by Sophia Lynn
"I want all of him," she murmured to the silent room, and at that point, she wasn't even startled at herself.
Anna took a deep breath and got to work. When all else failed, there was always work, and she could take a great deal of joy in doing it and doing it well. The books didn't care if she was plain or if she didn't wear beautiful dresses. All that mattered was that she do a good job, one that she was proud to say that few people in the world could do as well as she could.
Anna immersed herself in her work, and even if a part of her yearned for the man who had become part of her life in some elemental way, she ignored it. There was work to be done, and that was enough. That was what mattered.
She had no idea when Rakim entered the library. Instead, Anna simply turned around and found him with one shoulder hitched up on the shelf, watching her. For once, there was no smile on his face. Instead there was a thoughtful look, and something in her told her that this one was more dangerous.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth at how it sounded. "I mean, I'm sorry, what a silly thing to ask. You don't have to answer, of course."
"I was thinking about you," he said, cutting through her nervous excuses. "I was at work, and somehow, I found that I could not do anything except think of you. And so I left my work, and I came here instead to learn more about that."
"More about that?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Yes. You must understand, I am a man who can have nearly any woman in the world."
She found herself scowling at that. It might have been true, but it sounded like the worst kind of boast.
"Think much of yourself?" she murmured, and he laughed at that.
"Of course I do. I am the sheikh of one of the wealthiest countries in the world. But right now, that is neither here nor there. Somehow, despite all of that, the only person that I find myself thinking about...is you."
The words were simply spoken and soft, but somehow, they hit her with the force of a blow. She looked at him, clutching a book to her chest.
He looked away briefly, and when he looked back at her, there was that slightly smug, slightly superior grin that she wished she didn't find so appealing.
"When we first officially met, you addressed me as 'Your Highness,'" he said, and Anna felt like her head was going to spin right off from the change in conversation.
"Yes," she said after a moment of getting her bearings. "That was what the solicitor told me to call you. He told me that it was the only appropriate form of address for you."
"That is true these days," he said. "There are other terms if you are a minister or if you are nobility yourself, but once upon a time, things were quite different."
Anna swallowed, because she knew history. She had done a great deal of reading about the UAE before she came to stay, and she knew more than most people about the sheikhs who had once ruled the country.
He tilted his head to look at her, and for a moment, Anna thought of panthers and other animals that hunted at night. Rakim looked like he was wondering if she was worth the trouble to chase down, and a shiver traveled down her spine.
"Do you know what the people who worked in the palace used to call the sheikh?" Rakim asked mildly.
"I do," Anna said, "or at least, I know what it was meant to be in English. I don't know if I can recall the Arabic term. It was archaic, and I know it's not a modern word at all."
She swallowed hard, because she knew she was babbling. Deep in her heart, she knew what was coming next.
"I think the English will do for right now," he said, his tone perfectly even and smooth.
"It was 'master,'" Anna said, her voice little more than a breath. "The word that they used translates to 'master.'"
Something in her woke up with that single word. She tried to push it down again, but somehow she couldn't. There was power in that word that she didn't understand. It both repelled her and fascinated her, and without thinking, she took a step closer to Rakim.
He smiled at her as if he knew about the feelings that were boiling inside her. When he spoke, however, his voice was only curious, as if they were only passing the time in his magnificent library.
"What do you think of the servants using that term, and not something more earthly, like 'lord' or 'sheikh'?"
Anna wasn't sure that she could speak. It was as if a heavy velvet weight had descended over her, something beautiful and rich, even if it would not allow her to talk or to think. She shook off the haze as best she could, and she made herself meet his bright blue gaze.
"I think it was a reminder," she said softly. "I think that it reaffirmed their loyalty to the sheikh every time that they said it. With 'lord' or 'sheikh,' they only remembered the position, the man who sat far away from them and whom they might not see for months or years on end."
"I see. And what does master mean, then?"
She took a deep breath. A part of her wished that she could turn her eyes away from him, but the rest of her, the part that lived deep and would not rise up for anything less than complete satisfaction demurred. That part wanted to drown in him.
"Master is something different," Anna said, her voice little more than a whisper. "A master is a man who wields power over you. Who controls your world. Even if he is not there every day, his power is felt, and you know it to be very, very real."
"I see."
Rakim took a step towards her, and she almost took a step back. What stopped her was how much she wanted to be close to him.
"And would you call me your sheikh or your lord?"
Anna felt chills run through her body. She wanted to run, but she couldn't tell if that meant she wanted to run towards him or away from him.
"No," she said, her voice barely breaking the silence. Every time she came close to him, she remembered all over again how tall he was. He towered over her, and she thought that if they were outside, he would have blotted out the sun.
"What would you call me, then?" he asked, and it felt as if she might burn up in the heat of his gaze.
"I don't...I don't want to say it," she murmured, dropping her eyes. It was one thing to think such things in the privacy of her own mind and her own bed. It was quite another to find herself saying them out loud in the bright light of day. Making a soft disappointed sound, he touched the very point of her chin with his finger. Rakim tilted her face up until she was looking at him again. Despite the command and dominance of the gesture, there was something gentle there, almost protective, and she understood that even less.
"Yes, you do," he said warmly. "I can tell you do. You know those lovely green eyes of yours, Anna? They allow you no secrets. I can see to the bottom of you, as if you were a clear pool of water."
The sound she made was as soft as a sigh, as longing as a groan. When it came to this man, it felt as if she had no defenses.
"Why do you want this?" she asked softly, and now she could see some teeth in his grin.
"Because I do," he responded. "Because you are beautiful, and I want you, and because it is true. I am the sheikh, and while you stand within my country’s borders, you are mine as well."
She shuddered at his words, and he chuckled, resting his hand alongside her cheek. Instinctively, she nuzzled his palm, and then, startled by her own boldness, she stepped back, looking at him wide-eyed.
"I can see you," he repeated, "and to me, you look like a woman who has had to be independent and strong too often. As if you are all alone, and you would love to sleep forever if only you could be assured of being safe when you do so."
That thing inside her that had awakened with his first touch howled for what he was offering. He was speaking words that felt as if they had been plucked from her soul. She wavered, and he cuffed her wrist loosely in his hand.
"Say it," he said, and this time, the tone of command in his voice was unmistakable.
"Master," she whispered, and the flush on her cheeks had little to do with humiliation. There was nothing humiliating about this.
This was pure need and desire.
"Very good," he purred, and he rewarded her with a kiss.
She had grown accustomed to his kisses to some extent, but this one was light, almost sweet. It didn't last nearly as long as she wanted it to last, and when he pulled away, she sighed with need.
"When I give you an order, I want you to say 'yes, master' and do as I say, all right?" he said.
"Yes," she murmured, and when he raised an eyebrow, she blushed and corrected herself. "Yes, master."
"Very good indeed. Now, I want you to go to the door and lock it. Right now, you are the only thing I want to pay attention to in the world, and I do not want any interruptions."
Anna felt as if she was in a daze when she walked to the door. She hesitated for a moment, her hand on the latch. This was her decision. This would always be her decision. If she truly wished to, she could simply leave. She could turn back to him and say that this wasn't what she wanted, that she wanted him to leave her alone...but it would be a lie. She had spent so long lying to herself about how she wasn't lonely, how she didn't need anything else in her life, and right now, she couldn't take one more lie, especially not one that would take away the wonderful things that Rakim was making her feel.
When Anna returned, she found him sprawled on the scarlet loveseat near the window, his legs spread wide and one arm thrown over the back. In his black traditional robes and trousers, he looked lordly, as if she were some treasure someone had offered him that he wasn't yet sure if he would accept.
"You paused at the door. Tell me what you were thinking there."
"Yes, master," she said, and the words felt like honey on her tongue. She savored them for a moment, and then she continued. "I wondered whether I should leave, whether I should flee. This...this is so much. This is more than I have ever dreamed of, let alone experienced."
He raised one eyebrow at her. She noticed in a dreamlike way that his brows were dark and fine, like slashes of black ink.
"And yet you came back."
"Yes, master. I...I couldn't think of anything I wanted more."
His grin was wide and triumphant.
"What a precious little treasure you are," he purred. "I shall have to be very certain to take care of you and treat you right."
"Really?" she asked, startled, and he laughed.
"Oh yes. Perhaps one sign of your rarity is that you have no idea how rare you truly are."
She had no idea what he was talking about, but then she realized that it didn't matter at all as he held his hand out to her.
"Come here. Sit with me."
She took his hand, guessing that he would bring her close to sit next to him. Instead, he brought her between his legs to sit on one hard thigh. She gave a tiny gasp when she rested her full weight on him, and then nearly yelped as he tipped her against his chest. With one arm curled comfortably around her, she was as secure as if she were sitting on a chair, but there was an indefinable sense of danger and desire mixed all around them.
"You are a little mystery in some ways," Rakim said, his voice low. "I have thought of you, I have watched you, and I have found more puzzles than answers."
"Perhaps you should ask more questions," she murmured, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I am usually receptive to such."
He laughed, but there was a dangerous note to it.
"You should be very careful of teasing me, little librarian," he murmured. His words made goose bumps rise up under her sweater.
"Or what, master?" she asked, putting a deliberate emphasis on the word. For a moment, she wondered if she had gone too far, but there was still that slight smile on his face.
"Or I'm going to make you undress for me."
"You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I? Unbutton the first three buttons on your sweater."
For a moment, she wanted to resist, but there was such an illicit thrill to being told to undo her clothes that her hands seemed to reach for her buttons all on their own. Swallowing hard, Anna undid the first three buttons before dropping her hands down to her lap. It wasn't like she was showing a great deal of skin, but she felt more vulnerable than she had before.
"Very lovely," he purred with satisfaction. "So lovely that I might let that insolence slide."
She opened her mouth to say that that was easy, but then he bent his head to the exposed V of skin and started kissing her. His soft lips against the bared skin of her throat made her whimper, and her hands clenched hard on his clothes. His arms were around her, keeping her steady, and that was a good thing because the pleasure that pulsed through her made her feel almost faint.
Anna had read about erogenous zones, but she had never imagined that baring a few inches of her throat would reveal one. It was as if the nerves in that area had become amazingly sensitive, and she clung to him, whimpering for more.
When he pulled back, Rakim licked his lips. She could tell that there was trouble brewing in his blue eyes before he spoke.
"Now undo the rest."
“What did I do?" she asked, momentarily stung.
He laughed at the offended sound of her voice, kissing her forehead sweetly.
"Nothing at all, beauty," Rakim said. "I swear, nothing at all. However, one of my rights as your master is that I am allowed to do as I like, and at the moment? I am commanding you to unbutton your shirt."
For some reason that she couldn't quite understand, his words sent a pang of need through her. Rakim could punish her whenever he wanted. He was in control, and it was all she wanted to give in to his greater strength, his dominance.
Twice, she brought her hands up to the buttons, and twice, she let them fall again. It felt as if she was committing to something, as if she was saying yes to something that she didn't understand. A part of her wanted nothing more than to run away, to get to some place quiet where she could think and truly understand what was going on.
I have been quiet all my life, it occurred to her. The thought felt like a loss, and in response, she lifted her chin as proudly as she could and undid the final buttons.
What am I worried about anyway? Anna thought to herself. It's not like there isn't a tank top underneath.
“That is a very good woman,” Rakim murmured, kissing her lightly as a reward. “Perfect little one, giving me exactly what I want and doing exactly as I command.”
She purred at the praise before she remembered herself and fell silent. Sometime soon, Anna realized, she was going to need to figure out what it was in her that wanted to obey him, and that felt an exciting tremor run through her when he spoke to her like that.
“You don't believe me when I tell you that you are beautiful,” he murmured. “Perhaps you will believe me when I show you.”
Show me...?
Anna could only begin to imagine what that meant, and then she gasped in surprise. With that casual strength that she had only glimpsed before, Rakim grasped the front of her tank top in two hands and simply split it open. The fabric parted with a rough purring sound, leaving her wearing the shreds of her top.
With a soft cry, her hands came up to cover her breasts. For some reason, Anna's brain was fastened on the idea that her bra was so plain. Surely women who did things like this, sat on the laps of stunningly good-looking and wealthy men, didn't wear beige undergarments? She was stammering about dull underwear and being utterly ridiculous when Rakim grasped her wrists with his hands.
He was gentle but firm when he pulled them away from her breasts, and then he simply waited until she fell into silence.
“I do not do this with women I do not find attractive,” he said, and she thought that his tone was strangely kind, despite what they were doing. “You are beautiful. You shine like the moon's reflection on the water, and I want nothing more than to touch you.”
“So why don't you?”
Anna gasped at the words that fell so nakedly out of her mouth, and she tried to bury her face in Rakim's shoulder again. However, he wouldn't release her wrists, and he chuckled in
amazement at her boldness.
“I had thought that you were a shy thing,” he purred, “and yet here you are, teasing me and challenging me as if you hadn't a care in the world.”
“That's not what I was doing,” she protested, but it sounded weak even to her own ears. “I was just...just...”
“I think you were going to ask me for what you want,” Rakim said. “Call me what you should, and ask me for what you want. If you do it well enough, I might even give it to you.”
“Do...do you want me to beg?” she asked, her voice shaky. She wasn't sure she could. The idea of being on her knees in front of him, her head pressed to the carpet like all of those woodcuts she had seen of the ancient sheikhs, surely it was too much…
“I want you to ask,” he said with that strange kindness again. “If I want you to beg, believe me, I will let you know.”
By now, there was no thought in her mind of trying to get away. She and Rakim lived in this strange world together now, just the two of them, and there was nothing in her that wanted to leave. He was the world, and the only thing she had to worry about was pleasing him. If it pleased him that she sat here in the shreds of her clothing, bare down to the waistband of her jeans except for her dull bra, then that was that. Of course, he wanted more than that now, and she took a deep breath.
“Please,” she said, flinching at how small and frail her voice sounded. “Please, I want you to...to kiss me. To touch me. I...when I think about you, sometimes I feel like I'm standing in the eye of the hurricane. Everywhere I go, every move I could make, it all feels so dangerous, and the only thing I can do is to stand still. Please give me what I think we both want. We both...we both want to be touched, to be held, to see where we can go...please?”
She barely had any voice left by the time her plea was done. She felt unaccountably close to tears, and her heart somehow felt very tender.
In their interactions, Rakim had never been what she would have called tender, but she thought that something softened in him then. Instead of telling her to keep on talking or teasing her, he simply gathered her close to his chest. Somehow, that was exactly what she needed, and she melted against him, murmuring softly.
