Sheikh's Purchased Princess

by Sophia Lynn

  She could see the darkness in Adnan's gaze, and when he offered her his arm, she could feel the tension running through it. She found him squiring her around the museum, ostensibly looking at the art. She wondered briefly at how smooth he was at it, how natural he made it look.

  “I think that you are trying to taunt me,” he said conversationally. “I'm wondering why you are doing that.”

  She lifted her chin defiantly. He wasn't going to bully her, even when he had all the cards in his hand.

  “Maybe I think you need to be taunted,” she retorted. “Maybe I think that at the end of the day, if no one does, you'll turn into a boring man who does little for himself or for the people around him.”

  To her surprise, he chuckled a little at that. “You may be right,” he said, and she warmed to hear him sounding so much like himself. “It has…been a strange time for me.”

  “You think you are the only one?” she muttered, and that surprised another chuckle out of him.

  “No, certainly not. What you have gone through could fill a book. I have forgotten that things must be very strange for you as well right now. Forgive me?”

  “I do,” she said in surprise. “Of course I will. Only, it is not always easy.”

  “Oh?”

  “To be here. To be surrounded by this…this world that is so foreign to me, and that I know I will only be leaving.”

  She felt him tense. For a moment, she longed for him to correct her. She wanted him to tell her that she was his, and that she could not leave, would not be allowed to leave. She wanted to hear him say that she belonged at his side, just as he belonged at hers.

  Instead, they merely started walking again.

  “Nahr is a beautiful place, full of mystery and wonder, but for a foreigner, I imagine it can be hard. Still, it has been a pleasure to have you here.”

  She flinched at that, her hand tightening on his arm. She didn't want to discuss the end of her time in Nahr. While she was here, she wanted to pretend that it was forever.

  “Well, no matter how it happened, I am so glad you came out tonight. I would not have liked to spend the rest of the evening dodging Samir, and I have a feeling that that is exactly what I would have done.”

  “Good.” She heard a dark edge to his voice.

  She noticed his hand closing on hers just as she realized that they had come to a darker, less-trafficked part of the museum. With no one in sight, he pinned her against the cool marble wall, trapping her there by sheer virtue of his superior weight.

  “In a short while, you may be thousands of miles away,” he murmured. “Right now, however, you are mine, and I do not share what belongs to me.”

  She started to respond to that, but then his mouth was swooping down on hers, capturing her with the intensity of his kiss. There were a dozen reasons why she might have needed him to stop, but the heat of their passions twining around each other burned them all away. She couldn't resist this man, ever.

  Emily threw her arms around him, surrendering to the kiss without a second thought. It didn't matter that she might never see him again in just a few days. It didn't matter who might walk in, or what they might say if they saw them like this. In this moment of time, all that mattered were the two of them and the passion that they shared together.

  When he finally drew back, he had a look of satisfaction in his eyes and a rather smug smile.

  “You're beautiful when you've been well-kissed,” he purred, and she grinned up at him.

  “What a lovely way of paying yourself a compliment, my lord.”

  “I could take you home,” he growled. “I could roll you under me, spread you open, and then when you saw yourself afterward, you would know exactly how beautiful I find you.”

  For a moment, she was utterly taken by his words. In that moment, she could see herself as he saw her, someone beautiful and passionate, consumed by lust and beauty.

  “But…”

  “But what?” he murmured, and she knew that he was going to kiss her again. If he did that, everything would be lost.

  “But I want to see the rest of the exhibit!” she exclaimed, pulling away just as two more people entered the room.

  The look he gave her was one of pure frustration, and she would have laughed out loud if they had been alone. Instead, she merely grinned at him, twining her arm around his again.

  “Come this way,” she said. “There are some art pieces you must see…”

  “You are going to pay for this when we get back to the penthouse,” he murmured, his voice soft.

  “I am counting on it,” she said sweetly, and led him deeper into the museum.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The exhibit on Sheikha Tamar was fascinating, and Emily certainly wasn't feigning her enjoyment at every new piece. Halfway through, a hopeful docent picked up on their interest and offered them a private tour of some of the pieces that weren't on display.

  “Why, that would be lovely!” Emily said brightly, and for the next twenty minutes, she took great pleasure in Adnan's almost audible growl.

  When they were finally alone in the limousine, he put up the privacy glass and pulled her into his arms.

  “Do you have any idea what happens to women who keep sheikhs waiting?” he growled, his mouth buried against the soft skin of her neck.

  “Hmm, I have no idea, but if it is anything like this, I can see why they do it…”

  She might have said more, but he was sucking on the tender skin of her throat, nibbling and biting in a way that made her gasp with need and want. She could tease all she liked, but at the end of the day, this man excited her ways that she barely understood. This man made her entire body wake up from what felt like a lifetime of sleep, and she would never deny him.

  He pulled her half onto his lap, moving his hands underneath her long tunic, looking for bare skin. She could feel his hands on her soft flesh, and she had never hated clothes more than she did just then. She wanted nothing more than to be utterly naked for him, to be spread out and devoured.

  “I want you,” she murmured. “Please, I want you…”

  He groaned at her words, and Emily thrilled at the response she could evoke from him. In moments like this, when he looked up at her with something close to desperation, she felt as if they were equal. It didn't matter if the entire world was watching her. In that moment, all she wanted was to be with this man.

  They kissed each other with agonizing slowness and depth, simply unable to get enough. When the limousine came to a halt in front of the building, they both tensed, and for a moment, Emily had no idea how she was going to survive the trip up to the penthouse. They stepped into the elevator together, giving Emily just enough time to catch her breath.

  She could all but feel Adnan's eyes on her. He was tracking her like a big cat tracked its prey, taking in her every motion. The moment the penthouse doors closed behind them, he swept her up in his arms, carrying her to bed.

  “That was a nice night,” she said brightly, hopping down. “I'm ready to get some sleep, aren't you?”

  The look on his face was pure shock, and she couldn't hold it together any longer. She broke into a laugh as she skipped back from him.

  “You are a singularly frustrating woman,” Adnan said, staring at her from across the room. With his open tuxedo jacket, his hair rumpled from her fingers, she thought he had never looked so handsome.

  “Am I?” she asked, stretching it out like a taunt. “And what do you think you are going to do about it?”

  She hadn't forgotten how fast he could move, not at all, but it was still a shock when he crossed the space between them with such speed. In the space of a breath, he captured her, his mouth crushing hers in a hungry kiss. It felt like it had been years, not hours, since they’d last embraced, and throwing all caution and fears of what tomorrow would bring to the winds, she gave herself up to the kiss.

  He claimed her mouth with a hungry urgency that made her head spin, and then his hot lips moved along h
er jaw, biting at her earlobe and making her gasp with the sensation of it. His hands clutched at her as if he were afraid that she would melt away.

  When her hands went to the fastenings of her tunic, he pulled them away. Instead, he turned her around, planting them on the wall.

  “Keep them there,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “Don't you dare move them.”

  She flexed her palms against the cool surface, whimpering as she felt his hands slide along her sides. There was something utterly masterful about him, perfectly in control…except for her. He was a man in control of an entire country, but when his hands were on her, she could feel a wildness there that never appeared anywhere else.

  He stood behind her, so close that she could feel his legs pressed against hers, the hard rise of his erection against her lower back. She groaned as his hands squeezed her breasts through the thin silk, finding her nipples with unerring accuracy and rolling them between his fingers until they were hard.

  “Oh please,” she murmured, pushing back against him. “Oh please…”

  “It is a good thing you are wearing heels,” he growled. “Otherwise, I would break my back.”

  She started to ask what he meant, but then she gasped with surprise as he rolled her tunic up over her hips. Underneath she wore thin trousers, and those he unbuttoned, letting them drop to her ankles.

  “Well, well, I see that you have been making good use of your allowance,” he purred.

  She blushed, aware of what he had seen. She had of course bought underwear, but she had been unable to resist the pretty, lacy things she had never had the opportunity to buy before. It seemed like such a shame to wear such beautiful clothes over simple cotton. Her panties were far more black lace and imagination than they were cloth.

  Emily held her breath as he traced the edge of the fabric where it cut across her buttock. She knew how dark it was, how fair she looked underneath it. She thought he would simply let it drop to the ground with her trousers, but instead, he took a firm grip on it. With no more warning than that, he tore it from her body easily.

  “I think you should wear things like that all the time,” he growled. “It makes such a satisfying sound when torn, don't you agree?”

  Before she could catch her breath to reply, his hand pressed down between her legs, sliding along her slit and encouraging her to spread her legs.

  “Ah, perfect,” he crooned, “I can see you do agree.”

  Emily thought that if she got any hotter, she would burst into flames. They could both feel heated wetness between her legs. At some point, she had become incredibly aroused by their kiss, by his quick, powerful motions, by the sheer physicality of this man.

  He rocked his hand underneath her, sliding first one finger inside her and then another. Just as she was adjusting herself to this intimate invasion, his other arm looped in front, pushing the tunic aside to touch her clit. She had been waiting for this touch, and she groaned, pressing her forehead against the cool wall.

  “You…you're driving me crazy,” Emily moaned, and then she bit back a high-pitched yelp as his fingers moved faster, more roughly.

  “Good,” he growled. “Then you will have a vague idea how I felt, watching you charm all those men, watching all those eyes on you and knowing that I was the one that you were going home with…knowing that as soon as I got you alone, I was going to do exactly this.”

  He had absolutely no mercy on her, and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She braced herself against the wall, forcing herself to take the waves of pleasure as they washed over her, higher and higher until she knew that she had to crest or she might simply go insane.

  She could feel the heat of her response rise up, but just as she was about to tumble over the edge, Adnan drew his hands away. She was left shaking and quivering, with absolutely no way to draw herself over the edge, and her cry was one of rage and surprise.

  “Adnan!”

  “Beautiful, so beautiful, and so very enchanting when you are right on that razor's edge. I should keep you like this for nights on end. I should draw you out until you can barely remember what a climax is, only that you want it so, so very much.”

  She could feel the heat inside her surge at his words, but he was already shaking his head.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart, I could never be so cruel. Right now, what I want is your pleasure, and you are going to find it with me buried deep inside you.”

  His hands moved to her hips, lifting her ever so slightly so that she was in the perfect position. For just a bare moment, she could feel the blunt tip of his manhood pressed against her hot entrance, and then he pushed inside her. He entered her with one long slow thrust, and he did not stop until he was buried to the hilt.

  For a moment, they simply breathed together. She could feel her palms sliding against the wall. Adnan's grip on her hips made her feel absurdly small and delicate. He overwhelmed her, and she loved every single moment of it.

  “Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice rough and dark. “Does it feel good to have me so close, so deep inside you?”

  She knew with a kind of heart-deep instinct that he wouldn't move, would stop entirely, if she didn't say yes. Her love for this man swelled up, and it nearly spilled out of her lips. It would have if she hadn't stopped herself.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes, it feels so damn good…”

  She felt more than heard him sigh as he started to thrust into her, holding her still and steady even as he was slowly losing the iron control that he’d always had as long as she’d known him. Now she could see the core of him, the man of passion who had saved her from a terrible fate. This was the man she loved, this was the man that she couldn't live without, and as he pushed into her again and again, she knew that no matter what he asked her for, she would give it.

  This was who she needed. This was who she loved.

  Adnan's motions grew more uneven, and with every thrust, he threatened to drive her into the wall. She could feel his pleasure start, the way he quivered with need and want. His hands gripped her hips to the point of pain, and she relished the idea of seeing bruises there in the morning.

  “Please, please, I need you,” she whispered. “God above, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything else…”

  Her words tipped him over the edge. He thrust into her one last time, pouring himself deep into her body. She could feel the way he shuddered, and the way he bit her shoulder; it was all perfect, all completely perfect.

  She didn't know she was crying until she felt the tears run down her face, dripping off the point of her chin.

  “Emily?”

  “No, it's all right,” she murmured, but he still pulled out of her gently, lifting her up in his arms to bring her to the bed.

  “This has been happening too often,” he said, coming to rest by her side. “What is the matter?”

  There were a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand ways that she could have answered it, but at the end, she only shook her head.

  “Tomorrow,” she whispered. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

  He looked skeptical at that, but finally he nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

  “All right. Tomorrow.”

  She allowed him to strip her clothes off, and when she slid her nightgown over her head and crawled into bed next to Adnan, she felt as if things might be all right.

  Tomorrow, I'll tell him the truth, she thought. There is nothing to lose, and at the very least, I will go back to New York knowing that I have done everything I could.

  Despite her resolve, her dreams were troubled things, dark and haunted by shadows. She was looking for someone who might help her, but no matter how much she cried out, no one ever came…

  ***

  Adnan did not often confront a problem he could not solve. Where calm logic and a forceful personality failed, his wealth and his position as sheikh often came in to carry the day.

  The truth was, however, that no matter h
ow many victories he had under his belt, there was nothing he could do about this problem, the one that was growing to consume more and more of him.

  Try as he might, he could not come around to a solution for the predicament that he and Emily were in. A month hadn't made him less attracted to her; if anything, it had only cemented his wild need to have her close.

  I need her, he thought, and his heart squeezed with love.

  Yes, love.

  It had taken him too long to realize it, but looking down at her tear-stained sleeping face now, he had to admit that he was in love with the musician from Queens. She was the opposite of everything he had expected the woman he loved to be. He had assumed at some point he would marry a woman of suitable rank and wealth, someone who would bring connections to his business holdings and his country.

  How was he to know that the woman who would capture his heart would be a nearly penniless girl from the United States?

  It was ludicrous, but it had happened, and now he was consumed by the idea of a wedding between them, the happily ever after that the tales always promised and that so few people actually received.

  It seemed the cruelest joke in the world that she did not want him.

  He had suspected it from the first, but her tears this evening had proved it. Even when everything was going well, something in her craved her home. He had gambled on being able to get her out of his system in a month, and at the moment, he could only marvel at how he had lost.

  As he watched her, he saw tears well up behind her closed eyes. She had done this off and on over the last few nights, crying without a sound.

  His heart torn to pieces, he held her, murmuring over and over again that he was going to keep her safe.

  “No, no,” she moaned. “I don't want this. I don't want this. Please.”

  “Then you won't have to anymore,” he whispered. “I promise, little love, I will send you home. I swear.”

  She grew still after that, even if the occasional tears still flowed down her face.

  Adnan took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out. He did this over and over again until he was calm. He had to be calm, and he had to do what was right for both of them.