. “Get her out of here before I lay my hand on her.”

  Already angry and concerned for Ebun, he didn’t even think to knock before pushing open the door and walking into the room.

  His heart jolted and his chest ached at the sight before him.

  Ebun was curled up on top of the bed in the foetus position.

  Chapter Twelve

  As soon as Kamali’s sisters left the room, Ebun dragged shuffling feet across the room and slumped on the covered mattress. Fatigue made her movements lethargic and slow as she toed off the platform sandals.

  She flopped on her side on the bed and pulled her knees up as tears built up behind her eyeballs. A tumult of emotions went through her body and at that moment she was back to being the depressed teenager.

  In those days she’d hidden her misery by bottling up the volatile emotions she’d lived with after her father’s departure.

  Now, her usual reticent didn’t hold up. The liquid seeped from her eyes and dropped onto the cotton-covered quilt.

  The man she had adored and put on a pedestal, the man who had called her an African princess, who had made all her troubles go away as a child, had suddenly up and left. Her life had never been the same afterwards.

  But one thing had lived with her since—the feeling of never being good enough or worthy of love and acceptance.

  She had sworn never to let anyone see her cry. Never to let anyone close enough to hurt her.

  Why didn’t she keep to her own rules? Why did the behaviour of Kamali’s family hurt her? She shouldn’t have any vested interest, after all they were only pretending to be engaged.

  Yet she knew in her heart, she felt more for her boss. Wanted more.

  “Ebun.”

  She heard the sound of her name as if it came from a faraway place. It took a few more seconds to realise that Kamali was in the room and squatted beside the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, sounding concerned.

  She turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her face and know that she had been crying. “Go away.”

  She wanted to be left alone to wallow in her misery.

  “No. I won’t leave you.”

  The bed depressed indicating that Kamali’s weight was on it. His arm settled around her.

  Perhaps it was a combination of his words and his heat on her back providing comfort that set her off. More tears seeped out and her body trembled. But she’d never been a loud crier, a skill she’d learned from years of crying silently and not wanting to be discovered.

  Kamali didn’t say anything but his grip on her body tightened. He knew she was upset, her trembling body would’ve given her away even if he couldn’t see her face.

  He chose not to mention it and her respect for him grew.

  He had many endearing qualities and he’d just added another.

  His silent and comforting presence soothed her and eventually the tears stopped.

  She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom. But that would involve him seeing her mascara-streaked face. If she could get him to leave, she could tidy up.

  “Why did you come to my room?” she asked.

  “I told you I would come and find you when I finish chatting with mum.” His breath whispered against the skin of her nape, making it tingle. “Tell me what upset you.”

  She sighed and tried to divert attention from his probing question. She couldn’t reveal what was really eating her up inside. “It doesn’t matter. What did your mother say?”

  “We’ll talk about Mum later. I want to know why you were upset.”

  She pushed into a sitting position. “I told you it doesn’t matter.”

  She got off the bed, intending to walk to the bathroom.

  “Of course it matters. You are my fiancée.” He reached for her arm.

  She swivelled as anger flared. She couldn’t let herself be swept away by this whole act.

  “Oh, don’t you dare patronise me. I am not your fiancée. I’m not polished or elegant enough to be considered your wife. According to your family the only reason you would consider me is if I were pregnant.�
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  He moved and sat at the edge of the bed. “Don’t mind my sisters. Their opinions don’t matter.”

  “So if I discount your sisters, what about you?” She waved her hand in the air at him.

  “What about me?” His eyes narrowed as his brows creased.

  “I’ve worked with you for two years and you’ve never even noticed me, never paid me any attention other than for work. I’m here now because you need a fake fiancée. Your sisters think we’ve been having sex in the office. If only they knew you wouldn’t touch me with a barge pole.”

  She suddenly had no wish to hide her emotions about him, as anger bolstered her resolve.

  "You think I never noticed you all these years?" Kamali asked in a gravelly voice that carried a warning.

  Ebun halted before she reached the door to the bathroom. Heart racing, she folded her arms around her midriff to hide their trembling and didn't turn to face him.

  "When you're deep in concentration you bite your bottom lip until it turns pink," he continued, his tone deeper than normal. "When you smile, a dimple appears on your left cheek ... and when you're excited, your brown eyes sparkle like gold dust."

  So enthralled by his words, she hadn't heard his approaching footsteps until her back prickled with his body heat.

  "Ebunoluwa, I notice you every goddamned day."

  His candour undid her, and smashed through defences she’d erected around her. All the while she’d thought he’d overlooked her, he’d been paying attention. Warmth seeped into her heart and tingled across her chest.

  What could she say to him? ‘Thank you’ seemed inadequate and inappropriate.

  In any case, it wasn’t gratitude making her pulse accelerate and her body tremble as she turned around.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs when she met Kamali’s burning gaze.

  The intensity of his stare pinned her to the spot and she couldn’t move.

  “Granted, we're here now because I need your help. But it doesn’t take away the fact that you are a beautiful woman. There’s no way anybody will not notice you. Trust me.”

  Before she could assimilate his words, his lips descended on her. First it was a light brush against hers from one edge to the other. But in that heart-stopping moment, her lips parted as she wanted closer contact, the urge to taste him increasing by the second.

  He didn’t disappoint her. His tongue delved into her mouth. Plundered and possessed her. She yielded and opened up. Welcomed the heat, and the intensity.

  He unleashed repressed feelings, allowing passion to reign supreme.

  Her fingers clutched his shirt, clinging on, needing his solidity to keep her standing when her knees threatened to give way.

  He was her anchor keeping her grounded in a world where she was boneless and about to float away.

  He broke the kiss and whispered against her lips, “Look at what you do to me.”

  The deep timbre of his voice made her heart race as his fingers gripped the nape and tilted her head back.

  “If you knew the thoughts in my head, the things I want to do to you, to your beautiful body,” he continued.

  She breathed in short bursts, his words as electrifying as his touch. He thought she had a beautiful body?

  There was no mistaking the lust in his dark gaze. But there was something else, enthralling and revealing, all at the same time.

  “You want me?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. She’d just had the most exhilarating kiss of her life. Was there a chance for more?

  “Yes. Don’t look so surprised. I’ve wanted you from the first day I met you. But I swore I wouldn’t touch you.” His thumb stroked the sensitive skin of her neck.

  The weight on her chest fizzled away leaving her lightheaded as her pulse sped up and adrenaline rushed through her.

  “I thought...” Her mouth had dried out. She licked her lip and swallowed. “I thought you didn’t want me. Couldn’t want me. Look at me, I’m not pretty.”

  “Ebunoluwa,” his voice suddenly took on a stern, warning tone. “Don’t ever say that. You are beautiful.”

  She shook her head. He had to say it to cheer her up.

  How could he describe her as beautiful? His sisters were beautiful. The woman they’d called Laila was beautiful.

  He gripped her hand and tugged it down. “Do you need proof of how beautiful you are, of how much I want you?”

  She lowered her gaze to his groin before he placed her hand on the bulge tenting his trousers. He was hard and hot under the fabric.

  “This is what you do to me every time I see you.”

  “Really?” she asked in a breathless voice.

  “Yes,” his voice sounded gruff as if he was fighting for control.

  Desire burnt away the last of her inhibitions. Feeling emboldened, she stroked his turgid length through the linen.

  His groan rumbled around them, his eyes gleaming. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come. But I’d rather do it while buried inside you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Will you?” Ebun managed to ask through a dry mouth. Being this close to Kamali sent persistent pressure to her core and she wanted him inside her.

  “Will I do what?” His eyes blazed and scorched her skin as they roved over her body.

  “Will you bury yourself inside me, please?” She had to be in a dream because she uttered words she’d fantasised about saying to him.

  His lips curled upwards and he stepped away.

  Disappointment curdled her stomach as she wondered if he would walk out of the room. When he got to the door she heard the click of the lock. He strode to the armchair and settled into it.

  “Come here,” he demanded in a deep voice that sent desire coursing through her.

  She hurried to him and stood in front of him.

  “Pull your top off,” he said as he reached for her Capri and pulled the front zipper down.

  She obeyed.

  His hands brushed her skin making it tingle as he pushed the trousers down. She wiggled and kicked it off, now standing in just her black lace bra and knickers set.

  The way he looked at her sent her heart racing and her body flushed hot. She was almost naked in front of her boss. She’d wanted a day like this from the first time she’d seen him. Now it was happening.

  “You are so gorgeous and voluptuous. My kind of woman.”

  She grinned at his words and yelped in surprise when he lifted her and spread her over the bed.

  He covered her body with his, the fabric of his attire rubbing her flesh. His hand parted her thighs as he settled between them. He kissed her again, taking possession. His tongues plundered and tangled with hers just as his hands roamed her flesh, caressing and kneading.

  He arched his hips, his erection pressing against her lace knickers. She felt his strength, his rigidity. But it wasn’t enough.

  She moaned into his mouth, wriggling her body restlessly, wanting more of him. Her pulse rate must be stratospheric making her dizzy with sensation.

  No other man had ever made her feel this way. Not even Jonah.

  And all Kamali was doing was kissing her.

  He pushed aside the bra and moulded her left breast before pinching the bullet-shaped nipple. Electricity zinged straight to her clit and she arched off the bed, straining in a desperate motion. She clung to his shoulders with one hand while rubbing his back with the other wanting to consume him the way he consumed her.

  Kamali grunted and broke the kiss, pressing her body tighter against hers. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  He pushed off to his knees enough to undo the zipper and shove down his trousers and briefs. His solid cock bounced free, stretched in her direction just as his gaze travelled up her body to meet hers.

  Her breath caught in her throat at the possessiveness in his eyes, as if she belonged to him. As if he couldn’t wait to claim her.

  “Nawa, your skin is a lovely caramel and as sweet as it looks. And I know your pussy
is going to taste sweeter.”

  She swallowed as she met his gaze, remembering what she’d wanted to ask. “You called me that in front of your mum. What does it mean?”

  “Nawa means mine.”

  Mine. She was his? She felt breathless and hypersensitive at the implication of his words. Was this still an act or did he mean it?

  She didn’t want to get drawn into conflicting thoughts so she reached down to touch his cock, to pull it inside her as a distraction.

  He caught her hand. “I’m going to taste you first. So be good and hold onto the headboard.”

  He spoke as if he knew exactly what she needed and she didn’t hesitate to grip the bars at the top of the bed.

  He pushed aside the damp lace of her knickers and burrowed fingers between her pussy lips. He slid the pads of his digits down to gather the liquid and spread it within her labia.

  When he pressed onto her clit she arched off the bed and moaned. He repeated the action making her squirm and writhe and nearly releasing her grip on the bar. Only her need to please him, made her hold on tight.

  He continued playing with her pussy, as if she were an instrument for him to pluck and strum, until she was wound so tight she exploded in a flash of ecstasy.

  “Mali!” she cried as he plunged fingers into her quivering channel and she clamped and convulsed around him. And his mouth descended on her slick hot flesh. His tongue was wicked, flicking and pressing while he hummed around her.

  Before long she cried out again and again, struggling to catch her breath between climaxes.

  When he finally lifted his head, he had a huge grin on his face as he pressed his lips to hers. She tasted her feminine tang on his lips.

  “You were just as sweet as I thought.” He pressed his lips to hers again. “I didn’t know you had a pet name for me. Mali?”

  He arched his brow still with the wicked grin on his face.

  Her cheeks heated. “All those orgasms frazzled my brain. I couldn’t speak in more than two syllables. Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. I like it. I want to hear you say it again and again.”

  “You mean you’re capable of making me come again,” she teased in return.