“I will.” He accompanies his response with such an intense look into my eyes that Sunny pretends to swoon.
“Just look at that. True love.” She fans herself.
A quirk of his lips that only I can see, and then Jasim’s kissing me, bending me back over his arm. Sparks fly between us. Nope, nothing to contrive in the attraction department.
“You ready to blow this joint?”
“I…” Suddenly I feel nervous. I might no longer be a virgin, but I don’t know what Jasim will expect of me tonight. Beyond the obvious that is.
A breath of warm air in my ear, and I hear him chuckling, “You’re already anxious about what I’ll do to you. That’s making me hard.”
“You’re cruel.”
He brings my fingers to his mouth, and gently kisses them, “Believe me, habiti, I am.” But his actions belie his words. I wasn’t genuinely scared of him last night, why should I be now? My greatest worry is that my inexperience will disappoint him.
“Come.” He stands and pulls me up with him, then, to my surprise, sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me as if I weigh nothing at all. As if someone’s given a signal, the crowd parts before us. I might not understand Arabic, but I don’t need an interpreter to translate the lewd comments that are thrown at us along our way.
He doesn’t put me down while we cross the dry desert, and then through the stark contrast of the flourishing garden. He continues to hold me as we walk through the palace, and on to royal suite. He takes me inside, kicking the door shut behind him, taking me straight into the bedroom and dropping me on the most elaborately decorated bed I’ve ever seen.
And he doesn’t pause before taking out the knife from the scabbard which I thought was ornamental and holding the tip to the top of my dress. I gasp, and freeze.
“I hope you hadn’t had thoughts of keeping this.”
“Jasim, it must have cost a fortune, you can’t…”
But he can. The blade is so sharp the material offers no greater resistance than butter as he slits it from top to bottom, and pushes it to the sides. My bra is severed, now I’m almost naked before him. Then that last scrap of material goes too.
He looks pleased with himself as he holds the knife up for inspection, “Never saw the point in our ceremonial dress before. But there’s something to be said for it.” Sparing a rueful glance for me he adds, “I’ve been thinking about getting you naked all night. And I just couldn’t wait.”
Then his mirth fades, his breathing quickens, his eyes grow dark, and the Dom has entered the room. His arm stretches out, his hand traces my breasts, and then tightens almost to the point of pain, “You’re mine, habiti. My sub and my wife. I own you.”
I inhale sharply, he’s too intense. But, immediately he reassures me, he can read my reactions so well.
“You still have your safe word. You’ll always have that.”
I close my eyes and open them again, relieved he reminded me.
“Habiti, you hold all the power here. I can only do what you allow.”
In his free hand he still holds the knife, as I nod indicating my understanding, he touches the tip to my neck, making me gasp again, “Keep very still,” he warns me. Is he going to cut me?
I know he won’t intend to, but if I move… I don’t need his instruction, the threat makes me freeze and lay still as stone, holding my breath as he traces the knife down, around my breasts, circling my nipples, then drawing it slowly down my stomach and then further below. I squeeze my eyes shut as he strokes it over that tender part, trying to will my clit not to swell or come out of its protective hood.
Then a sound, and the cold steel is removed from my body to be replaced by his fingers instead. With a sharp inhale, I remember to start breathing again.
“Fuck, you’re already dripping wet.” I know I am. And I also know it shouldn’t have, but the veiled risk of such a sharp blade touching me intimately had turned me on.
He doesn’t bother to remove his headdress as he kneels on the bed, pulling my legs apart, and without any delay his mouth is on me. Tonguing my clit, his eyes meet mine, and my body clenches in anticipation, exhilaration increasing my desire at the sight of this fully clothed dark-skinned sheikh intent on his ministrations. He’s every girl’s wet dream, so handsome, so dominant. He’s mine. Or, at least, for the moment, and however long this marriage lasts. But it’s the present that counts. And I can’t imagine a sight more arousing.
As his mouth works, my eyes roll back in my head, then I force them open again, not wanting to miss a moment of the erotic spectacle. I almost regret that I do, as my body gives an involuntary jerk. The vision in front of me, the smell of exotic perfume in the air, the appreciative sounds he’s making, every one of my senses is filled by this man. I thought he’d aroused me before. He hadn’t even begun.
My muscles are out of my control, my thighs closing round him, trapping him to me. The inner walls of my pussy clenching, as though wishing he was there. My hands fist by my sides, fingernails digging into my skin, as my heart rate speeds up and my breath becomes shallow.
His fingers thrust inside, curling around and finding just the right spot.
“Oh, oh…”
What the? He’s pulled away. My pussy feels empty and my clit’s throbbing so badly.
He’s smirking, pushing apart my thighs to free him, and moving up the bed. Taking my hands in one of his, he searches with the other for something behind the bed, and then, snick. My hands are cuffed behind me.
“This is Nijad’s suite, Nijad’s room, and this is his bed. Designed to his specification.” He informs me, nodding with satisfaction.
My body’s still pulsing, seeking relief. He’s not going to leave me like this, is he?
Leaving me hanging and tied to the bed, my—well, for now anyway—handsome sheikh starts to give me a personal striptease, first discarding his headdress and then shrugging off his robes. Standing in his loose cotton trousers, I see the material straining and outlining his stiff cock. I lick my lips, and then bring my gaze higher, settling on his washboard chest, his rich olive skin gleaming with a slight coating of sweat. If I wasn’t already on the edge, the sight of him would have taken me there.
“Like what you see?” As I feel blood going to my cheeks, he chuckles at my embarrassment.
After staring at me for a few seconds, his lips curl up, suggesting he’s enjoying himself as he opens a drawer beside the bed and takes out a packet. He tears it open, but I can’t see what he’s got in his hands. Putting my chin on my chest, I peer down for a closer view as he palms something over my breast. He clips something on my nipple and I yelp, and gasp.
“Breathe,” his voice is tempered and even.
“It hurts!”
“Give it a moment.”
While it still smarts, the pain starts to turn to something else, sending a zing right down to my already throbbing clit. Then he puts the second of, what I now realise, are nipple clamps on my other protruding bud. Again, that bite of pain, followed by the warmth of increased arousal. I squirm against my restraints.
He pulls on a chain connecting the two, making me cry out, “Oh, I’m going to love torturing you.” His voice holds no sympathy. “There’s a third clamp I can use, but that’s not for today.”
My brow creases as I try to understand him. “Where does that go?”
He huffs a laugh, “Where do you think?”
Widening my eyes, I look at him, “You can’t be serious?” He can’t put something so wicked at that tender throbbing nub.
“Want to try it and see?” His eyes are full of amusement then adds, as I rapidly shake my head, “Be a good girl, then.”
And then I’m flipped over. With his hands on my inner thighs, he pushes them apart, my legs almost too wide. I try to pull them back, if I can rub them together I might be able to get some relief. The clamps now dangling from my tits, gravity adding more torture, only increase the desperation and the feeling of hanging on to some ledge. Please
let me go over, please.
“Jasim…”
“Quiet.” He pushes my forehead to the bed. Again, he reaches across to the drawer, and I shudder at the thought of what he could be getting out now. He folds his hand around it so I can’t see what he’s got. Then I jump, as a trickle of something cold slides down my crack. And then his fingers are circling around my puckered hole, and one’s pushed inside.
“Jasim!” I all but scream and try to get away.
A hand slaps my arse, “I told you to be quiet. You take what I want to give you.” And still his finger probes. “Don’t tense, let me in.” I know it’s Jasim, but the voice that holds no sympathy, makes me feel I’m under a stranger’s control. There’s comfort in knowing I could stop this any moment, but also stimulation in believing I can’t.
I suffer in silence, but no, suffering is not the right word. As my body begins to get used to the invasion, I find it only makes needier, and even more desperate to come. When he moves his finger away, I find I’m mourning the loss of the sensation. But my poor arsehole’s not left unabused for long, now he’s pushing something inside. Something cold and not as yielding as his finger.
“What…?”
With his hand on the small of my back, he holds me in place. “It’s a butt plug. Just a small one,” he explains. “Soon it will be my cock, but I need to prepare you first.”
I don’t think any amount of preparation is going to make that particular part of his anatomy fit inside my small hole, but time later to protest. In fact, I don’t think I could come out with any words right now. The pulling on my nipples, my overstimulated clit, the stretch and weird feeling of the butt plug inside, are taking away my ability to think.
He leans over, and whispers into my ear, “Time for your next lesson. Keep in position, I’ve going to flog you now.”
What?
He starts off so gently, leather strands caressing my skin. A gentle massage which ignites all my parts. Embarrassed, I find I’m almost humping the bed in my desperation to get off. Then he starts to work harder, now there’s a little sting.
“You should see yourself, your skin’s turning the most delightful shade of pink.”
The flails hit between my shoulders, then fall on my bum, on lower to my thighs and then start on the return path. The feeling changes from a massage, to setting me on fire.
“Don’t come.”
What? Doesn’t he know how little it would take to push me over? My nipples are tingling, my whole body feeling electrified. My clit’s throbbing, begging for relief, and my pussy pulses in time. And he’s telling me to hold back? Christ, if he so much as breathes there…
Picking up the flogger again, he flicks my clit. I scream at the intensity of the orgasm which goes through me with hardly any warning at all.
“Naughty girl.” The words might show his displeasure, but his tone suggests I’ve played right into his hands. “Naughty girls who come without permission get punished.”
What? His words only just filter through as my body is shaking, remnants of my orgasm still causing aftershocks to wrack through my body. Only vaguely aware of what’s going on, I hear the sound of a wrapper being opened behind me, and a rubber sheathed cock prodding my pussy.
Then, whack. His large hand spanks my butt cheek, and then another blow to the other. Oh, oh. My clit jumps to life again. He continues to spank me, my nipples feel tender, zings rip up and down my body until I’m not certain where they start and end.
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
Suddenly he pushes into me, all the way, in one smooth stroke until he’s up against my cervix, the plug in my arse making me feel so full. And when he starts moving, there’re new sensations, every nerve seems to come alive.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, habiti.” He picks up the pace and starts hammering inside me. “I’m not going to last long.”
Neither am I. And as he continues to push in and pull out in a punishing rhythm, he hits that special spot inside me time after time. When he leans forward and puts his teeth on my neck, I come with a scream, my pussy clenching and releasing, squeezing hard on his cock.
“Fuck, babe. Fuck!”
I’m so sensitive, I feel him swelling to an almost impossible size, I orgasm again and again, until it becomes continual contractions, my vaginal muscles spasming in sweet agony all on their own.
He loses momentum, his body starts jerking, “Janna!” he yells as he comes.
Chapter 25
Jasim
I’ve played with a lot of women, fucked them too. But the reactions of this woman beneath me take me by surprise for the second time. She’s no skilled sub with practiced responses, every reaction of her body is unrehearsed and unexpected. She tests my competence as a Dom every step of the way, needing me to watch her, to make sure I’m not pushing her too far, too fast, but her tactile encouragement urges me on to take her to different heights and torture her in any number of deviant ways.
And now, once again, she’s drifting in subspace, and I’m finding it hard to fight the urge to get lost in my own head. Quickly, I unfasten the handcuffs, rubbing her arms and wrists to make her comfortable once more. Before I turn her back over, I remove the butt plug, her compliance showing she’s got no idea what I’m doing. Going to the bathroom I dispense with the condom, and wash the plug. Then I’m back with her, removing the nipple clamps, using my mouth to relieve the soreness there. She moans as I take them off, but still isn’t completely aware.
And then I pull her into my arms, holding her close, my chin resting on the top of her head. She’s mine. We’re married. I could keep her forever.
Damn it.
At this precise moment, I’d give anything to be the right man for her. I’ve shown her the side of me I thought I’d need to keep hidden, but nothing I’ve done so far has frightened her off. She could have used her safe word at any time, but she hadn’t given any indication she’d wanted to stop me. I begin to wonder where her boundaries might be—the idea of having her under my whip causes my cock to twitch.
I can’t afford to pretend this is real, or to let her start believing it. Whether she might be able to match my demands or not, sooner or later I’ll get bored and want to move on. I know myself only too well. It’s just the newness that is giving me other ideas. Unlike other subs I’ve played with who already know the score, there’s so much I have to show her, and that will take more than just a few nights. The marriage gives me time to play and explore possibilities I never dreamed off, it’s not hard to resolve to enjoy it while it lasts. Nevertheless, it can only be a temporary arrangement that meets the needs of the moment. I’m not wired to be a man to be content settling down. At some point in the future, she won’t be enough.
But her submissive tendencies are so obvious, having affection for her, I need to consider her future. A vanilla relationship won’t work for her, not after the things I’ve introduced to her. When we’re back in London I’ll take her to the club, and let her get to know some other Doms, maybe one will take her fancy. There’s sufficient confidentiality there that she can perhaps try some out, under my watchful eye, and when the marriage ends, have someone else to lean on. Yes, that’s the sensible thing to do.
That’s a workable solution, my brain suggests, but my arms automatically tighten around her possessively at just the thought of seeing someone else playing with her.
Time, it’s just time, I reassure myself. I’m only naturally greedy and want to keep her for now as my own. Until I’ve taught her everything I can teach her. I covet her innocence, and once I’ve destroyed that, I’ll be able to move on.
A gentle snore makes me smile, and I slide down the bed, wrapping myself around her, once again spooning in the way we’d done that first night, as thought my body is programmed to protect her. It’s not long before I join her in sleep.
I wake before her with a smile of my face as I remember what we did the night before, already planning what I might do when she wakes. But a glance
at my phone shows me I’ve overslept, and already I’m running out of time.
Gently, I shake her shoulder, “Janna, wake up.”
She stretches like a cat, her lithe limbs extending, her arms going up over her head, unintentionally offering her breasts for my examination, the tips still slightly reddened from the nipple clamps last night. My cock throbs, I press the heel of my palm to it. We’ve no time for such pleasure right now.
As her eyes at last open, I speak again. “Good morning, habiti. How are you feeling today?”
Her head turns to face me, “Amazing, Jasim. I feel amazing.”
I press my lips to her forehead, “We’re compatible in bed,” I tell her softly.
“We’re married.” A crease mars her brow as she remembers.
“It’s only a temporary arrangement,” I impress on her, “You won’t have to be tied to me for long.”
A dip of her head shows she understands. A slight frown as she bites her lip, “Jasim, yesterday, the wedding. Last night. I haven’t given a thought to Sally and what she’s going through.” Suddenly she sits up, unaware that she’s naked, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth. “Jas, I’m an awful person. While we were making… having sex. She might be suffering…”
“Hush,” I replace her hand with mine, feeling the softness of her lips beneath my palm, “We couldn’t attempt a rescue last night. There’s nothing to feel guilty about.” Then I realise she’d used the shortening of my name, which only my brothers have applied to date. And I find that I like it.
“Come. Breakfast will be ready, and I need to go and make plans.”
“Are we going to rescue her today?”
Smoothing her hair back with my fingers, I make a promise I hope I’ll be able to keep. “Yes.”
That gets her moving. Her bag has been brought into my brother’s suite which I’m using, and I watch as she selects her clothes and disappears into the bathroom. When I hear the shower running, I grab my robes for the day and use the facilities in the guest bedroom next door, knowing I’ll be too tempted to delay our departure if I join her. As I expected, in our absence a breakfast of pastries and coffee has been delivered to the living room. While we were preparing for the day, discreet servants had silently seen to our needs. As I pour a cup of the thick sticky brew, my mind plays over the night before. The consummation of our marriage.
Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5) Page 24
