He wasted no time moving from her breast to kiss her lips, even though she missed his mouth’s caress over her nipple.
She whimpered again, unable to resist him as his tongue probed her, tasting her teeth, massaging her tongue, all while his hands pulled down her pants and started to play with her curls.
There was a slap again on the side of her hip, the sting fresher now the barrier those thin scraps of the harem pants provided was removed.
I’m losing, but I want to. Everything he does keeps beckoning to me. Maybe mother was right about temptation after all.
“Now, take my hand,” he said, linking his with hers. “I want you to feel everything, to let me taste you.”
In a way, she was glad she was blindfolded. It was embarrassing to always blush so brightly, to be so obvious with her shock and naiveté. But she’d never been touched by a man like that, never had one’s tongue tease and tempt her womanhood and her sensitive rosebud at its center. She lifted her legs and allowed him to remove the pants completely, and was left clad in nothing but the silken blindfold and her panties. Barakaa lead her over the woven mats on their tents’ floor, his hand steady on hers. His grip was so firm—she could feel the strength curling through him.
Oh, those hands—ones she’d seen inflict such violence tonight—were back to being gentle. Now, they gently gripped her shoulders and helped ease her onto the mattress. The silk of the sheets caressed her legs like a lover and she had to stifle a wistful sigh, yearning for Barakaa’s touch. But then his hands were on her again, positioning her as he saw fit. She felt his strong palms teasing her knees apart and his fingers playing over the flesh of her stomach and the dip of her belly button.
“You’re so gorgeous, kitten. Always believe me when I tell you that, always know that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
The blushing intensified across her cheeks. Again she wondered how any of that could possibly be true. He was a vastly wealthy CEO, and royalty on top of that. He’d been out with actresses and models on his arms, and was rumored to be attached many times to European royalty. They were all girls who often seemed more like waifs than anything else, and yet here they were, with him worshipping all the curves she’d felt so vulnerable about.
“I…thank you,” she said, sensing that was a response she could make. It was the primitive groans and moans he was trying to elicit from her. For right now, her kind and loving sheikh had returned, and he’d offered her the sweetest words.
I need him to know I appreciate that.
“Now, kitten, I’m going to take off your panties and caress your womanhood with every inch of my tongue, and then make you climax so hard you can’t help but scream,” he said, his tone as confident as it ever was. That was his hallmark, his gift. Sheikh Barakaa Tahan never seemed to doubt anything. “You know the rules, don’t you?”
“Yes, my sheikh,” she said, nodding to emphasize her point since she couldn’t just stare into the hazel depths of his eyes to convey her sincerity.
She felt his fingers then. Digging underneath the edge of her panties, his fingers finally touched the skin that had only been for herself before. Then the cotton was pulled down and she felt the warm desert air on her most secret and sensitive of places.
Long fingers traced through her curls as Barakaa leaned over her; his scent—that spiciness of him—was invading through her nose. It was overtaking her as much as he had started to overtake her life, and she wanted to be consumed by that, to allow him to overrun her, at least for tonight. A larger part of her was thinking that it might even be possible to let this go on forever.
The way he is when it’s just us must mean something.
He had reacted to her virginity as a precious surprise and gift for him and not a cruel joke. Now, he was taking things so slow for her. This was the first time tshe’d had to explain this peculiarity of her upbringing to others. Hiding herself away at college kept her safe—it was too overwhelming to try telling strangers what she was and wasn’t. In her heart, Trudy always assumed that any man would laugh at her inexperience, but Barakaa was treating her as the rarity she was.
Like an heirloom almost, left unspoiled and preserved for him.
His hands were stroking her thighs, and occasionally he’d rake just the tiniest bit of his nails against the soft skin there. The sting of pain mixed with the fires of pleasure danced through her belly, the warmth ignited by his very touch.
She bucked her hips when she felt him lean lower and ghost his hot breath against her pearl, the air tantalizing her nub and making it pulse in time with the blood flowing through her veins and the rhythm of her heartbeat.
He’s not really going to, is he? I know he said, but…
Then he spread her inner lips with his hands, and she felt the soft probing of his tongue in her core, languorous strokes that bespoke of so much more to come. It was almost a promise for tomorrow too, if she was ready. Tomorrow his member would be there as well, more talented and filling her even more completely than this strip of muscle was currently.
Then he must have moved his head up again, because his tongue found her most sensitive bundle of nerves, that rosebud only she’d ever touched. She dug her heels into the mattress at the onslaught of sensation erupting over her skin, and bit her lip so that she wouldn’t scream and break their covenant. The fire was arching up from her belly, even as sparks seemed to sear under her skin with every lick of his tongue against her rosebud.
Barakaa intensified his rhythm. His massive hands gripping her hips so tightly that she knew there’d be slightly marked later on, even as he continued to taste her. She was wet, her juices flowing freely from her, and she’d have been embarrassed if he didn’t seem so adamant to continue lapping that up as eagerly as she produced it.
“You taste every bit as amazing as I thought, kitten, you have such tang underneath, like I knew you would,” he said, breaking away just long enough to add that. But he didn’t give her a respite for long.
Now, he was ramping up to ensure she’d come, to get her over that precipice and into her glorious climax. His tongue moved so fast she had no idea how he could keep up the pace, his hands were digging into her, and she was on fire, every nerve alight. Then it came, that final explosion that made her see stars behind her closed eyelids.
She failed her test then, and screamed his name and every other thing she could imagine, things that her mother would have slapped her for as a child, things that would have earned her a shunning long before Rumspringa.
Trudy was alive in a way she’d never felt before, it was as if every nerve was hypersensitized, as if she’d only been living a muddled half-life before she’d met him. It was as if she’d been colorblind and now she saw the vibrant shades of the rainbow for the first time.
“God!” she screamed again, then blinked in the lamplight as he pulled off her blindfold.
“Oh, kitten,” he said, licking his lips and stroking at his goatee. “I think that you broke our game’s rules,” he said, and she laughed, freer than she’d ever felt before, even as he took her over his knee and slapped her rear a few times with the palm of his hand. “Three should do it,” he said, hunkering down to kiss her derriere to show gentleness after the punishment she’d earned.
After that, she curled into him and fell into a satiated sleep, hoping this version of her sheikh would stay with her always, and that this was the real Barakaa…because this was a man she could certainly grow to love.
Chapter Nine
The oil lamps had gone out over an hour ago, and though his eyelids were heavy with sleep, Barakaa could not yet find slumber. There was his lioness, that fierce woman who was just barely beginning to understand her power, tangled up in his arms. The warmth of her body and the tight curves of her delectable ass called to him, his member already hard against her. But this wasn’t the time for sex. He’d give so much to her tomorrow when they were ready; he’d make the day truly special, so she’d understand that their union was
about him honoring the gift she was going to share with him. It was about the love he felt blossoming in his chest.
Yes, love.
Barakaa had never felt this way for any woman before, although he’d had so many. There was something about his kitten that made him want to see her face every minute of the day, made him want to hear her laugh and see that bright mirth in those alluring indigo eyes of hers. He’d protect her in a heartbeat, even if they disagreed over the definition of “protection,” and he still felt she was far, far too stubborn on that point.
She was everything he’d wanted, both innocence to his own inner turmoil and sometimes tendency toward anger, as well as the strength to stand up to him.
She was his, so much so that stroking her golden locks and holding her against his chest was almost as fulfilling for him as tasting her had been earlier. Yes, he loved this kitten, and soon he hoped she’d see it as well, and no longer shy back from the title. Damn Omar for being so tricky and for knowing him far better than Barakaa knew himself. The old assistant had found him the perfect sheikha and the compliment to his own soul, that piece even Barakaa hadn’t realized was missing.
And it was with a smile he drifted off, thinking of all the ways he’d both pleasure her tomorrow and please her for as long as she let him.
* * *
The blue water was the color of the Aegean, as lovely as any Mediterranean or other hotspot he’d visited in his youth. The Oasis Pool at the Village was another bit of kitsch—granted a higher class kitsch, but still something that was far more touristy than he’d have normally preferred—-a slight bastardization of the Bedouin heritage he laid claim to by benefit of his mother’s side of the family. Still, he knew this would call to his lioness, that view and echo of the way the ancient Middle Eastern world had drawn their water.
He surveyed the palm trees and desert all around them as he sat in the clear, cerulean pool. There were large rocks on the other side of the pool, stacked upon each other, great beige boulders from which water cascaded, like a grotto or a makeshift waterfall. Artificial, yes, but stunning nevertheless.
When Trudy joined him, he tried not to be too disappointed. She’d been enjoying a day of pampering at the spa at his insistence. He wanted her to keep feeling like the sheikha she was destined to be, but he’d hoped when she’d come out and into their quarters that Nadula would have worked her magic and convinced her to try a bikini. However, he was still impressed with the way the one piece clung to her every curve, the crimson of its fabric making her seem even more blond than usual.
“You look amazing, kitten,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her, completely confident in the ways he could and did affect her. “Are you well-rested?”
She grinned back at him and slipped into the pool, swimming over and snuggling against him on the ledge. “It’s quiet here. I thought the pool seemed very crowded overall yesterday.”
Shrugging, he raked his fingers through her hair. “We’re the only two guests here.”
“No we’re not,” she insisted, her eyes wide. “There were at least two dozen people in the dining room last night.”
“I bought out today as a privacy day,” he said, his voice as steady as it always was. It seemed like such an easy thing to do. He was both royalty and had more than compensated the guests and the staff for their so-called trouble. “It was worth it, since now I know that there won’t be any louses grabbing for you,” he finished, reaching down and pinching her ass, as if she’d be confused about what happened yesterday.
“You can’t just do that.”
“I’m a sheikh, kitten, I can do whatever I want.”
“And that’s the other side,” she said, sliding away from him.
No, she doesn’t. Trudy doesn’t get to pull away from me after last night.
Lunging across the submerged rock they sat on, he pinned her shoulders with his hands and kissed her lips, making sure to nibble at her lower lip as he did it, to let his kitten know how much she was truly his.
Trudy stilled and yet her lips responded. When he pulled back, she glared at him with fire in her eyes.
“You can’t just buy people off, control them.”
“It’s what I’ve always done.”
“Is that duty too?” she bit back. “Or is it what your father taught you to be?”
He stopped and shook his head. “Yes, there were things I learned as duty, and how to command a crowd or a boardroom were chief among them, but I’ve always been in charge either way, I crave that. You know that from last night.”
She blushed and bit her lip, and even squirmed a bit in her seat. He bet she was as bothered thinking about their love making as he was hard. “True, but if we’re going to be together, I need to know that you’ll try a little less with control. I’m my own woman and my own engineer. I’m not always at your beck and call, and I’m also not some damsel who needs saving. I wouldn’t want that. I’d never want a man suffocated or punched over me.”
“He touched you”—”
“If the rest of that sentence is some Neanderthal answer of ‘but you’re mine’ then we definitely aren’t compatible.”
But you are. You’ve been mine since I saved your life, since I first tasted you in that alley.
“Fine, but he had no right to grab you.”
“And I agree to that, but I am sure security could have handled it.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m not going to become meek for you.”
“And I wouldn’t want that. Just promise me you won’t assume I’ll always drop my life for you like a toy or a doll, and that you won’t break the jaws of any man who looks at me.”
“He grabbed you and nothing broke, alas,” he lamented. It would have served that insufferable bastard right. Reaching out, he stroked her hair back from her face. “I’ll adjust some, and I’ll do my best, but I’ll always be as fierce as you, kitten. That’s why we match.”
Sighing, she scooted back to him and kissed his cheek. “Sometimes, that’s what makes me so nervous.”
“But you’re not the type to truly be scared, are you?”
Frowning, she quirked her head at him, her hair tousled and wild from all her quick movements, like spun gold spread everywhere. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot, and I can double check things with Google. My point is that I know the toll it takes on someone to leave their family behind, to stop being Amish.”
Her cheeks flared a delicious, enticing pink. “It’s not that impressive. I had my cousin to help take care of me. Then…”
“Then you came halfway across the world for an internship. You’re fascinating to me. You take so many chances,” he said, stroking her cheek, reveling in the soft skin there. “But you have no idea how special you are. So if I promise to hone in my own possessiveness, then you also have to promise to tell me one thing.”
“What?” she asked, her breathy voice calling to his length, making him pulsate with the tattoo of his heart.
“Why did you leave the farm? What were you really hoping for?”
She laughed. “Everything—a career and a life outside of a butter churn and a barn, jeans and fast food, and love.”
“Love?”
“I didn’t want something pre-arranged to a boy I’d known since I was eight. I wanted to choose.”
“And have you found love yet, Trudy?” he asked, crowding over her, kissing her again, biting and tugging at her lower lip.
Unbidden, her hips moved up to grind delectably against his own, her womanhood sliding over his already aching member.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I…I’m ready, Barakaa. Please, make love to me.”
She didn’t have to ask again. Placing his hand on the straps of her swimsuit, he pulled on them and helped her slip out of her outfit. Her body was glorious under water and her breasts—heavy and enticing—were calling to him. Placing his mouth over her right nipple, he sucked at the tip, tugging it delicately into him and tracing
it with his tongue, circling it in a clockwise direction. She moaned and bucked against him and, today, he wasn’t going to play games. There was no control or submission, no silence.
I just want to hear her shout my name. Nothing goes faster to my groin than that, nothing rewards me more.
He joined her in nakedness, quickly shedding his briefs. His erection bobbed in the water and her delicate fingers were finally tracing over it, finally caressing him with the passion he’d always known they’d have. They traced over the length, delicately stroking it and teasing him with a deft touch he’d never come close to simulating. Closing his eyes, he arched his neck back and moaned at the sensation sliding over him, at the way his testicles had pulled tight with need and the feeling of heat in every part of his body.
It was as if his veins had been turned to magma, as if he were a raging volcano like Vesuvius erupting all from her touch. She stroked his tip and he cursed as well, and then pulled away from her clever, clever hands.
She looked up at him, hurt shining in those indigo depths. “I…” Trudy started, biting her lower lip. “Was that not good?”
“No, kitten,” he said, leaning down and suckling at her neck, biting a bit at it, knowing it would create hickies and further mark her as his own with those beautiful bruises of promise. “I just don’t want to be too early. I want to be inside of you.”
“I love you,” she said, blinking those wide, irresistible eyes back at him.
“I love you too,” he said, as he positioned himself over her entrance.
He slid in as slowly as he could, even though the lava in his veins demanded he thrust right into her. But she was new, had never stretched to accommodate any man, let alone one as gifted in girth and length as he. Slow was what she deserved.
She hissed and recoiled for a second and he stroked her hair. “Shh, darling, you just need to relax. It’ll fit, I promise, you just need to take your time,” he comforted, sliding in, inch by delicious inch, feeling the heat of her sheathing him, even as the water around them made everything else weightless. “God, kitten, you’re so hot. I love this.”
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