“Anything, my love,” Omar replied and Amir snorted.
“We want meatball subs from Dave’s.”
Omar seemed entirely composed, “Those are delicious. Tell the cook, and they will find the recipe.”
“No. We want the real thing.”
Now his voice held a hint of irritation, “You know that is impossible.”
Anna made a purring sort of whining sound. “I thought nothing was impossible for you. You told me anything. I won’t be happy—or at all receptive—until I get my mouth on one of those subs.”
As she spoke into the walkie she rubbed her now enormous belly and affected a rather maniacal grin.
Amir coughed in the background, and even though he was trying to whisper, I heard him. “Don’t give into her. Meatballs now? The moon next?”
Omar laughed, and then all four of us chuckled.
Then Omar cleared his throat and put on his commander tone. “So what you are telling me is you will deny my needs until this new urge of yours is sated.”
Anna’s voice went high pitched with amusement, “Exactly.” Then she winked at me.
Omar sighed. “Very well, I’ll send the jet. Tomorrow at lunch, you shall have your wish.”
“Thank you, Master. You are mighty and great, and I will reward you handsomely,” Anna quipped.
Omar sighed again, “Yes dear—is that all?”
“For now.”
Then she made kissy sounds into the handset. I waited to see if the all mighty Omar would respond in same, and when he did, I almost lost it.
I gripped at my crotch in hysteria, “Stop it! I’m gonna pee my pants!” I howled.
Anna seriously said, “Get used to it; I do it all the time now.”
When I caught my breath I lifted a brow and questioned, “Master? Really, Anna—seems a bit much.”
She shrugged and paid attention to the popcorn bowl perched on her stomach. “He likes it when I call him that. Besides, he deserves the title. I might be really smart, but I still need someone stronger than me—he’s my protector.”
I thought about what she’d said, and something softened inside me. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to let another be stronger. Of course, it was that whole giving up my own strong will thing I was still grappling with on a regular basis.
“Yeah, I get that. Amir likes me to call him Alpha. Must be a guy thing.”
“No different than me liking it when Omar calls me his babygirl.” She popped a few kernels in her mouth and then giggled through the words, “Or spanks me till I orgasm.”
***
The next day, promptly at noon, our meatball subs was delivered to the lunch table. The men joined us and four were served. All of them were wrapped in the logo foil I’d grown up with, and piping hot. Omar announced, “I paid them handsomely for the recipe as well. So now, whenever you have this particular craving, we can have it reproduced here in house.”
I was impressed and dug into my food. Moaning and making sounds of pure delight. Amir snarkily commented, “If only she enjoyed other things as much.”
“Hey!” I said around a mouthful of sandwich. “You know full well how much I enjoy other stuff.”
“Me three!” Anna shrieked, and the men both slapped the table in amusement.
I was really enjoying our little foursome and how easy we all were with each other. There were many times I forgot we were far from home and teasing men who ruled their own countries. In the evenings, when they joined us for movies or TV shows, we all cuddled together on our respective couches and joked as if we were all normal, everyday people. Both men were fascinated with American slang and pop culture, so once they understood Anna’s and my weird language, they often got into the jokes with us.
It was perfect.
Chapter Thirteen
Amir and I were communicating better, too, and a lot of my inner tension had eased. He was taking a few tentative steps without the assistance of the parallel bars, and the prognosis seemed good for a full recovery. I had some apprehension about the proposed move to Abu Dhabi, but I’d not voiced my concerns. Tonight though, we retired to our suites early. Part of Amir’s therapy was frequent hot baths followed by thorough massaging of his legs. I’d been learning from the masseuse, and tonight I volunteered for the job.
The tub in our bathroom suite was enormous, and I joined him in the soapy bliss. The only light came from a dozen candles I’d scattered throughout and around the huge tub. I leaned against Amir’s broad chest, and he fondled my bowling-ball-sized belly. His hand wandered up to my heavy, full breasts. My nipples reacted immediately to his touch, and his cock hardened at my back.
Without words he lifted me—the water buoyed my body—and I settled over him, taking him all the way. Fusing us together, he held me with a hand firmly on my center—his huge thumb slowly rotating over my clit—and another gripping my skull and digging into my wet hair. He lifted and lowered me, gliding on my body’s lubrication until we were both covered in goosebumps and about to burst.
It was slow and methodical, and I could feel every inch of his incredible hardness as he made leisurely, delicious love to me. He dominated the scene with his strength and control.
I knew he ached to really fuck me and take me from on top. I knew how he loved to pin me down and make me scream and beg for release. He used to have enough control and strength to do that to me repeatedly, but since the accident, we’d only been able to make love if I was on top, or if I was pleasuring him. I felt how this kind of repetition had grown tiresome for the strong male who liked being in charge.
Now, though, with his upper body strength dictating this session, and his huge hands forcing me to move in his timing, I felt when the old Amir resurfaced. He growled at my ear as he shoved his cock deeply into me, “Yes—this is good—yes—you will beg me for release, female—tell me, Julie. Do you remember who you belong to?”
I panted as his pace increased and the water in the tub sloshed over the edge, “Yes, Amir—oh shit—yes.”
His grip in my hair dragged my head back to his shoulder, and he sucked on the side of my neck and then bit me hard. I yowled and tried to get away from him, but he held me fast. His hand on my mound gripped me harder, using it as a handle.
“Who am I?”
I yelled as a massive climax rolled up through my belly, “Mine!”
His deep chuckle vibrated against my spine. “Yes, princess. Good girl.”
After our romp in the tub, I helped him to the bed. He was now able to use crutches and kind of walk.
I laid on the bed with Amir and slid down his chest. Slipping my way over his hairy sternum, I settled myself on top of him with his slowly deflating cock pinned under my still throbbing center.
“God, I love you, Amir.”
“Yes, my female. I know what you need. I love you to my depths.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, we languished in bed for hours and hours, sending away all the assistants and servants. In just a couple of days, we were scheduled to fly north and to his home country. I’d yet to say anything about once again being ripped from what I knew.
“I’ve been thinking. You understand I only want the best for you?” he said.
I nodded and blinked at him, unsure where he was going with this. “I think it would be best if you stayed here.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he planted a meaty finger over my lips and continued, “Omar would love you to stay and feels it is best for Anna, as well. It is fortuitous the two of you are so close.”
I pondered his suggestion. I’d been secretly thinking the same thing. He was in no position to introduce his American female friend to his family and explain our whole situation to friends he referred to as orthodox in their beliefs. We both knew that assimilating a white girl into the mix was going to take some time and finesse on both our parts. Not to mention the baby I was carrying. I, however, loathed the thought of him being apart from me.
“I guess,�
�� I replied hesitantly. “But I’ll miss you so much. What am I going to do?”
“I’ll return soon. I won’t be able to be apart from you too long. You know that.”
“How will I sleep?” I whined. At this point, I gave him all of the credit for my ability to find rest during the nighttime hours.
He looked genuinely concerned, and I think he liked the fact he had so much power over my insomnia. He’d often boasted it was because he made me feel safe, which I guess was the God’s honest truth.
“We will talk every night, and I will wait to hang up until you’ve fallen asleep. Will that work?” he offered.
I shrugged. “I guess,” I pouted and stuck out my lip. “I can’t believe I feel this way.”
“What way is that my love?” he asked.
I twitched my cheek as I thought about how to explain my feelings. After all, if I insisted he communicate his, I had to do the same.
“Um—well, before I relished my independence and loved being alone—but now, the thought of you being gone sends me into instant despondence. Is that even healthy?”
He nodded and stroked my hair. His succinct answer made me giggle in agreement.
“I’d choose this sickness over my numb state of existence prior to you.”
“Truth.”
***
Amir left, and I cried. Damn my hormones, anyway. And damn how that man had already changed me. I moped around the palace for a few hours, but then Anna insisted we go down into the plaza and buy some new maternity clothes. Since I was almost a foot taller than her, we couldn’t easily share clothes, and I was in desperate need of some pants that would expand.
We were surrounded by her battalion of men, as was normal, and I’d even grown accustomed to the protective entourage. After her kidnapping and then the few random threats shortly following the attack on Omar’s life, she wasn’t permitted to leave the protection of the penthouse without at least a dozen men as guards.
The building she lived in was the tallest in the world, and we rarely left the confines of its boundaries. Everything a person could ever want was somewhere inside the enormous skyscraper. That included shop after shop after boutique of everything and anything a soul could desire. Factor in the unlimited budget her generous and wealthy husband provided, and a shopping trip with Anna was just what the doctor ordered.
She was nearing her due date, but still managed to waddle around just fine. I was about four and half months out and was having more trouble than her. My back ached and every once in a while, I would get horrible cramps. I brushed them off as the baby moving or a tube pinching. I never let it show that I was in discomfort. I was much too stoic for that crap. Women carried and birthed children all over the world—most women, in fact—so I was not going to worry about it.
We had lunch at a little coffee house that made a decent mocha, and I swooned over the steamed milk offering.
“God, I miss Starbucks.”
“I know, me too. I think I’ll order a home cappuccino station and get the chefs to learn how to do it right.”
“The men will say it’s watered down still,” I rejoined.
“Yeah, but they don’t have to drink it. They can stick with their gelatinous battery acid if they want.”
I nodded in agreement. The men did like a form of coffee they had flown in from Morocco and was the consistency of pudding just before it fully set up. It was incredibly strong, and the one time I tried some, I bounced around the house like a freakin’ energizer bunny on crack.
“I can’t wait till I can drink the real stuff, though. Decaf just isn’t the same.”
“Yeah, but at least you might sleep tonight. And it’s better for the baby.”
I sardonically replied, “Better for the baby. I miss everything that’s better for the baby.” We both made sounds of loss at the few things we’d given up. For Anna it was also coffee and wine. For me, it was good whiskey. I absently said, “I think I might have almost been an alcoholic.”
“Really? You think? You did drink a lot, but it didn’t seem out of control to me.”
I shrugged, “Not a day went by. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Well, now you’ll be more aware. Do you think you’ll want more kids? You know, after this one?” she asked.
I think the look on my face was answer enough and she snickered. “Yeah, didn’t think so. I want at least two more—maybe even three or four more.”
My tone was totally sarcastic, “Oh God—shoot me now!”
The next week went similarly, and we began to make a trip down to the coffee house as a regular afternoon foray. It helped me to not feel quite as cooped up. Amir had held true to his word and we talked on the phone every night before bed. He filled me on what he could about his day and I yawned my way through apologizing for how boring I was. I would eventually start to doze off, and we would hang up. I slept, but not that great, and I woke often during the night. I really hated how much I missed my man. It made me feel like a stupid little girl.
Anna’s due date was only two weeks away and the house was collectively abuzz in preparations. Her personal midwife was already living in residence and the doctor was on call and within fifteen minutes until further notice. Today after her checkup, I’d asked to talk to the doctor.
I told him about the ever increasing cramps and that I’d spotted some blood yesterday. He did an ultrasound and couldn’t see anything visibly out of the ordinary. He prescribed bed rest, however, and I was hesitant to obey. I didn’t tell anyone that was the prescribed course of treatment, and I continued to hide the ever increasing pains in my abdomen.
It had been four weeks since Amir left, and he promised to return by the end of this week. On this particular morning, I found it difficult and very painful to get out of bed. So I ordered some breakfast in, and I slept a good part of the early afternoon. I nibbled at the eggs and sipped a tiny bit of juice, but then had to rush to the bathroom and vomit—something I’d not been inflicted with for well over two months. I went back to bed and dozed.
When I woke up, it took me forever to resurface from a blanket of foggy dreams, so it took me a bit to register the bed felt soggy between my legs. When I finally did register what had happened I lifted the covers and immediately began screaming. I was bleeding and it appeared as if I had been for quite a while in my sleep.
Servants rushed to help me, and I was promptly wheeled to the delivery/hospital room set up on the bottom floor of the three-story palace. The doctor was called, and I passed out just after he arrived. Later I was told it was a miracle I woke at all after that much blood loss. All I continued to whimper was, “The baby—no, the baby! Amsi has to survive.”
Amir and I had been deliberating over names for months now. I wanted something strong and American sounding—like my dad’s name of Aaron or my uncle’s, Able. He wouldn’t sign off any Christian names, and although I understood, it still irked me that he was so stubborn on the subject. He said the boy must carry his Father’s first name, and of course his last, but what we called him and his middle names were a flexible matter.
Then he suggested the name, Amsi, which was an Egyptian name with a multiple meanings, one which was to be a prosperous and generous leader. I rolled it around in my head and decided I could live with it. After another day of pondering, and the child in my womb had his name, and I began to refer to him Amsi. His full name was to be Amir Aaron Amsi Rashid and that made me happy.
But now I was scared.
Was something wrong with me? With my unborn child? My little pPrince?
Chapter Fifteen
I woke to hear Amir’s strong voice in the hall. He was discussing something with someone, and all I knew was that it was him. They were speaking Arabic. I picked up a few words since I’d been learning—Child, wife, and something about prayers. I felt horrible and reflexively stroked my stomach. Amsi wiggled and pushed a tiny foot against my palm. I broke into tears. Thank God he was okay. My momma bear instincts had apparently k
icked in, and I was willing to die if it meant he would survive.
Amir entered, and I weakly grinned. The look of genuine concern on his face slew the last of my sanity, and I began balling hysterically. He rushed to me, and I cry-talked my way through an apology for not obeying the doctor and not telling someone sooner about the pains. He patted my hand and then silenced me with a kiss. I totally missed the fact he’d walked in on his own two feet.
“Calm, my precious. I only understood part of that. Slow down.”
I sniffed and rubbed my nose with the bed sheet, “You’re walking. Oh Amir! You’re walking!”
“That is of little consequence. How are you feeling?”
“I think Amsi is okay. Here feel him…” I took Amir’s hand and put it where mine had been. His face shifted from a moment of confusion and then elation, and then his chin began to quiver and his eyes welled.
“Oh my.” he choked out.
“You’re walking?” I again asked.
He grinned and nodded. “Yes, it is my surprise to you. I still need a cane.” He lifted a fancy wooden walking stick. “Yes, my love. The strength is slow to return, but it is. I can feel I will be a whole man yet again.”
Amsi kicked again, and Amir’s face lit up. I sniffed more, “He’s really strong. I think he’s okay.”
Amir turned all of his attention back on me, “You are more important, Julie. I told the doctors if there was a choice, you were more important.”
My heart swelled and then cracked, exploding into a tiny million pieces. I’d never been loved the way this man loved me.
“No! No Amir. He is more important! He is all that is important!” I gripped at his hand with both of mine and my grasp was feeble, “You promise me right now, Amir Rashid—promise me you will do everything in your power to save our child.”
His lips lifted on only one side of his face. “You are such a strong-willed female. I admire your determination. I love you.”
“You didn’t promise me, Amir. I’m serious!” I pushed the covers off my stomach and held it on both sides. “He is more important than me. Promise me this right now!”
The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 6) Page 5
