Shared for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 10)
Page 15
“But you are considering it. You are here, and that says everything,” said Darius without missing a beat, and Jan’s breath caught as she saw how Darius was taking control of the conversation without losing his cool.
“All it says is that I am a gambler and a player of games,” Ephraim replied. “That is my identity, and no woman . . .” he paused and glanced at Jan, blinking and then looking away, “. . . no matter who she is, will make me submit. No woman will make me yield.”
Jan could see that Ephraim wasn’t going to yield to any argument, submit to any logic, nod his head and agree with any point Darius made, no matter how reasonable or obvious. He was too stubborn, much more so than Darius, and certainly less willing to accept the vulnerability in himself. He needed to be shown that Jan wasn’t asking either of them to submit to her. She didn’t want that, and she knew it. Not in private, at least. Not when it was the three of them. She’d already submitted to each of them in private. She’d already submitted to both of them together in private. Now it was time to take it a step deeper, a step farther, a step darker. It was time to see if they could submit—not to her, but to each other. After all, this marriage would be three way, and since both men were clearly heterosexual to the point where they were not in the least threatened by being around one another’s naked bodies, Jan knew she’d always be between them, the connection, the shared space, the conduit to this new shared identity that would need to happen before their kingdoms could ever be joined.
Which meant Ephraim needed to be shown that Darius was right about marriage being a commitment to creating a new shared identity, a merging, a union. But Darius needed to be shown something too: that the new identity would only come about as a result of action, not words. Action and experience. And experience was the realm of the body, was it not?
Yes. It was time to move from the realm of words to action once again. But what action? How to bring Ephraim around? How to make him yield by showing him that he would never have to yield at all?! And how to make Darius see that although he had been the first and in a sense would always be the first, he would need to yield to Ephraim too, make way for his co-husband. Make way for Ephraim . . .
Oh, God, she thought as the answer came from the core of her body, making her shudder even though the sun was hot and bright above the three of them. Oh, God, can I do that?
“No,” Jan said, her voice trembling when she realized what had just gone through her mind. “No one is going to make you yield, Ephraim.” She glanced at Darius and then back at Ephraim. “In fact, I am going to ask Darius to yield.” She took a breath and blinked as Darius’s face clouded over with a deep frown. “I’m going to ask him to yield first rights to you, Ephraim.”
“First rights will be determined by whose child you bear first,” growled Darius, shaking his head, still frowning as if he was trying hard to understand what the hell she was playing at. “We have already agreed on that.”
“I’m not talking about the right of first husband. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now there’s another bridge to cross . . .” Jan whispered, slowly standing up, not missing the way both Sheikhs’ cocks moved as she stood there naked before them, her breasts hanging free, her legs firmly together, her dainty triangle looking like dark-brushed gold in the sun as the warm breeze swirled around her naked buttocks, whispering for her to go forth, to go on, to go where she’d never gone before—where no man had ever gone before.
Slowly she walked past the kings and back into the guest house. She found her bag and rummaged through it to find the little jar of virgin coconut oil she’d carried with her. With trembling fingers she opened it and touched the clean, natural lubricant, taking a deep breath and blinking hard before turning and walking back toward the door leading out to where her Sheikhs were waiting.
Silently Jan placed the jar of lubricant on the thick blanket between the two Sheikhs, and then she slowly went down on her knees. Her heart was pounding, her breathing getting heavy as her heat rose even as she saw Darius’s cock filling out in a way that told her the older Sheikh understood.
He may understand what I’m suggesting, but will he accept, Jan wondered as she slowly leaned forward onto her elbows, raising her rear as she heard Ephraim mutter in Arabic and sit up straight, his cock hardening so fast Jan almost gasped.
“Darius was the first to have me,” Jan whispered as that tingle whipped through her core once more when she realized both Sheikhs were fully hard again, rising to their knees behind her, Ephraim stroking his cock as Darius’s erection flexed on its own, the tension mounting as they once again got pulled into the competition of who would mount her first, a competition that she knew would last their entire lives, giving her an excitement that would always make her wet and breathless because of the way it touched a hidden part in her psyche, perhaps her soul. “Nothing can change that. But perhaps we can balance it out.” She turned her head and glanced at Darius, into his green eyes. She was getting to know these men better now, and another shiver passed through her when she allowed herself to admit that perhaps she could truly love both of them, truly bond with each of them as individuals, truly see herself as the wife of two men.
But first the three of us have to strengthen our bond, she told herself. The competition between them when it comes to my sex is arousing and exhilarating, and clearly it gets them going as well. But along with that there needs to be cooperation, a true sharing of my sex, a real balancing of these men’s needs.
“Darius,” she whispered as she held his gaze for a long moment and then glanced quickly at the jar of clear oil. “Are you ready to truly share me with him? Are you prepared? Really and truly prepared?”
Darius moved forward on his knees, his jaw tight, his muscular thighs flexed and thick as his heavy cock bounced gently, its shaft so thick that Jan almost choked in fear when she remembered that Ephraim was even thicker! Can I do this, she wondered as she felt Darius’s hand caress her smooth white buttocks as Ephraim growled in the background like a goddamn animal ready to fight. Can I take this?
“I do not need his permission,” Ephraim said as he moved forward from her left, caressing her thighs from behind as Darius massaged her ass. Ephraim’s fingers moved up from beneath slowly, and Jan could feel her pussy respond with a release of warm wetness as two pairs of hands massaged and rubbed her ass and thighs from behind, their strong fingers kneading and pressing with increasing force until they were massaging the lips of her vagina together from beneath, fingering her until she could barely speak as her juice dripped onto their hands and fingers, her aroma filling the air.
“I asked Darius a question, and I want both of us to await his response,” Jan muttered, trying her damnedest to stay in control as she felt so many fingers enter her that she almost came right there, on all fours in the dirt, like a goddamn animal. She turned her head halfway and glanced at Darius, whose face was peaked with arousal. “Are you prepared to share me, Darius?” she asked again, turning her eyes to the innocent white jar of oil on the blanket and then looking back into his green embers that were ablaze with both recognition and conflict.
Slowly Darius’s hands moved away from beneath her open thighs, up along her sides, grasping her buttocks firmly as Ephraim continued to rub her clit and mound. Then Darius parted her rear crack with his strong hands, and Jan almost fainted when she realized that both Sheikhs were silent and hard, Ephraim to her left, Darius right behind her, both men staring at her clean, dark rear, her most forbidden space, her most virgin place.
“Yes,” Darius whispered as he leaned forward and kissed her rear pucker in a way that almost made Jan choke with the most filthy arousal as she struggled to stay conscious enough to control what was going to happen. “Yes, I am prepared to share you. I am prepared, Jan.”
“Then prepare me,” she moaned as she felt his tongue circle her dark rim from behind. “Prepare me for him.”
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I was first, and I will always be first to her, he thought as he gritted his teeth when he saw Ephraim lean over and massage the top of her crack, just above where Darius was holding her open. Jan knows it, and this is her attempt to create a balance between us. She understands that Ephraim’s ego has different needs from mine, that although we are both proud and stubborn, unyielding and dominant, we are also different men at the heart of it.
Darius glanced up at Ephraim, wondering if the younger Sheikh would break into a mocking smile. But Ephraim was stoic, rigid with arousal, and when he returned the gaze, Darius saw a spark of something that he himself was feeling. He could sense both their cocks getting harder at the same time, that age-old instinct that gets activated when men are sharing one woman, and he knew this would create a bond between them that even a thousand hours of talking would never accomplish.
“Move back, Ephraim,” Darius muttered as he watched Ephraim’s fingers move closer to Jan’s asshole. “Not yet, my brother. I will prepare her for you. For your entry.” He glanced into Ephraim’s eyes again. “Entry to which both she and I yield first rights.”
Ephraim hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting to Darius’s ramrod-straight cock, which was lined up just right. All Darius would have to do was push forward and he would be inside her before either of them could stop him. He could claim her if he wanted. He could invade that space, take it from Ephraim, take it for himself.
The two Sheikhs locked eyes for a long moment, and then finally Ephraim nodded and lifted his hands from Jan’s buttocks, backing away on his knees and then going down on his haunches and taking a breath.
“As you say, brother,” he said, his jaw tight. “If you can control yourself, then I can as well.”
Silence fell upon the three players as the sun moved up in the sky. Jan could smell the pure coconut oil mixing with the aroma of her sex and the scent of the two men. She gasped as Darius slid his middle finger into her anus and carefully slicked her up from the inside, preparing her for his rival. Then she held her breath when Darius withdrew his finger and moved back, parting her rear cheeks one last time before making way for Ephraim.
“Go ahead, Ephraim,” she heard Darius say behind her, and the sensation of one king offering her upturned ass to another was almost too filthy to believe. Was this real? It had to be. It was too insane to be make-believe!
Ephraim was silent, but Jan could feel him move closer to her. She could sense his heavy breathing. She could almost feel the weight of his need.
“She is perfect,” said Ephraim finally, and Jan wasn’t sure if the Sheikh was speaking to Darius or to her. Perhaps to nobody. “Ya Allah, she is perfect!”
“She is ours,” came Darius’s reply, and now Jan caught sight of Darius stepping back and circling around to her front. He caressed her hair and she breathed feverishly from the anticipation, and with a warm smile he held her head against his body as Ephraim pressed the swollen head of his cock to her rear entrance.
“Oh, God, I don’t know if it’ll go,” gasped Jan, her eyes going wide when she realized how much she’d have to open up to take Ephraim’s shocking girth.
“You were made to take me,” whispered Ephraim from behind her. “To take both of us. See, already you are opening up. By God, this feels exquisite. So smooth. So goddamn tight. Ya Allah, I am so hard for you, my queen.”
Jan’s mouth opened wide as Ephraim pushed his shaft past her rear opening and into her anus. Darius had prepared her well, and the passage was smooth. Jan tensed up for a moment, her ring tightening around Ephraim’s cock and making him groan loudly. But he kept pushing, massaging her rump as Darius caressed her hair and held her face close to his chest. Finally she relaxed, and with a final push Ephraim was all the way inside. All the way deep. All the way hers.
Slowly he pumped, each stroke opening her rear canal in a way that made her gurgle and gasp against Darius’s hard body. She could feel Darius’s cock hard against her breasts as Ephraim fucked her ass with increasingly powerful strokes, and soon all three of them were in an erotic rhythm that seemed to be in time with the waves lapping at the shores of the Golden Oasis. Jan could see Darius’s long cock sliding back and forth between her breasts as Ephraim took her from behind, and when Ephraim finally came inside her, his semen pouring into the farthest reaches of her anus, Darius immediately pulled away from her and circled around.
“Oh, God,” Jan groaned when she felt Ephraim pump the last of his load into her with a guttural cry that shook the earth beneath them. And then suddenly he was out of her and Darius was inside, pumping away immediately. “Oh, God, what’s happening?”
The switch happened so quick Jan didn’t completely realize it until Darius was coming, and then suddenly it all became clear, that both Sheikhs had just finished inside her, one after the other.
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One thing follows another, thought Ephraim’s driver as he took one last look at the contents of the car’s trunk. The car was not from the Sheikh’s fleet. It was unmarked and unremarkable. Generic and almost invisible.
The sun was close to setting, and the driver laid out his prayer mat and faced Mecca, bowing his head and calling out the prayers that he knew would be his last. Would he end up in heaven or in hell after this act? Was it an act of treason or patriotism? Was he a terrorist or a hero? Only Allah would decide. And the time for decision had come.
The driver finished his prayer and rolled his mat up for the last time, placing it in the empty passenger’s seat of the car. Then he started the engine and slowly drove past the capital city of Habeetha, toward the north shores of the Golden Oasis, to the military cantonment, where a hundred-thousand restless young men were polishing their weapons and gazing across the shimmering waters towards Noramaar.
“This is the only way,” the driver whispered as he raced the engine and clicked the timer which activated the bomb in the trunk of the car. “If Sheikh Ephraim will not start this war, then I will. Allah-hu-Akbar. May God forgive me.”
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“By Allah, give them the order to pull back or else I will slit your throat right here, Ephraim!”
“Not until I know what is happening, Darius!” roared Ephraim. “My military barracks has been attacked. A bomb has gone off. It is an act of war. How do I know you didn’t plan this to force my hand?”
“Because I am not insane!” shouted Darius, still on the phone with his Council of Ministers, trying on the one hand to calm his generals down while on the other to calm himself down.
Both Sheikhs had gotten phone calls at almost the same time, with Ephraim getting a report that his undisciplined army was already mobilizing to cross the Golden Oasis and attack Noramaar in retaliation for what in their mind was an unprovoked act of war. Darius’s Council had called with the news that they were sending out armed boats to intercept Ephraim’s fleet before they landed on Noramaar’s shores. Suddenly it was war, and no one seemed to know what the hell was going on!
“I knew I could never trust your ambition,” growled Darius, pulling on his shirt and shaking his head in fury. As he grabbed his belt from the ground near the smoldering campfire, his gaze rested on the black box he’d brought with him, and without thinking he snatched it up and flipped it open. He pulled out one of the pistols and cocked the hammer, pointing it squarely at Ephraim and gritting his teeth. “I should end this right now.”
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nbsp; Ephraim straightened to full height, tossing his phone to the ground and glancing at the second pistol, which was still in the case. “Are we going to make it a fair duel, or do you want to simply pull the trigger like a coward?” He snorted. “At least that will prove that you did in fact order the cowardly attack on my troops during the evening prayer.”
Darius closed his eyes tight, feeling his finger tighten on the trigger. But he couldn’t do it, and with a roar he hurled the gun into the bushes and reached for the two daggers. He tossed one into the dirt by Ephraim’s feet and raised the other. “Pick it up,” he snarled, beginning to circle like an animal. “Pick it up, Ephraim.”
Ephraim’s jaw set tight as he held eye contact with the circling Sheikh. Then in a lightning move he dived for the dagger in the dirt, grabbing it and rolling toward Darius, slicing at his knees.
Darius leaped out of the way just in time to avoid getting slashed, and then the fight was on. Jan came stumbling out from the guest house just in time to see the two Sheikhs smash into each other, daggers raised, green eyes wild with anger.
“What the hell is happening?!” she screamed, rushing over to them and then quickly stepping back when she saw the glint of steel as the two Sheikhs wrestled for supremacy. Darius had already drawn blood with a slash to Ephraim’s upper arm, but Ephraim had parried with a slicing uppercut that had Darius staggering backward and touching his side. “Stop it! Both of you! Have you lost touch with reality?! Stop!!”
But either they couldn’t hear or they didn’t give a damn, because they were locked again in combat, both of them gripping the other’s knife-hand, sweat dripping from their brows and torsos as they grunted and groaned in the sun. At the point of near-despair, Jan looked around for help, for anything. Then she saw the remaining gun, still sitting there in the black case, and she grabbed it.