The actual private ceremony was to be held at his family’s estate about an hour from Dubai, but the rehearsal dinner was set to happen out on one of his man-made islands. I was kind of excited about the whole thing now that I’d completely given into the fact I now belonged to the Arabian Prince I adored. I was going to be a Queen and that thought continued to bring an unforced smile to my lips.
“What are you smiling about? Out here, alone and smiling? Do tell me princess.” Omar asked as he joined me by the pool, my favorite place to sit.
“Oh I don’t know. Could be the fact I’m getting married to the greatest man ever!”
“Ahhh, is that so? Tell me more of this man you speak of.” Omar chided.
“Well, he is incredibly handsome. His skin shines as if he is an immortal being.”
Omar failed at hiding his grin, “Indeed, he sounds interesting. Tell me more.”
I batted my lashes and rested my chin on bent elbows against the table, “He is a prince, soon to be a King of an empire. He is brilliant too. The smartest man I’ve ever met. Did I mention, he is a god in the bedroom?”
“Ahhh, no you did not. Tell me how he pleases you.”
My cheeks burned as I pictured some of our joined exploits. “He um, he pleases me. He makes me feel more alive than I ever imagined possible.” Omar lifted his brows and made a motion with his hand that I continue. “He commands my body. He, gives me unimaginable pleasure.”
Omar leaned across the table in interest, “Tell me exactly what he does to you that you enjoy. Tell me tell me Anna what he does to you. I want to hear the words as they leave your lips.”
I blushed even deeper and readjusted my seat because of what my pussy was doing. “Um, he is dominant, and he takes what is his. I like that. When he makes a certain sound, my insides go totally haywire.”
He grinned and leaned back, looking pleased with himself. “I like it when you tell me all this, how you feel, how I affect your body. You are a good girl my sweet Anna.” I blinked at him and again moved my bottom in the chair. He noticed. “Are you ready for me?” He asked knowingly.
“I thought you’d never ask.” My tone was beyond breathy as I went to him and he pushed his chair back and away from the table. And released his already hard phallus from the captivity of his pants. I lost all thought and stared at him, at it—and within a second I was so ready I was worried I couldn’t remain standing. I pushed my knees to his and my legs trembled. He gripped my hips and pulled me up to straddle over his lap.
He held himself, as if presenting it, and with his other hand, he guided me over his lap. I pulled up my skirt and showed him my panty-less, bare sex. He made, that sound. My legs crumpled and I ended up sitting, straddling across his thighs.
He helped me and within the work of a moment I was hovering over his rigid arousal. Then he was in me as I sheathed all of him, sitting on him and settling myself against his lap. My head fell backwards as I moaned. His hand went to my hip and he held me fast. I rolled my hips just once and he bucked up and into me.
The air left my lungs in staccato rhythm as he began to buck up and into me.
I rolled my hips and undulated against him and over him. He was thickly inside me, owning my deepest recesses and I was already near climax. He startled me when he stood and held me to his groin, still deeply inside me, and he walked to the lounging area with the incredibly soft carpet. His hands dug into my flesh and as he walked, he slid in and out of me as I clung to him and squeezed my internal muscles as tightly around him as I could.
He kissed me and then startled me by pushing me up against one of the warm window panes.
“Hold onto me Goddess.”
I squealed, “Omar, my ass will leave prints on the window.”
He paused long enough to laugh at my little joke. “That’s why we have servants.”
“Just for the butt imprints from having sex against a window?” I asked sarcastically and he stole the rest of my words when he slammed himself into me a few times, making loud slapping sounds as our bodies collided.
I soon forgot all about the window and my bare body for any passing helicopter or plane to see. It wasn’t as if anyone else could see us, given how high up we were. He held me and showed off his incredible strength as he pumped me hard against a window in the tallest building in the world. I clung to him like a sloth on a branch and I took it all without a moment of fear. This was his way of taking me and being dominant without any of the inflictions he’d caused a month previous. This was him simply taking what was his, and I loved every second of it.
I screamed louder than I normally did. It must have been the position and his insistent, urgent need to be as deeply inside my body as possible. Or it was just that I wasn’t at all afraid and could finally fully let go again and take what he needed to dish out. Whatever it was, or maybe it was a combination of all those things, but I was now a total goner. I keened and struggled to keep my legs wrapped around his waist as a freight train of a climax shot up through my stomach and then straight out the top of my head.
He didn’t release when I did, but stayed hard inside me and then carried me to the lounge area and laid me back against that plushest of carpets. He looked down the line of my body and within a second he’d ripped open my tee shirt, freeing both my breasts that swayed from the motion of him ripping my tee shirt clean in half. My nipples puckered and lifted in response. He said in a guttural growl, “There, now you’re messed up properly.”
I did feel totally messed up too, “Properly satisfied?” I giggled.
“Ahhh, yes, properly so.” He narrowed his eyes and slid himself in out of my soaked sheath a few more times, reestablishing how hard he still was. “I’ve decided you may swear under these circumstances and only with me. Is that clear? I do like some of the words as they leave your sweet little mouth.”
I tried not to roll my eyes at his commanding attitude. “You like to defile me, don’t you?” I teased.
He guffawed then, and leaned back on his shins, dragging my body with his motion until I was awkwardly splayed down his thighs.
“Yes, I like that very much princess. I like to defile you, just for me though, just for me and never anyone else. You are mine, and never forget that.”
In the next instant, Omar picked me up, dragging my limp body up to his chest. He began thrusting his hips hard in this position, and I was already so close to more orgasms I didn’t fight it as one after another began to rattle up through me. He had one strong arm wrapped around my waist, stabilizing me and the other was digging into the soft skin of my bottom. He was owning me, taking what was his without apology. He was messing me up in the best of ways, and I enjoyed every second of it.
CHAPTER TEN
It was only a day before the rehearsal dinner and Omar’s family was arriving. I felt alive at a level I’d never comprehended as possible. I felt as if I was glowing from all the attention, and I had a new joy in being alive. I guess there is nothing like a near death experience to open one’s eyes to the wonderfulness of life.
His mother was a sweet woman who said very little. She did however seem to be watching me whenever we were in the same room. His father was another charismatic man, but I didn’t find him as compelling as Omar, although I sensed many similarities between the two men. I found Omar to be a more commanding presence, more self-assured perhaps.
His younger brothers were in their mid-twenties and both were as attractive as Omar, although again, both seemed immature in comparison. Zahir and Yasser were only a year apart in ages, and I found them both incredibly fun to look at. They were closer to my age than Omar was, but they were not nearly as mature or worldly as Omar.
His sister was the most regal woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. She seemed like a queen of old, perfectly capable of ruling an entire nation all by herself. Her name was Alath, which Omar later told me translated to, the lofty goddess, and I thought that seemed perfect for the woman I was afraid to approach. She put off the same domin
ant air as Omar did, and I wondered how she could ever let a man dominate her in the bedroom.
Alath was twenty nine, and even though Omar was slated to take over the crown when his father stepped down, I figured that Alath could have easily taken on that role.
I greeted them the best I could, but none were that interested in me. I hung back and simply followed the procession out to the far balcony on the side of the building we didn’t use as often. This area was built out and away from the structure and had a glass floor. It made me dizzy to be out there, but I joined them anyway and tried my hardest to not look down.
“Anna, here, next to me.” Omar commanded. I was relieved because he wanted me next to him on a couch with a small rug underneath it, so all I had to do was look at Omar and be near him.
The family was formal in their conversations and I was never addressed. All questions were targeted at Omar, who answered some truthfully, some not so much. Sometimes they talked in Arabic, sometimes in English. His brothers proceeded to get increasingly drunk and finally they left. His sister stayed and after the parents were finished with all the greetings and formalities of business, she addressed me directly.
It took a hard hand squeeze from Omar for me to realize I’d been asked a direct question. “Um, pardon me?”
Alath said in an irritated tone, “Anna, when will you learn our native tongue? Do you not feel that is necessary before you are to wed?”
I was kind of tongue tied, “Um, I do intend to learn it.”
“Good, I feel that is a mandatory part of your new position. Tell me, how did you feel after you found out that the infidels who’d taken you, were killed? Did that cloud your judgment of my brother?”
Without hesitation I glued my eyes to hers and stated, “I was glad. Satisfied that Omar was able to personally erase the ones that led that particular group. It made me love Omar even more.”
Her brows lifted in surprise and it was her that lowered her gaze first. Omar reassuringly held my hand just a tad tighter. “Alath, she is not like other Caucasians you have met. She is a warrior woman in her heart.”
Alath’s words held a hint of contempt, “It is not that she is a Caucasian, it is that she is an American. They are soft and misguided. Ignorant of what it means to live in constant unrest like the rest of the world.” She waved her elegant, well-manicured hand in the air. “They are also judgmental and condescending from their protected vantage point in the west.”
I felt a bit of ire creep up my spine and I was just about to open my mouth to defend my fellow countrymen, but Omar halted me with a too tight hand squeeze. I clamped my mouth shut, but I let my expression tell her I didn’t like her condescending tone.
Omar spoke up, “You’d best not speak of my future bride’s country in that way, Alath. She will soon be even your superior.”
Alath bristled in place. She was obviously upset with our joining and now it was finally showing. Omar’s father spoke up, “Alath, it is not your place to question Omar on his bride of choice.” Then he put his full attention back on Omar, “Son, I can see you are happy with Anna. Be patient with your sister. It will take us time to acclimate to this joining. You are fully aware we’d hoped you would marry within our race, and our class. No offense Anna,” he said with a quick no eye contact nod in my direction that seemed completely dismissive to me. “We had hoped Omar would pick a girl from another royal family. You must be aware that we had already chosen for him and he had a selection of six perfectly suited females.”
I darted my eyes between Omar and his father and then I noticed Alath’s tiny, snarky expression. Omar gave me a curt shake of his head, so I again bit my tongue.
“All of that is a moot point father. I am marrying Anna and she will be my queen. That subject is no longer a valid point of conversation and I would appreciate you refraining from upsetting my bride further.”
For the first time, Omar’s mother spoke, and she looked directly at me when she did. “Son, I am happy you have found love. It is rare and elusive and I am glad to see your happiness.”
I could tell she didn’t speak English as often as the others and her speech was thickly accented and hard to translate, but her expression was easy to read and I could tell she was sincere.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next morning we took the helicopter out to one of his private, man-made islands, and Yasmin took me to a private house near the ocean’s edge. She decorated me up one side and down the other. My hair was in perfect ringlets that danced around my face and the crimson silk dress set off my pale skin beautifully.
It was a strapless number and hit me to mid-thigh. It was beyond sexy and was dramatically cut and fitted so my bosom was lifted and fluttered with every breath. I was in the coral snake high heels Omar had purchased for me before the abduction. I’d been practicing and could now manage a decent enough, no limp—walk. It wasn’t a sexy, runway kind of walk, but oh well, at least I could do it and I knew that would make Omar happy. The shoes were the prettiest shoes I’d ever seen and the red stripe amidst the white and black of the snake’s natural pattern really set off the red in the dress.
I had on a ruby encrusted choker and stunning ruby and diamond earrings that dangled all the way to my jaw. On my fingers were the enormous diamond engagement ring, a ruby and gold ring that covered the entire first knuckle of my right ring finger, and the blue sapphire ring that had remained on my pinky finger of my right hand since I’d returned home from the hospital. I also had on a ruby and gold bracelet that was so heavy I continued to marvel at it and stroke my hand over it to feel the smooth warmth of all the gold and gems.
Yasmin had instructed me on decorum and that I was not to remove the veil or floor length gown that covered all of me. I was simply to present myself to Omar and kneel, and he would uncover me and ask me to rise at his side. Even though this was in practice, I was really nervous and most of all I hoped I didn’t fall. The ceremony was to be held on a stage out near the water with a long curving deck I would be forced to traverse on my own.
Omar had sent me ahead with Armand and Yasmin since even in their tradition the groom is not permitted to see the bride directly before the ceremony. I felt at loose ends being away from him. We’d spent the better part of the last six weeks never out of the others company, and now I felt as if part of me had been amputated. I was anxious to get this going so I could once again dwell near my love.
At dusk, with a stunning sunset at our backs, the procession filed out to the water’s edge. I was the last and was by myself. I was careful in my heels and my ankle twinged off and on unless I took a perfect step. So, I wobbled my way towards Omar who was dressed in a black tuxedo with a jacquard top coat. He looked magnificent with the sun setting behind him and my heart stalled at the site. Was this really happening? Was he mine? Was I really going to be a princess of a kingdom? Married to the most god-like man I’d ever met?
When I made it out to Omar, his eyes danced and sparkled and looked like he had an internal fire. I knew he couldn’t really see me behind the veil and the cloak, but I was excited for him to unwrap me and see all the glittering jewels he’d so carefully picked out and purchased. Yasmin had told me that on the actual day of our wedding I was to wear all white and all diamonds, but for now, for the rehearsal, I was to wear the Prince’s favorite color.
My legs were shaking as I went to my knees to kneel before my future husband. I bowed my head and I was confused when I heard a hush go through the gathered family and servants. I peeked up and saw that Omar had also gone down on his knees, and this confused me. I whispered, “Did I do something wrong?”
He leaned over and said in a low tone, so only I could hear, “No my goddess. I simply wish to kneel to you as well.”
He stayed on his knees and I again bowed my head. He reached forward and lifted my veil and then pushed the hood off my head, exposing all the tiny curls that Yasmin had painstakingly put in my hair. Omar put a finger under my chin and lifted my eyes to meet his
golden inferno, and that was when I began crying. He simply smiled at me, but it slew me to my very center and then everything blurred as the tears began popping from my eyes.
The religious man officiating cleared his throat and began talking in Arabic and Omar rose and then offered me a hand. I stood facing him, on shaking legs as I dabbed at my cheeks. He reached forward and unclasped the cloak. I didn’t move, as per the instructions, and Omar stepped up close to me to push the garment off my shoulders and to the ground at my feet.
Again I heard a collective sound of appreciation from the gathered and the look in Omar’s eyes was as if he were a starving man and I meal. His words caught in his throat and I knew he was holding back tears as well. The man in full headdress and white robes began speaking again and Omar took my hand and turned both of us towards the official.
I’d been learning some of the language, not much, but Yasmin had worked on my comprehension of just eight words, which said official just now questioned. “Do you give yourself wholly to this man?”
I looked towards Omar who gave me a tiny nod. I looked back at the official and in a weak voice I said, “Yes I do.” In the native tongue of my finance. Omar clutched at my hands when he heard my voice speaking the words that would bind me to him permanently.
He spoke the same words after a string of questions I didn’t understand. Yasmin told me that the male in question is asked if he is prepared to be the master and protector of the female. I joked that there weren’t any vows of love, only those of slave and master. Yasmin said that marriage in their culture was rarely about love, usually simply about possession acquisition of a commodity. She also told me that within their culture it was not only permitted but expected of the King to have a small harem, or at the very least, another woman on the side. I’d of course scoffed and said something like that would never happen. I will never forget Yasmin’s expression and how many doubts filtered into my mind after that conversation.
The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 3 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 3) Page 4
