by M. K. Moore
“I was thinking of giving Heather Granny Holly’s ring,” I say, thinking about the large solitaire diamond in a gold setting.
“That would be perfect,” Majid says.
With that settled, the rest of the ride to the shore is uneventful. We make it home just in time for the seamstress and wedding dress designer to arrive. She is bringing samples that can be altered to Heather in a matter of hours.
It’s amazing what can be accomplished in a short amount of time when you are Sheik.
Chapter Six
Heather
After a very quick tour of the palace and our suite, I am ushered into my very empty closet where a seamstress is standing by to take my measurements. I am surprised to meet the super famous wedding dress designer Amani Khouri. All manner of celebrities wear her dresses to get married. She’s been in magazine spreads and movies. She even has a plus size line for actresses to wear to award shows.
“Hello, Ms. Faulkner. I am Amani. Let’s get you in a wedding dress, shall we?” she asks, her crisp British accent makes me smile.
“Yes, of course. It’s so nice to meet you,” I reply shaking her hand. “Please, call me Heather.”
“Of course. It’s lovely to meet you as well. I am honored to provide you with a wedding dress. Malik tells me you like my designs,” she says. As I’ve never spoken to Malik I am confused. When I frown, she continues. “He scoured your social media.” She laughs.
“Ah, I see,” I say, laughing.
“Anna is going to take your measurements, but I think I have something perfect for you,” she says digging through the portable clothes rack behind her. Anna quickly and efficiently takes my measurements.
“Hi, Anna,” I say, holding my arms out.
“Hello, ma’am.”
“Oh, it’s Heather, please.”
“Heather,” she replies. I notice that she hasn’t taken her eyes off of Amani’s butt as it’s all you can see of her at the moment. “Amani cleared her schedule for this.”
“Did she?” I ask as she wraps the tape measure around my bust.
“Oh, yeah. We were on the way to Fiji when we got the call.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to thank her for making the time for me.”
“It’s not every day she gets to outfit an American queen,” Anna says, then blushes.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure her. “I get it. This is weird and so sudden. I am sure people will wonder if I am pregnant or something,” I babble.
“Oh no. It’s all over the news,” she says pulling her phone out of her pocket. Right there plain as day is the headline “It’s love at first sight for Sheik Omar Iben Shan of Erurstan! Meet Heather Faulkner, the daughter of the US Ambassador to Egypt.” There are pictures of my social media and pictures of me as a kid from my mom’s. While this is weird and totally invasive, it’s worth it if I get to be with Omar. When you fall in love with a head of state, I’m quite certain this is always going to be in the cards and it’s not always going to be good. I vow to never let it come between us.
“Oh my God,” I exclaim in shock.
“It’s a really good article. Very informative about you. Nothing awful,” she says putting the phone back in her pocket and finishes up measuring me. She’s all done before Amani resurfaces from the rack.
“Awesome. I know it could have been worse,” I reply. Before she has a chance to say anything else, a muffled “yes” comes from the rack of clothes.
“Got it!” Amani shouts holding up a pure white dress that has an empire waist and is sleeveless. It’s very much my style.
“Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous,” I say reaching out to touch the lace overlay.
“Let’s see if it fits,” she says, smiling at me. Quickly, I step out of my clothes and stand there in my bra and panties. I used to be self-conscious of my body, but Omar made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and the one thing I’m not lacking today is confidence. Amani hands me the dress and I step into it, pulling it up my body. Anna and Amani lace the ribbon in the back up and tie it in a bow. It’s a perfect fit, like Cinderella’s slipper. When I step back and look at myself in the mirror I gasp. I don’t look like myself at all. My hair hasn’t been its normal color for years now and I’ve never worn anything so expensive before.
“Amani, this is beautiful,” I tell her, tears filling my eyes.
“You’re beautiful. I don’t think any alterations need to be made. I know now that I made this dress for you. Everything came to me in a dream.”
“That’s amazing,” I reply at a loss for words.
“It really is. Now, dry those tears. The makeup artist won’t like it if your eyes are all puffy,” she says, giving me a quick hug. “Let’s get you out of this and I’ll steam it. Hair and makeup are waiting in the bathroom,” Amani says as she unties the ribbons on the back of the dress.
“Probably not,” I murmur, still in awe as I step out of the dress. Amani picks it up and holds it close to her chest. “You’ll come to the wedding, right? Anna, you too,” I ask. It’ll be nice to know someone other than my family at the wedding.
“Of course, Anniekins and I will be there with bells and whistles on,” she says assuring me of the fact. As I am leaving the closet, I see Anna and Amani kissing. Well, that explains that. They are so adorable. I sneak away into the bathroom, giving them their privacy.
Once in the bathroom, I am told to strip and then practically shoved into a scented bath. The tub is huge. It looks like a small round pool sunk into the floor. It’s decadent and I immediately imagine Omar in here with me, making sinful waves.
As soon as I sit down, the water ripples and Sandalwood, White Tahara Musk Oil, and Madina Rose Oil immediately assault my senses. How did they know I love these scents? Then I think about my future husband. He probably knows every single thing there is to know about me. The two old women are moving around the room with a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible. My hair is brushed and styled as I soak in the tub.
“Out, ma’am,” one of the women says, holding open a bath sheet. I step out of the tub into the towel.
“What is your name?” I ask the woman trying to dry my feet off.
“Juliet. Now let me dry you so you don’t slip on this tile,” she says, her voice disapproving.
“Of course. Sorry,” I say letting her do her job. Is it her job?
“Now, that is done, we can chat for a moment. We are your ladies in waiting during your transition. As I said before I am Juliet, and this is Danielle. We are sure you’ll want to find some younger girls to assist you, to age with you. We were the late queen’s ladies. The Sheik thought we could assist you today.” She gestures to the chair in front of the vanity.
“How kind of you. I am sure you miss your lady” I say, sitting down.
“We do. She was lovely.” I nod, though I don’t know that for sure, but I am inclined to believe it. Only a lovely woman could raise three strong, kind sons.
“How do you normally wear your makeup?” Danielle asks, opening a large case that reminds me of a tackle box.
“I don’t wear makeup,” I reply. I never really saw the need for it; besides I have sensitive skin and I didn’t know what makeup to actually wear to minimize breakouts so I avoided it all together. Looking in the mirror, I admire the hairstyle Danielle created. It’s up in a fifties updo. It’s super curly and I love it. It’s like someone has a direct line to my Pinterest boards.
“We’ll keep it light then,” Juliet says as she gets to work on my face. When she’s done, yet again I don’t recognize myself.
I put on some white lace panties and a tiny bra that barely contains the girls. In the bedroom, Amani helps me into the dress, and I slide into a pair of white heels. To say that I am not accustomed to heels would be an understatement. I am more at home in a pair of Nikes, but somehow, I manage to make it to the chapel. My father is waiting to walk me down the aisle.
Omar kisses me as soon as I reach him. I open my mouth
and he deepens the kiss, owning me. The archbishop chuckles before beginning the service. It only takes a few minutes but then I am his wife and his queen. My sheik takes my hand and we walk down the aisle to applause from a lot of people I don’t know. I see my mom’s face in the crowd, and she gives me the biggest smile.
This is it. This is the rest of my life and I can’t wait for what happens next.
Epilogue
Omar
One Year Later
Our one-year anniversary is being spent in the hospital as she brings our son into the world. I was surprised we didn’t get pregnant right away, but we did as soon as the time was right. She screams in agony as she makes her final push, but she has never looked more beautiful. Like a warrior. I watch as she sags in relief when his cries echo in the room.
“You did it, baby,” I say, kissing her. “I love you,” I murmur before stepping back. She’s released the death grip she had on my hand and her breathing has slowed back down. It’s amazing what a woman can do to bring their child into the world.
“I want to hold him,” she demands. Her midwife, Renata, chuckles, but hands him over to her gently.
“You look good holding him,” I tell her looking down at my whole world. His little head is on her bare chest. She whispers promises to him and all I can do is look on in awe.
“It felt like it took forever for him to actually get here, but now that he is, I know the time will pass quickly.”
“I’ve heard that as well,” I say, wishing it weren’t true.
“What shall we call him?” she asks, looking up at me. We waited to choose a name because she wanted to meet him first.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Rasul, after your father.”
“He’ll make a fine Rasul. He is the future of this country. We are raising a little Sheik.”
“I know. I couldn’t be prouder. He has an excellent example, my love.”
“I vow to teach him everything I know. I’ll teach our daughters too.”
“I know, husband. I know.”
We spend another few days in the hospital before returning to the palace. I thank God every single day that I was in Athens at the same time she was. He put her in my path, and I took full advantage of that. We were destined to be together, come hell or high water. I knew she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her and now that she’s mine I’ll never let her go. I often think back on our wedding day. She was beyond beautiful as she walked to me. She was positively glowing with confidence. I couldn’t wait for the ceremony to begin. I kissed her as soon as she took my hands. In that moment I knew death was going to be the only way out of this for either one of us. I find myself praying that it never does, but when it does, I pray I go first because I know I can’t live without her.
Every day with her has been better than the last and I am thankful she took a chance with a stranger. Finding her took forever but once I did loving her was the easy part. She’s my soulmate, my match, my queen in every way.
The future didn’t hold much promise until her. My gorgeous, curvy Easter bride has proven to me that love exists, and it comes swiftly. I only had to do a little stalking to make her mine.
Epilogue
Heather
Ten Years Later
All this time and I love him more than I did the first time I saw him. Five kids later, we still find time just for ourselves. With my sisters and their families in the palace, there is always someone available to watch the kids so we can sneak off. This is one of those times. We are taking the weekend and visiting Greece where Omar’s obsession with me began only this time I am already his. We walk hand in hand down the streets of Athens back to our hotel after dinner. The guards are a respectful distance behind us, but close enough if anything happens.
“My feet are killing me,” I say laughing. I had a little too much Ouzo at dinner and I’ll admit that I am drunk. He hides it well, but he is too. Now that I now he’s here to protect me, I allow myself to drink every once in a while. Internally, I giggle at the thought of my big strong man being taken down by one little glass of the Ouzo.
“We’ll be there soon, wife,” he replies, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“I never should have worn these heels.” Thankfully, we are only about two doors down from the hotel.
As soon as we are safely in our room, I kick the offending shoes away and lie down on the bed still in my dress. Omar takes my feet in his hands and rubs them. Moaning, I relish in the feel of his strong hands.
“Let’s get you out of that dress, Heather,” he says, helping me back onto my feet.
“Mmm, sounds good,” I moan as he unzips my dress. It pools at my feet. He takes my bra off and kneels in front of me, pulling my panties down my legs. I step out of them and the dress before falling backwards onto the bed when he lightly pushes me. Giggling, I bounce once before settling. I watch with rapt attention as he strips slowly. I lick my lips when his cock bounces free and hits his belly. Man, I never get tired of how big he is or how skilled he is.
“On your knees, my queen. Show me that ass,” he growls. I scramble to do his bidding. When I am in position, I shake my ass for him, getting him all riled up. Standing behind me, he slaps my right cheek before doing the same to the left. I moan as his hand comes down on my ass over and over. I know from experience how red it's going to be and that turns me on even more.
“Fuck me, my Sheik. Give me another baby,” I demand arching my back. I know that I can come just from getting spanked by him, but I want his cock. He moves closer behind me, his cock pushing at my pussy hole. He wraps my long hair around his fist, pulling my head back.
“You want to be bred tonight?” I try to nod, but he pulls my hair harder and I moan instead. “Answer me,” he demands.
“Yes. Breed me. Fill my pussy with your seed until you plant a baby in my belly,” I growl. His abs move over my now sensitive ass and I gasp. I am at his mercy until he finally reaches between us, grabs his cock, and slides into me slowly. He releases my hair and uses that hand to grip my hip.
So. Fucking. Slowly.
Too Fucking slowly. I push back on him, but that just earns me another smack on the ass.
“God, you are so fucking tight, wife. This pussy was meant for just my cock.”
“I know,” I whine, needing him to move. He knows what that whine means because he uses that opportunity to pull out and slam back in. Over and over he fucks into me. I am almost there. Ready to come for him when he reaches around the front of my body and pinches my clit. “Omar!” I scream letting my orgasm wash over me. He fucks into me a few more times before I feel him release deep inside of me.
“Good girl,” he says leaning down and kissing my shoulder. I turn my head so that he can take my lips, which he does.
This life he’s given me has been more than I ever thought possible. All because he saw me and wanted me. He made me love him in seconds and I thank God every day that he’s the man for me.
The only man for me.
My everything.
My husband.
My king.
My Sheik.
Other Books In the Hoppily Ever After Series
Book One:
Sin, Salvation, and Serenity (Hoppily Ever After Book 1) By Barbara Campbell
Book Two:
Hop Stuff (Hoppily Ever After Book 2) by Shaw Hart
Book Three:
His Easter Bride (Hoppily Ever After Book 3) by M.K. Moore (This book)
Acknowledgments
I want to thank my husband, Daryl. You are so supportive of my dreams and I love you so fucking much for like ever.
Thank you, Mama, for all of your support! I love you.
Karlee, thank you for being a friend. #GoldenGirls reference. But seriously, thank you!!!! Love you .6 times!!! Thank you for you the cover and the teasers! Every single one you make is prettier than the last!
Elisa, thank you for all of your support! I am so glad to have met you!!
JENNY!!! You are the best damn alpha reader a girl could have!
To all of my readers, you guys are the ones that make this possible! Thank you for reading me and taking the time to review. You don’t know how much seeing your words of encouragement help me when I am struggling!
Love Always,
MK
Other books by MK Moore
To Love Series
-Brother in Law to Love
-Heel to Love
-Wife to Love
425 Madison Series Multi-Author Series
-Let Me Love You (Book 2)
-Let Me Stay (Book 17)
The Ice Cream Shop Multi-Author Series
-Love & Candy Canes (Book 29)
Royally Yours
-A Princess for Hans
Love In Norlyn
-Madame President
Regret, South Dakota
-My Aubree
-Her Forever
-My Sheriff
Owned
-Christmas Auction
-So Good
-Xander’s Treat
-One Night Wasn’t Enough
