Possession of the Sheikh: (Interracial BWWM Erotica) (The Men of Sharjah Series Book 2)

by Nadia Aidan

  “There’s plenty of space,” Amir had pointed out. “And since we’re both newlyweds, we won’t have to be so far away from our wives and for so long while we conduct business.”

  Amir’s gesture had been entirely genuine, but I was sure he knew that our marriage was a far cry from what he now shared with Daniella. Being so close to the happy couple was more than a little depressing, but their intense desire and affection toward each other was what made me long to know my husband’s touch again to the point I actually physically ached from the need.

  I’d been furious with him at first, when before he’d left for Dubai he’d made mention that I was failing to fulfill the duties of our agreement, especially considering he was the one who’d made the decision to leave our bed. It had been weeks since we’d last made love, and now I was actually mad at myself because I yearned for him, while he walked around stoic and detached as if our passionless nights weren’t starting to get to him, when I knew they were.

  I could tell being around a couple as ardent as Amir and Daniella made Khalil that much more aware of the absence of our own passionate nights than he let on—that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. He thought I didn’t see the brief glances, or the longing in his eyes whenever our gazes met. There were some times when I would catch him staring, and the desire smoldering in his eyes was so powerful I would actually have to remind myself to breathe.

  Just that morning, I’d been ensnared by the unrelenting yearning in his darkly lashed gaze while the four of us sat across from each other at the breakfast table. I was certain Khalil hadn’t even been aware of the raw desire radiating from him, but eventually I’d become completely overwhelmed, and not just by him. Between the open affection displayed by Daniella and Amir, and Khalil’s hungry stare—I’d been forced to excuse myself, and I’d returned to my room.

  Which was where I now kept myself locked away, as if I could guard against my own desires, but they were impossible to ignore, especially when the passionate sounds of lovemaking drifted into the living room through the open doors that led out onto the balcony.

  “Seriously?”

  This wasn’t the first time I’d overheard Daniella and Amir making love in the garden. Actually, this wasn’t the first time I’d overheard them period. Whenever the two of them weren’t working, having sex was all they seemed to do, to the point I was starting to think they didn’t actually talk anymore—until I remembered Khalil and I didn’t talk either, and since we definitely weren’t having sex, I decided maybe those in glass houses needed to keep their thoughts out of other people’s business.

  I started across the room so that I could shut the balcony doors but drew up short when the other door leading into our main quarters opened and then shut. Khalil and I basically shared the equivalent of a two bedroom two bath suite that had its own living and dining area, even though most of the time we ate with Daniella and Amir in the main dining room. It was Sunday, so there was little to do and nowhere to go, so I was not surprised that with Amir otherwise occupied, Khalil had returned to our suite. I’d intended to close the balcony doors and then retreat to my bedroom so that I wouldn’t have to encounter Khalil, because with my heightened awareness of him I was vulnerable right now.

  When the noises coming from the gardens grew louder, I rushed across the room to firmly shut the balcony doors, but even with that, I could still make out the distinct moans and groans of sex, and I knew Khalil could too.

  He stood across from me, the solid muscles of his masculine body drawing my gaze as rivulets of sweat trickled down his bare chest. He’d been working out in the palace gym and I felt my cheeks grow warm as I followed one single droplet until it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jersey shorts. I willed my gaze not to travel lower, but I couldn’t stop myself, and I actually heard my heart rhythm speed up as I watched the impressive bulge in Khalil’s shorts swell and harden with arousal. He clutched a white t-shirt in one fist, and his hand curled tighter as I watched his chest expand and retract from taking deep, long breaths.

  “Sabeen.” He said my name on a ragged moan, as if the word tortured him. My gaze immediately snapped to his face, and what I saw there sent a throbbing surge of heat straight to my core.

  Before I could even take my text breath, Khalil dropped the shirt, crossed the room and dragged me up against him. He crushed his lips against mine taking full possession of my mouth with hot, wet thrusts of his tongue. The feverish intensity with which he tore my sundress from my body made me yelp and I drew back slightly, only to see that his hands actually shook. Mine trembled just a little too as I reached for the waistband of his shorts, and helped him shove them down the length of his powerful thighs. I was practically on my knees so when he stepped out of his shorts the thick, heavy flesh of his cock bobbed before my face. Grasping his thickness in my hand, I decided to settle on my knees completely.

  He called my name, and tried to stop me by raking his hand through my hair but he was soon rendered powerless when I pressed forward to take the swollen head of his cock into my mouth. Khalil now grasped the back of my head, more to anchor him than anything as I descended on his turgid flesh, taking him hard and deep until the tip of his dick brushed against the back of my throat.

  “Oh, shit,” he hissed, his fingers gripping my head tighter. I bobbed up and down on his length, my lips creating a deep, vacuum suction. With one hand, I fisted the base of his cock, while I used the other to massage the heavy sac of his balls. As I worked my mouth up and down his dick faster, taking him deeper every time, I knew he was close to losing control, by the way his cock jerked against my tongue.

  “Fuck, Nala, you’re about to make me come.”

  My only response was to moan, sending tiny vibrations across his sensitive flesh which finally made him erupt.

  He came on a long, hoarse groan as he held me tight by the back of my head with both hands digging into my scalp.

  The first spurt of semen hit my tongue and I had barely swallowed it before it was followed by another and then another.

  I struggled to work my throat fast enough to keep up with the copious amounts of cum he ejaculated into my mouth, and I realized he knew it when he grunted, “That’s it Nala, swallow all of my pent up cum from weeks of denying me my pussy.”

  I should have known he would punish me at some point. Even in his needy state, he still managed to wield a measure of dominance over me, and I was all too willing to submit as I swallowed every last drop of his seed. When he finally released my head and pulled out of my mouth, that’s when I noticed he hadn’t softened. I looked up at him, but I had no moment to question him, because within the next instant, he joined me on the carpeted floor of our living room, stretched out atop me and hooked his arms beneath my legs until I was spread wide before him.

  Giving him pleasure had left me wet with arousal, but I still didn’t think I was quite ready, especially not when I glimpsed the wild, frenzied look in his eyes.

  “Khalil—”

  I tried to slow him down by calling his name, but he swallowed up by voice when he slammed his lips against mine, and claimed my mouth with forceful strokes of his tongue. Seconds later, his cock did the same. At first he teased against my wet opening, sinking the thick head inside before retreating and doing it all over again, as if testing my readiness, and when he was satisfied, Khalil surged forward burying every single inch of himself inside me on one deep, sure thrust.

  I moaned, but his mouth still possessed mine, so the sound was engulfed by his kiss as he took me hard and fast, riding my body with deep pounding strokes until another mini orgasm shook him and he came inside of me as he groaned out his pleasure, his face pressed into the curve of my neck. I expected him to lift himself off of me, as a form of punishment to leave me still wet and horny. But instead, he rolled over onto his back, and pulled me with him. He managed to keep our bodies joined so that I was poised above him, my knees straddling his hips. I noticed then that even though he wasn’t f
ully erect, he still hadn’t completely gone down, and this time I pointed out the obvious.

  He shrugged. “This has never happened before.” His expression changed until a dark glower spread across his handsome features. “I’m sure this has something to do with my body’s addiction to you and the forced weeks of celibacy you put me through.”

  “Me?” I glared at him. “I wasn’t the one who left our bed.”

  “I’m sorry, but laying next to my wife who’s hell bent on keeping her legs closed to me indefinitely just meant lonely, sleepless nights. I figured if I was going to be alone anyway, I might as well at least get some sleep.”

  “You’re a pig. This is all about sex to you.”

  His eyes narrowed in anger. “I wanted more, but you didn’t, Nala. So right now, yes this is all about sex.”

  I ignored the lurching of my heart at his words, which were past tense. He’d wanted more, and now he didn’t—”

  “Ride me.”

  I stared down at him, at first in disbelief and then with barely contained fury because from his desire laden stare to the hardening length of his cock inside me I knew he was actually serious. Between his quickie performance and complete dismissal of the reasons why we hadn’t had sex in so long, I almost smacked him.

  “Fuck you.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to get you to do.”

  I swore I almost slapped him, but I knew he would catch my wrist before my palm could hit its mark, so I moved to get off of him instead. But he wouldn’t let me, which caused me to struggle against him until I finally shouted, “Let me go.”

  “We’re not done yet,” he said firmly. “I’ve never lost control like that before, and I want to make it up to you. Ride me, Nala. Please.”

  His expression was earnest, and I could tell he was sincere, but I was still pissed.

  “I’m not in the mood anymore.” I tried to get off of him again, but he held firm. “Let—me—go,” I fumed.

  “I want to see your tits jiggle as you bounce up and down on my dick, so you can either ride me, or I will bind your wrists and bounce you up and down on my cock myself. Your choice.”

  The image he presented sent a spike of heat shooting down my spine. It was so shameful, that my desire now rivaled my anger, but out of pride alone I held my ground. When I neither moved, nor did I open my mouth to say anything, Khalil simply shook his head and sighed, and with lightening quick movements, he reached over to grab his shirt and sat up. Without separating our bodies his hands shot around my back, and with the practiced expertise of a skilled dominant, he did exactly as he’d warned—he bound my wrists behind me.

  “Happy,” I snapped when he scooted us both backwards until his back rested against the living room couch.

  “Not yet.” His hands clasped around my hips as his eyes darkened. “But I will be once I have you screaming my name as I’m coming inside my pussy.”

  My desire clashed with shock, but before I could begin to even form a retort, he began rocking me back and forth on his dick until my pussy grew slick and wet enough for him to lift me off his cock so that he could jerk me down and slide right back in. Pleasure began to coil inside my belly, hot and insistent until I had to bite down on my lip to keep the moans from slipping out.

  “Ah, Nala. That’s what I love about you,” he groaned out as he guided me down onto his cock again. “The fight you always put up. It makes it that much sweeter when I force your surrender.”

  I gasped, not at his words, because that I already knew, but at the stroke of his tongue against my feverish skin when he leaned forward to take one of my pebbled nipples into his mouth.

  The moans I’d fought to quell, tumbled out of me, and if anything they grew louder when his hands slipped from my hips to cup the swells of my ass. He slammed me down harder and faster, as he surged upward, thrusting deep into my clenching, wet pussy.

  The friction of our bodies coming together set off a firestorm inside of me and I felt the pressure building at the center of my pussy, throbbing and pulsing until I came on a loud cry. Khalil was right there with me. He leaned forward to press his face within the valley of my breasts and groaned against my slick skin, his arms clutching and holding me tight as he brought me down onto him one final time, stuffing me full of his swelling cock until it jerked and then exploded inside me drenching my walls with his hot sperm. My spasming pussy milked him until he was finally spent and his cock softened.

  Eventually Khalil lifted me off of him and carried me into my bedroom where he joined me for the rest of the day, and stayed with me through the night. We didn’t speak of what had happened to cause the rift between us. We hardly spoke at all because we made love until it was nearly dawn, and we were finally both exhausted.

  When I rose the next morning I was not surprised to find Khalil was no longer in bed beside me. It was the start of the workweek and I was certain he and Amir had a number of government matters to attend to. But despite his absence, I felt lighthearted, even happy for the first time in weeks. I knew Khalil and I needed to talk. I needed to tell him the truth—that I was willing to work on our marriage, if he was prepared to be completely honest with me, about everything. I swallowed down the lump in my throat because if I demanded complete honesty from him then that meant I would finally have to tell him the truth, and that included all of it.

  As I showered and dressed for work, I considered the gravity of the discussion that lay before Khalil and I. It was necessary if we were ever going to move forward, but it was also quite possible neither one of us was ready for the truth. With a small sigh, I pushed the worrisome thoughts aside, because there was no point in fretting about anything at that very moment. I would have plenty of time for that when Khalil stood before me and we were forced to hash out everything that had transpired between us.

  I entered the main living room to grab my briefcase and leave for the day, but it was as if I conjured him because Khalil stood at the window staring outside. He turned at the sound of me entering the room, and I halted immediately surprised to see him because I’d thought he’d left for work already, which was exactly what I said.

  “I wanted to speak to you. Well actually I wanted to give you something and explain,” he said as he pulled out an envelope from inside his suit jacket.

  I looked at him quizzically as I slowly crossed the room. The feeling of déjà vu settled over me as I remembered how he’d presented the betrothal papers that day in my office. He’d had an air of smug triumph to him that day, but today was much different. As he placed the envelope on the coffee table between us, his demeanor was that of a man filled with resignation. The look in his eyes made my belly roil with unease and I knew immediately something was wrong.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I was wrong to force you into a marriage you didn’t want. It was selfish of me—”

  Before he could finish I snatched up the envelope and opened it. I already knew what was inside, but still, to see the words felt as if the ground had fallen out from under me.

  “You’re divorcing me?”

  I was so shocked I missed the pained expression on his face. “No you’re divorcing me. The terms are all in your favor, and your family will not suffer as a result of our parting.”

  Blood pounded in my ears, so I didn’t hear him as he went through the various clauses that would leave me not only a wealthy divorcee but also with my reputation and family honor intact. In that moment I didn’t care about any of it, all I could think about was last night and everything we’d done together. I’d thought it had been a new beginning but all along he’d been planning this. My fury and resentment boiled over before I could stop myself.

  “So what was yesterday and last night, hell even this morning! Some good-bye fuck?” I threw the papers to the floor because they offended me. “Do you really think I’m that pathetic—”

  “I didn’t mean for yesterday to happen—that’s not what I meant,” he corrected when he glimpsed the anguish on
my face. “When I walked in here and saw you, and heard them, my need for you was so great at that point that I lost what little control I had. But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. This has always been about me and my needs, and because of that I forced you into a marriage you didn’t want, to a man you don’t love. You’re unhappy, Sabeen, I see it on your face every single day. That’s when I realized you need to have the freedom to choose your husband, to choose the man you love, and after all I’ve done to you…” He let out a long breath. “You deserve to be happy.”

  I wanted to yell at him that he didn’t know shit about what I deserved, or a thing about what would make me happy. He definitely didn’t know a thing about love, but I was frozen where I stood and he took my silence as his cue to leave. It was some time before I moved from that spot, and when I did I returned to my bedroom and stripped out of my suit because I knew I wasn’t going to work that day. I crawled back into bed, furious at myself for opening my heart to Khalil yet again, for believing his lies yet again, for buying into yet another promise that Khalil had made, when I should have known all along promises to me were something Khalil could never seem to keep.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Khalil and I had decided to stay in the palace residence to be closer to Amir, so that the two of them would be able to conduct political matters more swiftly, I’d considered it a good idea, but by that evening I was definitely of a different mind.

  Every few hours someone from the staff would attempt to bring up something for me to eat, even though I kept telling them I wasn’t hungry. By that evening, and the fourth time I heard the familiar sound of someone knocking on my door, I was ready to pack my bags and move out that night. I could have ignored it or told them to get lost, but I knew whoever it was was just doing their job, so as much as I wanted to continue to wallow in my own pity, alone in my bed, I donned my robe and answered the door.