“Take me,” she whispered, reaching back between her legs and running her fingers along his pipe of a cock, slowly massaging his balls as he muttered in Arabic and finally drew back on his haunches, lining his cockhead up with her slit that felt wide as a gaping mouth. “Oh, God, Hakeem! Take me!”
“Iidha qumt bitarjamat hdha, sa'ursil lak ktabana mjanyana,” he growled, sitting back with his legs beneath him so his cock stuck straight up in the air like a pole, so hard, so long, so goddamn thick that Liv swallowed hard when she realized all of that was about to go into her, deep into her, all the way deep. “Here. Sit back as I enter you.”
She felt him grab the sides of her buttocks and pull her back onto his cock while she groaned deep, her eyes rolling up in her head as she felt him slide into her, her weight making the entry feel sublime. She sat there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of being stretched like she’d never been stretched, penetrated to a depth she didn’t think was possible. Slowly she leaned against his hard, massive body, groaning again as she felt his hands reach around and grasp her breasts, holding her securely and gently biting her neck as he started to bounce her on his cock.
She was as stretched as she’d ever been, and her mouth stayed open all the while, a silent scream frozen on her lips as he raised and lowered her onto his ramrod-straight pole, taking her deep and hard, grunting in her ear, muttering in Arabic, until finally he pushed her down face-first again, rammed his cock back into her, and with a bellow shot his load into her warm depths.
14
Hakeem felt his balls seize up as he came, and the orgasm was monstrous, his body racked with ecstasy through and through as he pumped his semen into her. He could feel her pussy clench around his shaft, her buttocks tighten as he gripped her sides so hard he could see the red claw-marks made by his fingers. She milked his cock as he came, and he could feel her coming with him, silent even though her mouth was wide open like she was screaming in some other world.
He collapsed on her when he was done, his cock still deep inside her from behind, his mouth pressed against the back of her neck, tongue hanging out like a beast taken to its limit.
“Ya Allah, what was that?” he muttered, grinning as he pushed aside her hair and kissed her neck.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I’d say do it again, but I don’t know if my body can take it so soon.” She paused and then half-turned, her eyebrow raised. “Or if your body can give it again so soon.”
“Oh, I can give it again, woman,” he snarled mischievously, running his palms down her sides, feeling her shudder as he traced the outline of her strong hourglass shape, her naked curves that were already making his throbbing cock start to fill out again. But he could not deny that he’d blown a massive load into her, and so he chuckled as he felt his cock slowly slide out of her. “All right. Perhaps I need a few minutes to recover. That was one hell of a ride.” He smiled as he felt her giggle. “Perhaps this demon thing is not so bad, yes?”
He felt her stiffen at his words, and then the Sheikh remembered what had been made clear to him the moment he’d pushed himself into her, tasted her femininity, drunk her nectar: That the demon within him wasn’t resisting the meeting with her. It welcomed it. It wanted it. He’d been led to her by his demon, not by his desire to rid himself of it.
“Olivia,” he said, rolling off her and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as his face twisted into a deep frown. “There is something I need to tell you. Something I realized when I kissed you, when I took you, when I—”
“I know,” she answered without hesitation, turning on her side, her breasts looking big and beautiful, her skin glowing in the light of the early night. “It was your demon that led you here. And I know why.”
The Sheikh blinked, turning on his side so he faced her. They lay naked on the floor, her torn panties still hanging from one ankle, bra pushed up over her boobs. “Go on,” he said, touching her face and looking into her eyes like he’d known her a thousand years.
She blinked and glanced down, shaking her head and blinking again. “Not yet. I felt something, and I need to think it through. I don’t know if I’m imagining it or if it’s real.” She paused and took a breath. “If any of it’s real. If it’s ever been real.”
Hakeem waited in silence as she looked at him. He could tell she wasn’t sure what to tell him and what to keep to herself, if she could trust him with whatever she’d seen, whatever she’d felt, whatever she believed had brought them together. He used the silence to examine himself, and he felt a chill when he realized that he could no longer sense that separation between himself and what he believed lived within him, had lived within him ever since his mother had put it there when he was a child with an undiagnosable ailment and then again when he was a young teenager facing the prospect of becoming Sheikh and supreme ruler of Ramaan as his father lay close to death in a diabetic coma.
“Demons are not evil, my son,” she’d told him that day. “They are like little gods—gods that stay with you and give you strength and power, intuition and foresight. The ancient Greeks believed every man was born with a personal demon that stayed with him always, you know.”
“We are Arabs, not Greeks,” the young Sheikh-to-be had replied. “I thought there was only one God. Allah is that God and Mohammed is His prophet. How can there be little gods that stay with each man?”
“Think of them as angels if that makes you feel better,” his mother had said, opening up a book and beginning to recite lines in a language unfamiliar to Hakeem. He watched as she drew a symbol on a piece of paper and pushed it over to her son. “In time you will understand that angels and demons are the same. One man’s angel is another’s demon. It is a matter of perspective, context, point of view. And when you become Sheikh, playing in the realm of world politics, you will see that perspective is everything. Think of the biggest example, Hakeem: The United States of America. So many Islamic nations call America the Great Satan, the manifestation of the Shaitaan itself! But of course America has brought about sweeping positive changes across the world over the past century, has it not? Their soldiers died on the battlefields of Europe, Africa, and Asia to defeat the Nazis and the Japanese in World War II! If they truly were a nation in the service of Satan, would they not have joined forces with the Nazis to wipe out the Jews? At the same time, America has done things that have resulted in pain and suffering for many Arab nations. So obviously there is no black and white in the world, no clear difference between an angel and a demon. The only thing that matters in this world is power, and this will give you power, my son. Here. Draw this symbol six times and recite the words I speak. Come. Trust me. I am your mother, Hakeem. I want what is best for you, what is best for our kingdom, what is best for the world. You would have died as a child if not for this so-called demon. Now embrace it once again.”
Hakeem blinked as that symbol flashed before his eyes, and he frowned and blinked again, not sure if what he was seeing was truth or illusion.
“What is that?” he said, the chill of disbelief invading his body as he saw the thin silver chain hanging around Liv’s neck. He hadn’t noticed it before, because it must have been tucked beneath her top. “Where did you get it?”
Liv frowned as she glanced down at the chain and pendant as if she was noticing it for the first time. “This? I’ve only had it a couple of years. It was a gift.”
“From whom?” the Sheikh said, fingering the pendant. It looked like that symbol his mother had asked him to trace out all those years ago, but he could not be sure. It was so long ago, and he knew full well how the imagination could play tricks with memory.
“What does it matter? It’s just a trinket.”
The Sheikh took a breath as he ran his fingers through his thick black hair. The house. The way they’d met. This feeling like she and he were linked by something that lived within them, like they’d known each other for a thousand years. “Y
our parents,” he said suddenly.
“No,” said Liv, still looking at the pendant. “It wasn’t them. I got this from—”
“No, not that. What you were saying earlier about your parents, when you told me about the woman who showed up and made an appointment for an exorcism.”
“What about it?”
“You’d never mentioned that your parents performed exorcisms.”
Liv took a breath, her eyes moving to the ceiling for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
“So when you said that, I didn’t find it surprising or curious at all. It was almost like . . . like I already knew that! How is that possible?”
Liv shrugged again, but the Sheikh felt her tense up against his hard body. “Well, I dunno. Didn’t I mention it before that? I’m sure I did.”
“You did not,” said Hakeem, shaking his head vigorously. “Ya Allah, she was right!”
“Who?”
“My mother! When she put it in me, she told me it would give me powers. Of course, I did not believe any of it. It seemed like just another one of a hundred rituals I had to sit through as a child growing up in a religion-oriented environment. And as I grew older and found myself seduced by the promise of science and technology, the potential of pharmaceuticals and medical breakthroughs to expand and extend human potential, I started to believe . . .”
“Believe what? You’re not making any sense,” Liv said, running her fingers down along the rippling muscles of his hard stomach, slowly gripping his cock as he felt himself harden under her touch. “This is what makes sense, Hakeem,” she murmured, kissing his chest as she slowly tightened her grip on his erection. “This is all the sense we need right now.”
The Sheikh felt the energy change around them, within them, and he gasped as he thought he saw movement out the corner of his eyes. A dark swirl, it seemed like—but when he turned in that direction there was nothing.
Of course there was nothing! All of it was imagination! His mother had done a number on him when he was a child, and he was still paying the price, was he not? The obsession with science, the faith in technology, the trust in pharmaceuticals . . . all of it was just a way of expelling what his mother had put into him, yes?
Because what she’d put into him was not some demon from the pages of mythology but just beliefs. Beliefs from a world that was no longer relevant. There is no demon, Hakeem told himself as he felt his body relax. He watched in satisfaction as Liv kissed his flat stomach, slowly moving her lips closer to his cock that was now full hard and throbbing in her hand.
No, there is no demon. There never was a demon.
Or perhaps she is the demon, came the thought as a grin broke on his face just as Liv glanced up at him and then back at the head of his cock. He nodded down at her, smiled wide, and then gripped her by the back of her neck and moved her down on him.
He arched his neck back and groaned in ecstasy as he felt her warm lips close around his heavy shaft. The pleasure surged in him, and he closed his eyes even as he swore he caught a glimpse of that black swirl in the corner of his vision. But he could not open his eyes, and now nothing mattered except the feeling of her mouth on his cock, the pleasure she was giving him, the pleasure he was taking from her.
He could feel her gag as he tightened his grip on the back of her head, but the Sheikh gritted his teeth and pumped his hips up as he drove up into her. Her saliva was pouring down his shaft, and Hakeem felt a manic surge of energy rip through him as he felt her struggle and breathe heavy through his nose. She was clawing at his hand, but he would not let go, thrusting upwards into her mouth as he held her head down and prepared for his climax.
Then suddenly he felt pain shooting through him as she bit down on his cock, and he roared as his eyes opened wide, his hands flying back from Liv’s hair.
“Ya Allah!” he roared, pushing her away and going up on his knees as Liv jumped back away from him, a wild grin on her face, her eyes as wide as his, her mouth twisted in a snarl, blood trickling down over her full lips. “Are you insane?!”
“Let me finish,” she snarled, going down on all fours and crawling towards him like an animal. “I need more. Let me finish.”
15
“You are finished,” he shouted, pushing her head away as she stared at him. “We are both finished!”
Liv stared at the teeth marks on the Sheikh’s cock, tasted the metallic tartness of the blood on her tongue. It took a moment to realize what she’d done, and she almost screamed in shock as she pulled back away from him and began to sob.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered through heaving gasps as the tears rolled down her round cheeks. “This isn’t real. This can’t be happening. How can it be happening now, after all these years?”
“Nothing is happening,” the Sheikh said firmly, grimacing as he grabbed his pants and pulled out a black silk handkerchief. He grunted as he dabbed the blood from his cock. Then he shrugged and forced a smile. “Just a scratch. You did not sink your teeth into me. Do not worry, you have not turned into a bloodthirsty vampire. Not yet, at least.”
Liv stood and walked to the kitchen, turning on the faucet and letting the water run for a while before rinsing out her mouth and then spitting. She stared in silence as the water made its way down the drain, frowning as it occurred to her that something was strange about what she was seeing.
“Hakeem,” she said slowly as a chill ran up her naked back. “Look at this and tell me it’s my imagination.”
The Sheikh was beside her in a moment. He’d produced a blanket out of somewhere, and he draped it over her shoulders. It was smooth, brushed cotton, just warm enough for the time of year. Liv smiled as she felt the warmth flow through her even as the Sheikh’s large body pressed against hers from behind. It didn’t seem real that she’d just bitten his goddamn cock, did it? No, it didn’t. And neither did this.
“You’re the scientist here,” she said slowly, pointing with her head toward the water still flowing from the kitchen faucet. “So tell me, does that look strange to you?”
The Sheikh frowned as he looked into the sink. Liv could feel him breathing against her, and then she sensed his breath catch as the realization hit.
“Ya Allah,” he muttered. “The water . . . it is circling the drain in a counter-clockwise direction. That should not happen. In the Northern Hemisphere the forces of the Earth’s rotation causes water to spin clockwise. This is unnatural. Unreal. It is . . .”
“Unholy,” Liv said softly. “That’s what it is. Goddamn unholy.”
The Sheikh snorted, but Liv could feel the tension in his body as he stood behind her. She glanced up at the window behind the kitchen sink. It was dark outside and she could see the two of them clearly reflected in the glass. She stared for moment, then glanced back at the faucet. But as she did it she swore she saw movement in the mirror. Movement behind the two of them.
Liv turned in panic, blinking as she scanned the room. Spiders? Demons? Bats? Snakes?
Nothing.
Just her imagination.
“This isn’t our imagination, is it?” she said, turning back to the water. “Oh, shit! What. The. Hell.”
The Sheikh had turned around when Liv had turned, and now he turned back and muttered in surprise as well. Sure enough, the water was now circling the drain in a clockwise turn. Had they imagined it?
“Where are your infrared cameras when we need them?” she said, trying to smile as the two of them stared at the water circling the drain like it was supposed to.
“I do not need a camera to tell me that what we just witnessed was scientifically impossible,” said the Sheikh. “I saw what I saw. The water was undoubtedly circling the drain counter-clockwise. Now it has reversed its spin. That is simply impossible.”
“I thought you said science would explain everything about everything,” Liv said.
&
nbsp; The Sheikh thought for a moment. “It is possible we were hallucinating. Perhaps there is a gas leak or something.”
Liv snorted, her eyes going wide as she turned to the Sheikh. “That’s your explanation?! A gas leak? I don’t smell anything. The burners on the stove are off. I don’t feel lightheaded. Do you?”
The Sheikh grinned, glancing down at his cock and shrugging. “Just from blood loss.”
Liv went red, her hands going up to her face when she thought back to that insane moment where they’d both lost control. “Well, you were choking me,” she said. “I had no other option.”
Hakeem laughed, his hand sliding beneath the blanket and caressing her rump. “Fair enough. I lost myself back there for a moment as well. We shall call it even for now.”
“For now,” Liv conceded, smiling as she felt his big hand slide between her crack from behind. It was so casual, familiar almost, and she couldn’t tell if she loved it or was terrified by how it made her feel, the depth of passion she could sense stirring beneath the surface . . . along with something else.
She took a breath, reaching out and turning off the water. Then she waited a moment and turned it back on. Everything was normal. Had they actually seen what they’d seen? Maybe they had been hallucinating. She’d heard stories from her parents about water spinning counter-clockwise down the drain in the presence of demonic activity. Yes, the Sheikh said he saw it too, and he’d been as shocked as she was. But group hallucinations were by no means unprecedented, and certainly the environment wasn’t helping.
“We should get out of this house,” Liv said, and the moment she said it the lights in the room flickered.
The Sheikh looked up at the light fixture in the middle of the room. “Looks like our demons would like us to stay.”
“OK, this is insane,” Liv said, not sure if she was excited or out of her mind with fear. “All those years I wasn’t sure if my parents were a couple of religious nutcases humoring a bunch of crazies with that demon possession and exorcism stuff. But . . .”
Haunted for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 15) Page 7
