by Marian Tee
What are your tips for blowjobs?
Chapter Eight
Ten minutes later, and we were back inside the car, the sheikh calmly taking the wheel while I struggled to get my panic under control.
"Nervous, habibti?"
The sly tone of his voice made my hackles rise, and I glared at him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"If you are so anxious that it brings you to tears, I'd like it even better."
"Well, too bad for you, but I'm not nervous at all—-"
"There is no need to lie," the sheikh chided. "It's entirely natural for someone like you to be nervous."
I couldn't help bristling at his words. "What do you mean someone like me?"
"Someone who's innocent and pure..."
Oh, this fucking jerk. Most other girls would probably love being described in such terms, but this asshole knew I'd hate it, and that was the only reason he was using those words in the first place.
"You're probably worried about the usual things."
"Like I might accidentally bite your dick off? Is that the usual thing with jerks like you?"
But the sheikh went on as if he hadn't heard a single word I said. "No doubt, you've already guessed how well-endowed I am, and you're worried if your mouth can take all of me in—-"
"Oh, fuck you." But even I knew his words were nothing but a ploy to make me relax, and it worked, too, as the tightness in my chest eased just a bit, and my lips actually curved just enough to form the slightest of smiles.
"Perhaps you'd like some instructions to help you get started?"
"Shut up."
"You're sure?"
No.
Yes.
Oh, fuck my pride.
"Okay, fine," I heard myself say grudgingly. "Instruct away."
The sheikh laughed, and I almost squirmed in my seat as the low, sexy sound rippled down my spine like a teasing caress.
"What do you think is Step One?"
"Knock you out," I quipped right away, "and lie about giving you a blowjob while you were unconscious."
But the sheikh only smirked. "You only wish you wanted to do that, but you do not. Your eyes always give you away, and you know what they are telling me right now?"
"Whatever it is, you're mistaken—-"
"It's telling me you're as nervous as you're excited at the prospect of sucking my dick."
"Bullshit," I growled even as I could feel the heated state of my cheeks betray the truth. How the fuck was this guy so good at turning me on? I used to think a man talking dirty to me would be disgusting, but when it was this guy doing it...when it was this guy talking about me sucking his dick...
A gasp escaped me when long, hard fingers suddenly curled around my wrist, and I gasped again as the sheikh yanked it towards his crotch.
"We'll start now, habibti."
The traffic lights turned green as he spoke, and the sheikh released his hold. I watched him reach for the shift stick as his gaze swung back to the road, and throughout it, I felt something grow longer, harder, and bigger under my hand.
I slowly turned my gaze to his crotch and caught my breath at the way the bulge under my hand just kept swelling and swelling and swelling in size.
Gaaaaah.
It just kept growing, dammit.
Maybe the sheikh was right, after all?
Maybe I should be worried about how I was going to fit all of it inside my mouth.
"Ready for Step Two?"
The sheikh's mocking tone had me gnashing my teeth, and when I felt him turning to look at me, I forced my fingers to move, not wanting him to think that the size of his cock had left me feeling overwhelmed.
Even if I was.
It was a bit of a struggle to unzip his pants, with the way it was stretched so tautly against the swollen size of his dick, and the fact that I couldn't keep my fingers from trembling just made things worse.
When I was finally able to push his briefs to the side, I couldn't help swallowing hard as my fingers eventually came into contact with the steely silken feel of his cock. It was nothing like I imagined. Even with all the veined ridges, it was still softer than I thought it could be, but at the same time, so much harder as well, and I couldn't help gulping anew as I thought about this enormous piece of meat driving inside my pussy.
I tried eyeballing its length but found myself stop counting at eight inches. Some things you're better off not knowing, especially if you don't think your throat is long enough. I mean, like seriously. I feel like I'd have to be a swan—-
The sheikh suddenly fisted my hair. "You seem to need a little push, habibti."
Before I could even protest, he was already slowly pushing my head down.
Fuck!
I instinctively tried to struggle and fight back, but his grip was too strong, and the distance between my mouth and the head of his dick started shrinking fast.
"Damn you—-"
"Did you think I'd be gentle?" the sheikh taunted.
I could no longer answer, my lips bumping against the swollen and engorged tip of his erection—-
Oh my God!
My panties were suddenly soaking wet, a scorching-hot flush of desire coming out of nowhere the moment my mouth came into contact with the faintly salty knob of his dick.
"You are not the kind of woman who likes it soft and gentle, habibti."
I was dying to argue with him, but with the sheikh increasing the downward pressure of his hold, I found myself helplessly opening my mouth instead, and the first inches of his cock pushed past my lips.
Aaaaah.
My lips stretched wider. God. I felt so fucking stuffed already, and this was just the head, dammit.
"Ready for more?"
Fuck you. But even as my indignant mind couldn't help answering this way, my body was betraying me at the same time, with the way my pussy actually started quivering hard as the sheikh started pushing my head farther down.
Another inch of his dick slipped inside my mouth, followed quickly by another and another and another, just one after another dammit, that I started to choke, and the sound actually had the asshole laughing even as his grip on my hair eased.
I lifted my head right away, tears stinging my eyes, and as soon as I had gulped enough oxygen back into my lungs, I glared up at him and spat out, "Asshole!"
But the sheikh's gaze simply glinted back at me. "Ready to put that mouth to work again?"
"You—-"
And that was it. I only managed to get one word out before the sheikh once again tightened his grip on my hair and pushed my head down. I tried to fight him off, but it was futile. His arousal jutted against my lips, hard enough that it was almost as if his cock was slapping my mouth, and even as rage flared inside of me, there was something else.
Oh God, he was right.
What the hell was wrong with me that my body was actually getting hotter and wetter at the punishing brutality of his actions?
Just a third of his cock was inside of my mouth, and already I could feel myself start to choke.
"Breathe through your nose," the sheikh commanded, and even as the rebellious part of me bristled against being ordered around, I still found myself obeying him. It took a while to find my rhythm, but eventually I could feel my throat relaxing, and as my lips parted wider, more of his dick slipped in.
He was halfway in now, and before I even realized what I was doing, my tongue had already started exploring on its own as it slowly licked the side of his dick. Soon, I found myself circling the head of his erection with my tongue, and my insides quivered when I heard the sheikh release a rasping sound.
"Yes."
His voice was rough with desire, and the sound had more moisture flowing out to coat the throbbing folds of my cunt.
"Suck it now, habibti."
A whimper escaped me at the command, but I was helpless once again, my body seemingly recognizing him as its master. I started to suck, tentatively at first, and when the sheikh told me to start stroking
him and squeezing his balls, I didn't even think twice.
It was an addiction by now, this inexplicable need to follow his orders and pleasure him, and my head started to bob up and down - fast - as I found myself actually eagerly sucking on his dick.
A small part of me wondered if there were other people looking at us. His sports car was a lot lower than most other vehicles on the road, and although his windows were tinted, shadowy outlines could still be seen from the inside.
Certainly, if someone looked close enough, they'd know right away what I was doing.
They'd know the girl next to the sheikh was pleasuring him with her mouth.
And that girl, oh God...
That girl was me.
The thought had me shuddering, and a rush of madness seemed to take over me. All of a sudden, I was sucking harder at his dick, my fingers moving faster as I stroked his length, and when I heard the sheikh curse...
My eyes squeezed shut, a part of me instinctively recognizing what would come next—-
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
And I was right.
The sheikh came with a rough growl, his dick swelling and twitching hard as it spurted out a huge load of cum inside my mouth, and the thick, creamy liquid shot down my throat so fast that I barely tasted it.
Oh God.
The sheikh gripped my head tightly as his hips jerked up, and my throat started working overtime as his dick kept pumping out load after fucking load. By the time I felt his grip ease, I was breathless and half-dizzy with desire even though I was the one who had pleasured him and not the other way around.
His fingers cupped my chin, and it didn't even occur to me to resist. I let him tip my face up, and as our gazes met, I caught my breath at what I saw.
A lightning-quick flash of emotion that glittered in his dark, smoldering eyes, appearing and disappearing so quickly that I could be forgiven for thinking I had only imagined it.
But I hadn't.
I swear to God, would bet my fucking life I hadn't imagined it.
And what I saw—-
Oh God.
It was that little something called...love.
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Chapter Nine
There were only two penthouse apartments in the building, the sheikh had told me as we stepped inside the private lift. One was his, and the lone unit across it was mine. Decorated in an ombré of greys and subtle wood accents, the apartment had high ceilings, multiple balconies, and more bedrooms than I knew what to do with. It was also enormous as hell, with its antechamber alone about five times larger than my dorm room.
The house tour had taken less than half an hour, and after that the sheikh had briefly excused himself, saying he had business calls to make. You can keep your maidenhead for three nights as agreed, the sheikh had mockingly said in parting. But if you feel you are unable to wait that long to have my cock inside of you, remember that I am only next door...
I had told him to fuck off, natch, but him being a cocky piece of sheikh, he had only smirked and strolled off like he knew I was totally unable to stop staring at his lean, hard butt.
Which had also been true, unfortunately, and even though it was the next day now, the memory of how he had literally caught me doing it, when the sheikh suddenly glanced at me over one muscular shoulder...
My body shook with a shudder of self-disgust, and I angrily ran my hairbrush through my still-wet locks as I glared at my reflection on the vanity mirror.
You are in deep, deep shit, Teller, and you'll just sink deeper in poop if you don't find a way to sort yourself out!
It was just crazy mortifying, every time I let myself think of how I had actually convinced myself that I had seen love in the sinful darkness of the sheikh's gaze.
He was a piece of sheikh, dammit, and assholes like him didn't do love!
My lapse of judgment still had me smarting as I changed into my usual shirt and jeans and started stuffing books into my backpack. Green Lit Moving Company, whoever they were, had done an awesome job packing and unpacking my things. Even though this apartment was X number of times larger than my place, they had somehow managed to store everything in such a way that I hadn't any problems finding which cabinet or drawer stored which.
After closing the bedroom door behind me, I had only taken a few steps into the living room when I stopped dead in my tracks, stunned to see the sheikh already lounging by the kitchen island.
"Good morning, Ms. Teller."
"Good morning," I said warily, his smiling courteousness putting me on guard right away.
"Did you have any wet dreams of me last night?"
Knew it.
Once an asshole, always an asshole, and I simply shot him a look. Drop dead, will you?
The sheikh threw his dark head back with a laugh. "I was slightly concerned you'd act coy and shy this morning," he drawled, "but I'm immensely pleased to be wrong."
"That's more Dahlia's thing than mine," I retorted even though in truth, there was a part of me that had immediately started tingling at the sight of him. I mean, seriously, he was just too fucking hot to be real. He made descriptions like 'tall, dark, and handsome' so ridiculously inadequate, with every tanned, muscular inch of him seemingly sculpted to enslave a woman's senses.
"Why are you here, anyway?" I finally made myself ask. "I thought we had an agreement."
"And the agreement still stands," he acknowledged. "I'm here to enjoy breakfast with you."
I could only grunt, thinking that his words sounded a little too plausible. Once an asshole, always an asshole, right?
When I reached the kitchen island, I was about to lift myself up on one of the bar stools when something caught my eye.
Those bagels...
My mouth immediately started watering.
They were from my favorite deli, and—-
Wait a minute.
How did he know...
My head shot up, and the sheikh, seeing the suspicion in my gaze, said easily, "I told you, have I not? My security team was quite thorough in compiling their report about you."
"Stalker."
But the sheikh only smiled and patted his lap. "Come and sit."
My lip curled. "You wish—-"
Shit!
The sheikh's reflexes were just too damn fast, and the next thing I knew I was already seated on his lap, and his fingers were gripping my hair hard. Not enough to hurt, but tight enough for there to be no possible escape without hurting myself.
"We had an agreement—-"
"There is nothing to be worried about," the sheikh crooned. "All I want is a little kiss—-"
"I don't want—-"
"Sssh." He pulled my head farther back, and I fought to keep still, unwilling to show any kind of weakness. But then I felt his lips slowly trail down my neck, and memories flashed in my mind, almost as if they were taunting me to remember how good it felt, to have his mouth sucking on my pulse...
I felt the feather-soft slide of his tongue as he licked the side of my neck, and my fists clenched on my lap.
"You remember, don't you?" the sheikh whispered. "How it felt..."
Yes, yes, yes.
I couldn't say the words out loud, but oh God, I did remember, and I wanted to feel it again. So, so badly that just the thought of it was making me feel like I was burning up—-
Aaaaaah.
His mouth latched on to my neck without warning, and oh God, this time there was nothing slow, gentle, or gradual about it. He simply started sucking hard, so damn hard that I could no longer keep myself from crying out.
&
nbsp; I felt his hands reach for mine, forcing them to unclench so that our fingers could twine with each other, and somehow, holding on to him, feeling his fingers tightly grip mine, just made things more punishingly sweet, and I couldn't help arching my neck back to give him more access.
How the fuck was this possible, that with just his mouth on my neck, he nearly had me delirious with pleasure, and I knew I was just one stroke away from cumming?
And when I felt a bulge starting to grow under my ass...
Oh God.
I tried to keep still, but it was impossible.
The hard, throbbing length of it was impossible to resist, and I slowly found myself grinding my ass against it—-
I heard the sheikh growl as his cock found its sweet spot, thrusting forward and back between the cheeks of my denim-clad ass, and something inside of me started spiraling out of control. My mind shut down, and lust took over as I started rubbing myself harder and faster against him while his mouth on my neck continued to work its hungry magic.
Any second now, oh God, any second now, and fuuuuuuuuuuuuck...
I convulsed in his arms, my eyes squeezing shut in helpless surrender as wetness gushed out of me.
So good.
Why was it so good with this jerk?
Why?
But the answers eluded me, and as the shudders started fading, I heard the sheikh say, "Keep these panties on. I want you to stay wet and thinking of me for the rest of the day."
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Chapter Ten
This was insane. Just fucking insane. I did my best to concentrate on Professor L.'s lecture, but it was impossible. The words she had written on the board might as well be in Kanji, and everything she was saying out loud might as well be in Kiswashili.
