Shared for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 10)

by Annabelle Winters

  You’re allowing yourself to wake up, that’s all, she told herself as she trembled from the sight of Ephraim slowly pushing the waistband of his underwear down. This is what you’ve studied and researched, haven’t you? That for millions of years women were taken by multiple men of the tribe, that it was a survival mechanism, selected by evolution. You know that what you’re feeling lives inside every woman, but today’s morals force us all to deny those instincts, to suppress those needs, to reject even the suggestion that we can be strong, ambitious, intellectual women in the workplace but still get aroused by those old instincts which allowed us to survive and thrive in ancient societies.

  “Oh, shit,” she muttered when Ephraim’s cock finally sprang into view as he pushed his tight black underwear down past those muscular thighs and tossed them away. “Oh, God, Ephraim.”

  “You know I did not touch you last night,” the Sheikh whispered, his voice thick with arousal as he stroked his cock until it curved upwards, supremely hard, its dark red tip swollen and oozing, his heavy balls looking full and loaded as his erection brought them into view. “But I am going to touch you now. Touch you all over. Outside, and inside. Deep inside. All the way inside.”

  Jan felt herself nodding as she watched his cock gently bounce as he approached. She could smell her own sex mixing with his earthy musk, and when he got so close she could feel the tip of his cock brush against the delicate hairs of her feminine, her throat almost closed up with need.

  Ephraim looked into her eyes as he reached down and grasped his cock firmly around the shaft. Then he slowly rubbed the head of his beast against her pubic curls, finding her clit and pressing against it with his cock in a way that made her moan as the heat roared through her like a desert storm. They still hadn’t even kissed, and the only contact was the tip of his cock against her throbbing clit, and it was so delicate, so perfect, so incredibly poignant, that without understanding what was happening, Jan shuddered and shivered and suddenly, out of nowhere, realized she was about to have a massive orgasm.

  She opened her mouth to speak as her eyes went wide in shock. But the words didn’t come, and instead it was Ephraim who spoke.

  “Come for me,” he whispered as he rotated his cockhead against her pulsing nub, flicking her stiff little bean with his thick head. “Look into my eyes and come for me, Jan. I said look at me. Look at me as you come.”

  She could barely hear him as her orgasm roared through her body, but somehow she managed to focus on his eyes, those dark green embers bearing down on her as her climax whipped her into a paralyzed frenzy. She was coming hard, after barely being touched, before even being kissed. Coming hard. Coming for him. For the Sheikh, for Ephraim, at his command.

  Which one is he, came the thought as she finally collapsed against him as her climax brought her to her knees. The evil Sheikh or the good king? Which one is he?

  17

  “Where is she?” Sheikh Darius asked the frightened attendant who was kneeling before him in the heavily-carpeted presidential suite of the London Grand Plaza hotel. “Where has Ephraim taken her?”

  “La 'aerif,” said the attendant, one of Ephraim’s men, who’d been dragged to Darius’s suite by the Sheikh’s bodyguards in the middle of the night. He was the only member of Ephraim’s entourage that Darius’s men had managed to seize. The rest seemed to have vanished just like Ephraim and Jan. “I do not know, Sheikh Darius! I am only a baggage-handler for Sheikh Ephraim! I do not even enter his presence! I know nothing! I only know that all the Sheikh’s entourage are gone, and I was ordered to stay behind to make sure the luggage was accounted for! I know nothing else, I swear it!”

  “Kadhaab,” said Darius, glancing at one of his bodyguards and then at the attendant. “Cut off three fingers and then I will ask him again.”

  “No!” screamed the attendant. “I swear to Allah that I speak the truth!”

  “Then Allah will grow your fingers back for you,” said Darius. He snapped his fingers at his bodyguard. “Do it.”

  The bodyguard grabbed the attendant’s right arm and pulled out a curved dagger from beneath his jacket as the man began to howl like a caged beast. The bodyguard pushed the attendant face-down on the carpet, pressing the point of his knee into the screaming man’s back, pinning him on the floor. The bodyguard positioned the glistening edge of the dagger just beneath the middle knuckles of the man’s fingers, and took a long breath before glancing up at the Sheikh.

  Darius looked down at the attendant, who was bawling like a child at the Sheikh’s feet. Then he grunted softly and gestured to his bodyguard, who exhaled hard and pulled the dagger away before removing his knee from the attendant’s back.

  “When did Ephraim’s private jet take off from Heathrow?” said Darius to another bodyguard as he watched the relieved attendant get ushered to the door and sent on his way. “And can we confirm that Ephraim was actually on board?”

  He listened as his men answered the question he’d asked three times over the past hour. Ephraim’s jet had taken off shortly after Darius realized Jan was missing. He’d seen the glass of iced-tea with her lipstick on it, and he could smell the aruha even before he brought his nose to it. Darius had almost smashed the glass against the table in front of everyone at the gala, but somehow managed to restrain himself long enough to leave the room and make it back to his hotel suite, where he punched the stainless-steel refrigerator so hard the dent showed the outline of each knuckle.

  He’d thought of calling the police, but something had stopped him. There was no doubt in his mind that Ephraim had taken Jan, and he suspected that Ephraim had stayed in London while sending his empty jet back to Habeetha in an attempt to make Darius think he’d left. What was he thinking, the arrogant fool?! Was Ephraim hoping that Darius would fly back to Noramaar in a blind rage, order his men to head to Habeetha’s Royal Palace, perhaps even order a full-on attack on Habeetha? Perhaps, but unlikely. Ephraim could not seriously expect that Darius would order a military operation over a woman he’d known for a week. No, Ephraim had done it merely as a signal that he was ready to play the game, but on his own terms, that there were no rules, that Darius might have started the game but wasn’t going to be able to control every move.

  But was this just Ephraim’s move, or was it Jan’s move as well, the thought had come as Darius went over the events of the night. And then it came to him, and Darius had almost lost his mind when he realized what he’d missed. That glass of iced-tea had been drained to the last drop, and judging by the lingering smell of the aruha, there was no way the taste had been disguised well enough for Jan not to notice. Which meant she’d known what was in that glass and she’d gone forward anyway.

  It was just after this realization that his bodyguards had dragged in Ephraim’s attendant, and Darius was in such a state that he’d been serious about cutting off the poor man’s fingers. It was only that last look from his bodyguard that brought the Sheikh back to reality—the reality that he was shaken and turned around, that Ephraim had gotten to him.

  And the only reason Ephraim had gotten to him was because Jan had gotten to him. She’d gotten to Darius, and she’d shown that she was ready to step into the arena and play this game with them.

  Perhaps she has already stepped into the arena, came the last thought as Darius waved away his men and realized he could do nothing right now but wait. Ya Allah, Professor Johansen. You have stepped in with us, have you not? So I hope you know that now there is no turning back . . .

  Not for any of us.

  18

  She turned her back to Ephraim and curled into a fetal position when he placed her on the bed after she came for him and collapsed into his arms. He pulled the covers over her naked body and then lay down beside her, breathing hard as his cock throbbed and his balls clenched tight. Already Ephraim could feel himself fall under her spell—a spell that she perhaps did not even know she was casting upon him, pe
rhaps upon them both! He watched her back rise and fall as she took deep breaths, marveled at the way the silk sheets highlighted her womanly curves, shuddered at the scent of her perfume mixing with the aroma of her wet sex. He was hard and ready, and there was nothing to stop him from pulling those covers off her and taking her hard and fast, any way he wanted. He’d done it a thousand times, with a thousand different women. But he held back and waited, his chest heaving as he controlled his arousal and lay there beside her.

  Ephraim listened to her breathe, and slowly he matched her breath for breath until he could sense their bodies falling into a subtle rhythm even though they lay side by side with no contact and she still had her back to him.

  Ya Allah, I feel an attraction, a pull, a magnetic draw to her, Ephraim thought as he marveled at how this woman was somehow controlling him even though in a way she’d lost control of herself. Her orgasm had been real, intense, wild, and it had almost driven Ephraim himself over the edge. But somehow he’d held himself in check and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently instead of pushing her face into the pillow and pumping into her from behind until he exploded into her depths like he wanted.

  Now he felt movement as their breathing stayed in rhythm, and he turned his head to see Jan’s big brown eyes looking at him. She’d turned on her side to face him, and she looked beautiful in the yellow light of the sun that streamed in from behind. The angle of the sun’s rays cast her in a strange golden light, and Ephraim frowned as he was reminded of the shining waters of the Golden Oasis. A chill ran through him when he thought back to what he’d read about Jan, about her research into shared marriages, her belief that humans had evolved as a species who enjoyed multiple sexual partners and formed strong bonds that were more than just one-on-one.

  We are all just part of her research, just like she herself is part of her research, he thought. And there is no way to research something like this without immersing yourself into it, without letting yourself go, without giving up control. She knows it. That is why she willingly drank the aruha. And that is why Darius has chosen her. The thought had occurred to him several times before, but it did not really hit home until he looked into her brown eyes, took in the sight of her brown curls lit by the morning sun, the sheets draped over her curves in a way that made him think she might be a goddess in human form, sent down to either save them or destroy them.

  “Hi,” she said softly, blinking once and looking down at the bed before holding the eye contact again. She looked shy, almost ashamed. Was it an act? Did she even know if it was an act?

  “Hello,” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded and murmured. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know what I am. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  Ephraim took a breath, frowning as he wondered how to play this. Everything about this woman seemed genuine right then—the orgasm, the confusion, the shame, the uncertainty. But at the same time she’d willingly stepped into this situation, hadn’t she? She’d come to London on Darius’s arm, allowed Ephraim to take her, and then collapsed into his arms as she came at his command. Who was playing whom? Who was the seducer and who was being seduced? Who was the researcher and who was the goddamn lab rat? He thought he knew the answer—that all three of them were her lab rats—but he needed to hear her say it. He needed to hear her tell him the truth.

  “You are here because you want to be here,” he said. “Yes?”

  She took a breath and blinked, and there was that flash of shame. But when she looked into his eyes again the shame was gone, as if by an act of her own will. “Yes,” she said.

  “Why?” Ephraim said firmly.

  “Because . . . because . . . oh, God, I don’t even know how to explain it. I can’t even begin to understand it myself. It seems mad.”

  “That is a good start to understanding it. Yes, it is mad. Go on. Tell me. Tell me everything. Do not worry about whether it makes sense. Just talk. It is just the two of us.” He reached out and touched her brown hair that seemed infused with the gold of sunlight. That chill went through him again as he did it, and he felt her shudder under his careful caress. Would she be honest about why she was here, about what Darius was thinking? Did he even care as he lay here beside her, her scent overwhelming him, just a thin sheet separating her body from his.

  “Just the two of us . . .” she whispered, a smile breaking on her pretty round face. “That’s what makes it so mad. It’s not just the two of us!”

  Ephraim exhaled slowly as that chill spread to his entire body, somehow warming him to the core. Now he knew Darius had slept with her. He’d suspected it, but to hear her say it was something else. A flash of anger passed through him, and he hated himself for it. Jealousy? Over a woman you have not even slept with yet? Or is it that fire of competition? “No, it is not just the two of us. And it will never be just the two of us. That is what Darius wants, yes? That is how he convinced you to play this game, yes? He offered you the chance of a lifetime to experiment on yourself, to test your own research, to live your own research.” Ephraim paused for a moment as he looked at her expression, which changed for a flash. He needed the full story, even though he suspected he knew. “Something else,” he whispered. “He offered you something else? Wealth? Fame?” She stayed quiet and Ephraim blinked and then his eyes stayed steady. “Marriage? He offered you a chance to be the wife of a Sheikh?”

  Her eyes narrowed and her smile tightened. She was quiet for a moment, as if wondering how much to tell him. Then she spoke, and from her tone Ephraim knew she’d decided to tell him everything. “The chance to be the wife of two Sheikhs. The chance to prevent a war. The chance to . . . to be queen.”

  The last word came out in a whisper, and Ephraim saw it on her face as the adrenaline surged through his body. He saw everything in her eyes in that moment. He saw her.

  Ambition. Strength. Power. But also compassion and a sense of adventure. He could see now why she said she couldn’t understand all the reasons she was doing this: It was because there were many reasons, all of them intertwined, all of them arising from who she was.

  “The wife of two Sheikhs, and the queen of two kingdoms,” he said, frowning and narrowing his eyes as he caressed her face and then held on to a fistful of her hair as she winced. “So that is why you came here? To seduce me into giving up my kingdom? A little ambitious, don’t you think? Not to mention ridiculous.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Jan whispered through a hesitant smile. “But don’t act like you didn’t guess this was Darius’s idea.”

  “I guessed no such thing. I assumed Darius sent you to seduce me and then assassinate me with poison or a dagger to my throat.”

  “Now that’s ridiculous,” she whispered, looking down at his naked body and then slowly reaching for his cock. “Why would I kill the man who’s going to make me his queen?”

  “Ya Allah,” Ephraim groaned as she stroked his cock with her fingertips, the sensation almost making him come all over the sheets. “Who are you, woman? And why have I not had you tossed out into the street yet?”

  “For the same reason you brought me here,” Jan said. “You guessed what Darius is offering. And you’re considering taking him up on that offer.” Slowly she curled her fingers around his swollen mast, and he groaned and stretched his neck as he went so stiff he almost passed out. “You’re considering it very seriously, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

  She was jerking him back and forth as she spoke, and Ephraim’s mind began to spin as a devilish grin broke on his face. He was in it now, he realized. In the goddamn arena. In her goddamn arena!

  “Remind me again. What is Darius offering?” he muttered.

  “Me,” she whispered, leaning up on her elbow as the sheets fell away once more and the golden light bathed her naked body in a glow that Ephraim swore was not of the earth. “He is offering me.”

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nbsp; 19

  Jan wasn’t sure if she felt more like a goddess or a whore when she went up on an elbow and pulled the sheets away from her body. She was wet again—that much she couldn’t deny. What she was doing aroused her to the point of madness. It must be madness. It had to be madness.

  Ephraim felt huge in her hands, his cock so thick she couldn’t get her fist to close all the way around. The thought of taking him inside her almost scared her, and she wondered if she’d even be able to stretch that wide. Ephraim wasn’t as long as Darius, and shit, Darius had gone into her so damned deep she could still feel him in there. But Ephraim’s girth was shocking, and he seemed to be getting bigger and harder as she jerked his dark foreskin to and fro, massaging his mammoth balls as he groaned and grunted.

  “Me,” she heard herself say. “Darius is offering me.”

  Ephraim stared at her for a moment, his look hard to interpret. Then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her hard as he pressed his body against hers, driving his tongue deep into her mouth as he rolled his naked body on top of her, ripping the sheets away from between them as he did it. She gasped as she struggled for breath under his weight, and the sensation of breathlessness combined with the feeling of his cock pressed up against the front of her mound made her moan out loud as she returned his kiss. He began to move on top of her, kissing her with fury, his cock rubbing against her matted pubic hair ferociously, opening up her slit lengthwise, grinding against her clit so hard she almost cried out.

  Jan closed her eyes and spread her legs, letting Ephraim kiss her deep and hard as the thought of that heavy cock pushing past her dark nether lips invaded her mind. She moaned as she felt him reach down between them and guide his cockhead to her entrance, and she grimaced as she felt it press against her slick opening.

  “I’m going to take you,” he whispered into her ear, his voice deep and throaty, his hips poised above her spread-out thighs, his cock pressing its way forward as the folds of her pussy began to open like a flower in the morning as he forced his way in. “But I cannot guarantee I will give you back.”