by Marian Tee
“Come on, Cin. Make up your mind. Do you want me to order anything for you or not?” Anisah’s impatient tone drew Hyacinth’s attention back to her sister, and she had to swallow back a laugh at the way Anisah was shifting restlessly on her feet. Anisah only tended to be this jittery when she thought she was being denied her daily quota of sugar.
Hyacinth shook her head, saying finally, “I’m not that hungry, but maybe I’ll change my mind later. Anyway, I’ll join you as soon as I’m done, ‘kay?”
“Take your time,” Anisah assured her younger sister.
“I definitely will, knowing how you tend to make love to your ice cream.”
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do.” And then Hyacinth dashed inside the bookstore to ensure she had the last word.
Brat. But even so, an affectionate smile tugged at the corner of Anisah’s lips as she entered the bakdash or ice cream parlor. Her sister had always been a brat, to be honest, but the lovable kind, and she was not being biased about that.
“Marhava, anisdi,” the night-shift waitress greeted her with a smile.
“Marhava, Minnie,” Anisah greeted as she made her way to her favorite booth, which was right next to the windows and just a few steps away from the jukebox.
In keeping with its fifties’ diner theme, the ice cream parlor had all the usual staples: checkered flooring, oldies music, and even staff on skates. But because it also came with a Moroccan twist, polychromatic square tiles made up the bar’s countertop, its stools came with quilted cushions, and the glass cabinet at the corner showcased a wide range of hookahs for rent.
Whipping her pen and pad out of her breast pocket as she reached Anisah’s table, the waitress asked, “The usual for you?”
Anisah’s lips twitched. “You know me so well, Minnie.”
“It’s those bags under your eyes,” the other woman half-joked. “They make a reliable point of reference for how much ice cream you need in your system.”
“Oh, Min.” Anisah shook her head with a sigh. “You don’t know how right you are.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place.” Minnie skated away, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll get your order out as soon as I can.”
The older woman was good as her word, returning just ten minutes later with Anisah’s beloved dessert: a medium-sized wooden goblet filled with mouthwatering rose-flavored booza covered with a gooey, saccharine layer of pistachio.
“Shukrahn.” Anisah bowed her head in thanks, and as Minnie skated back to the counter, Anisah closed her eyes and clasped her hands in prayer.
Heavenly One above, thank you for your grace.
The sheikh’s image flashed in her mind, disturbingly vivid, and she squeezed her eyes shut more tightly in an effort to chase it away.
I pray for the spirit of chastity to remain in me.
I pray for the strength to fight earthly temptations.
I pray for the wisdom to remain on the path of righteousness.
Amen. Anisah absently uncrossed her legs under the table as she ended her prayer, but in the course of doing so, the tip of her foot hit something solid.
Her eyes flew open.
The sheikh stood next to her table, looking handsome as a devil in shirt and jeans, and when he smiled down at her, murmuring politely, “Marhava, Tory,” – it was like being struck by a bolt of lightning.
Must. Escape. Now.
Chapter Nine
Anisah’s violet eyes were wide and panicky as she stared at him, her face flushed and her lips parted. It was quite similar to how she had looked just before bolting out of his limousine earlier, and so the moment she made an attempt to leave, Tarif was ready, sliding next to her inside the booth before she could even fully stand up.
Knowing there was no way for her to get past the sheikh, Anisah forced herself to sit back down and move away until her back hit the window. For one long tense moment, they stared at each other, and in the sheikh’s possessive and forceful ebony gaze, she saw her most wanton memories come alive.
Aaaaaah.
She remembered the sinful beauty of his voice as he urged her to succumb to her baser desires---
Let me in, Tory…I need to touch you…Tell me I can touch you, my sweet.
And her fingers tightened into fists.
She remembered the masterful strokes of his tongue inside her mouth, and the way he ground himself against her, and a sensual shiver danced down her spine.
She remembered how it felt to have him suck on her nipple---
Stop it, Anisah!
She drove the memories away with an effort and dragged breath into her suddenly dry throat. Ever since she had returned to the apartment she shared with Hyacinth, she had done her very best to distract herself. She had tried to pretend that everything was okay, and that everything could remain normal.
But instead, she had found herself acting the opposite. She had ended up making her sister think she had lost her marbles – and it was all the sheikh’s fault, curse it.
Everything was his fault!
Tarif had come looking for Anisah prepared for battle, and when she raised her eyes to his, the militant look in her gaze told him it was so.
“What are you doing here, Your Highness? And how did you even know I was here?” Her voice was polite but icy, the closest a loyal citizen like Anisah could afford in discouraging the attention of an Al-Atassi sheikh.
Too bad for her, such words had no impact on him. He only cared about her truest desires, and the way her breasts rapidly rose and fell under her thin robe told him that Anisah wanted the same thing he wanted.
Sex.
Lots of it.
And one day my sweet, I will make you admit this myself.
But for now he had to bide his time, and so he simply ignored her questions, remarking instead, “You do not seem happy to see me.”
The sheikh’s words reminded Anisah of another person who’d feel the exact opposite, and her face whitened. She immediately twisted her head to look around while demanding, “Where’s Minnie?” The other woman was obsessed with royalty, and heaven knew what crazy ideas Minnie would entertain if she saw Anisah sharing a booth with the sheikh.
“Relax, my sweet. I had one of my bodyguards ensure she took a well-deserved break while you and I…talk.” Tarif cocked his head to the side. “You do not have a problem with this, I assume?”
Her teeth gnashed. Both of them knew she would rather not have anyone see them together, but with Minnie away, it also meant they were alone – and she did not like that. She tended to do foolish things when she was alone with the sheikh, and oh dear heavens, just having him so near now –
It was making her want to do more foolish things, and that was not good at all.
“Why are you doing this, sheikh?”
“I already told you why.”
Another memory drifted to her. No more games, anisdi. I want us to try again. Such beautiful words, but she’d be an idiot if she let mere words sweep her away, and so Anisah slowly shook her head. “It’s impossible.”
“You are meant to be my woman---”
“No.” She shook her head again, vigorously this time. “I am not and I won’t ever be.”
But her protests only had the sheikh regard her in calm contemplation. “You truly believe this?” His question dared her to lie to him outright – something he knew her honor would cause her to struggle over – and when he saw Anisah bite her lip, Tarif knew he had succeeded in making his point.
Their gazes met.
Hers was pleading. Can’t you just leave me alone and find someone else?
His was unyielding. You are the only one I want.
Anisah was torn. A part of her was exasperated and even despairing at the sheikh’s infernal stubbornness, but then there was the other part of her – her most foolish and shameful side, actually - that actually delighted in the sheikh’s desire to possess her.
“This can’t end well,” she said finally. “You know
it can’t, sheikh. So can’t we just be smart about this and just get on with each other’s lives? Separately?” She took a deep breath. “Please?”
But the sheikh only had one word to say. “No.”
Curse him. Anisah’s look of reluctant entreaty readily turned into one of frustration. “You can have any woman in the world---”
“But I only want you.” His words only had Anisah throwing him an unimpressed look. Bullshit, it snarled at him, and Tarif inclined his head with a slight smile, acknowledging her understandable unwillingness to believe him. “I know my past makes such words appear patently false, but it is not. You are the only one I want---”
“That’s exactly what makes this hard to believe, Your Highness. I’m nothing special---”
“On the contrary, I’d say you were one of a kind, my sweet.”
“One of a kind?” Her tone was openly incredulous now. “In what way?”
Wickedness flashed in the sheikh’s dark gaze. “Your pussy for one.”
She choked.
“I’ve developed quite an obsession with it.”
Anisah couldn’t help gaping and blushing at the same time. “I cannot believe you are saying such things---”
“The thought of making your pussy mine has me awake for nights---”
“Sheikh, please!” Feeling like she was about to burst into flames at the sheikh’s words, Anisah clumsily made a grab for her dessert and fed herself a huge spoonful in an effort to cool her body down.
A smile of pure male satisfaction formed on the sheikh’s lips at Anisah’s flushed appearance, and he purred, “I am only speaking the truth---”
“You only think you’re speaking the truth, Your Highness.” She shoved another spoonful inside her mouth, but it did nothing to reduce the heat that was insidiously invading every inch of her body and making her tingle from head to toe. “My…” She could think of the word easily enough – pussy, pussy, pussy – but thinking it was quite different from voicing it out loud, and so she said instead, “My kitty is no different from the others.”
Kitty? The sheikh almost choked, but he managed to drawl in a fairly steady voice, “While I always respect your opinion, I also believe when it comes to the matter of your kitty---” He grinned, and she turned red. “It’s something my cock is in a better position to decide on. Do you not think so?”
Anisah could only glower at the sheikh. Thinking was exactly what she couldn’t do, and it was so the moment the sheikh spoke of a certain part of his anatomy. Oh dear heavens, what that long, thick, hard member of his could do to her member…
“Shall I take your silence as yes?” The sheikh’s tone was one of polite inquiry. “Perhaps we may even put it to a test – in the interest of a fair and scientific pursuit of the truth, perhaps we could indulge in a little demonstration of how my cock finds your pussy---”
“Enough, Your Highness!” Anisah rolled her eyes even as she struggled to keep her amusement from showing. Oh, the things this man said!
“You should do that more often,” the sheikh murmured.
She was bemused. “Roll my eyes?”
“I meant this.” Leaning forward, Tarif pressed a finger to Anisah’s pursed lips, and his eyes gleamed as she jerked away from his touch. “Smiling, anisdi. Is it so bad that I make you smile?”
He expected her to deny this, but instead she said without hesitation, “Nem, alshaykh,” and Tarif threw back his head with a laugh. There she went again, surprising him once more with her unexpectedly straightforward manner. It could only bode well for them, Tarif thought in lazy satisfaction. With this woman in his life, he doubted he’d ever be bored.
Gazing at her with hooded eyes, he murmured, “If my ability to make you smile is shameful, then you must abhor the fact that you are attracted to me.”
Anisah’s teeth gnashed at the good-natured humor underlining the sheikh’s tone. “This may be a laughing matter to you,” she snarled, “but it is not so for me. I don’t even understand why I f-feel…you know.” The sheikh smirked at the way she stumbled over her words, and she grew more livid. “That is precisely why it makes no sense I feel this way!”
“That?”
“There’s just something about you that rubs me wrong,” she couldn’t help growling, “and everything you do and say just makes me so---”
“Frustrated?” Tarif guessed. “Furious? Restless?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“Enough to tempt you to hit me even?”
“Yes!”
The sheikh nodded in understanding. “It’s called sexual frustration.”
“Ye--- I mean no!” She shot up in her seat in a mixture of horror and annoyance. “How in the world did you end up with---” Her words came to an unplanned halt when she noticed the way the sheikh was lowering his head towards her, and she caught her breath.
This…was…not…good.
“S-Sheikh---”
“You do not believe me?”
“No---”
“I see.” The sheikh’s lips curved. “That’s too bad.”
No, it wasn’t, Anisah thought. It was good.
“Because now I’d have to prove otherwise…with a demonstration.”
The sheikh was right, Anisah thought. It was bad.
And with this, she quickly planted her hands against the sheikh’s hard chest and tried to push him away. “Your Highness! No! Stop!”
But the sheikh’s head only continued to descend, and now even his large, powerful body was crowding closer and making Anisah plaster herself helplessly against the window behind her back.
“Tarif,” the sheikh rasped, and this time his voice was so thick with desire she almost whimpered at the sound of it. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me by my name?”
Oh stars of the desert, please help me…
Anisah could only shake her head as the heavens appeared deaf to her prayers, and her body started feeling hot, heavy, and oh, so, achingly wet. “This is wrong---”
“Because I’m a sheikh? Or because you think I am not the kind of man you should be attracted to?”
“I…I…” Oh curse him, it was so hard to think with the way the sheikh was looking at her, and she said almost despairingly, “You really don’t want me, Your Highness. You only think you do---”
Tarif almost smiled, thinking how no other woman would say such a thing to him. “Believe it or not, but I used to question my obsession with you as well. You, my sweet, are not the kind of woman I am normally attracted to either.”
The words stung more than she expected it would, and Anisah glared at the sheikh. “No one’s forcing you to like me, Your Highness, and nothing you say can ever make me change myself---”
The sheikh interrupted her, asking, “Do you even know what I like or don’t like about you?”
Her lip curled. “It’s easy to take a guess. I am neither as beautiful nor as glamorous as any of your other women---”
“That is not---”
Having gained momentum, Anisah didn’t let the sheikh cut her off, saying hotly, “And no doubt you also dislike how I refuse to pander to you like the others do as well as the fact that I never hesitate to speak the truth about your shortcomings.” She shot him a triumphant look. “Am I not right?”
Anisah waited for the sheikh to admit the truth, but all she got instead was a slow, sexy smile that had her toes curling.
Curses.
“Actually, my sweet – everything you spoke of are what arouses me---”
Another choking sound of despair escaped her. “Does nothing not turn you on?’
In response to her question, the sheikh suddenly grabbed her hand, and before she realized what he had planned, the sheikh had already guided her fingers to curl around his erection. Her stunned gaze flew to his, and the sheikh smirked. “The answer is now in your hands.”
Oh my heavens!
It was just too much, and she couldn’t help but choke with laughter even as she tried her very best not to
let the way his big, hard, throbbing manhood kept pulsing demandingly in the circle of her fingers.
The sheikh suddenly moved closer, causing his length to push forward in her grip. The sheikh groaned, and Anisah bit back a cry. She had the most burning urge to start stroking him, to make his manhood push in and out between her fingers, all so she could hear him make that sound one more time---
“Tory---”
Her fingers involuntarily tightened, the sheikh groaned again, and her whole body sang.
Tarif was doing his best to keep himself under control, but the way her fingers were wrapped so tightly around his phallus only served as a painful reminder of how her pussy could be just as tight. Maybe even tighter---
Ah God.
He looked at Anisah. “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.”
Her face went up in flames. “Sheikh, p-please, your language---”
“I intend to have sexual intercourse with you.”
Oh, curse him.
“Copulation between us is inevitable.”
“S-Sheikh!” But try as she might, her pursed lips proved defenseless against the sheikh’s deadpan humor, and a small, helpless laugh escaped Anisah even as her body grew more restless with unquenched need.
“I made you laugh.”
The sheikh’s smug tone had Anisah making a face. “Don’t get used to---” His erection twitched powerfully in her grip all of a sudden, and her voice faltered.
“Blame it on the sound of your laughter.” Tarif’s voice was matter-of-fact. “It’s so damn rare it has me close to cumming.”
“Oh…sheikh.” Her lips started to wobble, her fingers started to shake---
“Quit fighting it, Tory. You find me funny---”
Something flickered in her eyes, and then she was yanking her hand away as her face paled.
“Tory---”
She shook her head. “You’re right. I find you funny. I shouldn’t, but I do, and I don’t want it. I’d rather find you sexually irresistible than funny, sheikh---”
Tarif stiffened.
“I know it sounds ludicrous, but I must not find you funny, sheikh.”
