“You’re not going fast enough,” he said. “I’m forced to help you.” He yanked them down to her ankles so quickly she gasped. And then he took them in his hands and tore them off her.
“Issam!”
“Was that a protest?” Hands on her hips, her turned her easily to face him, and this was different. It was so different from being pushed up against the wall in the gym, and Mackenzie felt naked.
Well, nearly naked. She kicked off her high heels. “Not a protest,” she said. “Only surprise…”
His eyes raked over her skin, and his hands followed. “You are a surprise every moment of my life.” He leaned forward and pressed a hot kiss to her collarbone, following it with a possessive lick. Mackenzie tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. How could she do anything else? Issam worked his way down to her belly button, to her navel, and then he spread her open with his strong hands. He tipped her back onto the bed so that she was balanced there and opened her another inch. It was so filthy, being exposed this way, and so delicious, and Mackenzie arched in his grip.
“No more surprises,” she said, the words difficult to say against the tide of her pleasure and shame. “You’ve seen everything.”
“There’s a difference between seeing and tasting,” he said, and then Issam lowered his head between her legs.
Mackenzie was lost to his tongue. He devoured her with shocking skill, playing her like a musical instrument. Long strokes of his tongue tortured her, short strokes teased, and when he sucked her clit between his teeth she thought she’d die from the intensity.
The land dispute fell away. Her mission was no longer the thing that drove her forward. It was Issam—his hands, his body. By turns, she strained to spread her legs wider, giving him more access, and pushed against his powerful grip as her body tried to protect her from the waves of desire. They threatened to pull her under.
Issam thrust his tongue into her opening, and she clutched at the comforter on the bed. It was too much.
It was not enough.
“Please,” she begged, forgetting to play the part of the confident, sassy, relentless lawyer. “Please, Issam, please—”
He withdrew his tongue and let his breath linger between her legs. “I love the sound of my name on your lips. Especially after please. Say it again.”
“Please, Issam.”
“Please what?”
“Please—”
“I have you spread out on the bed, completely naked, completely exposed.”
“Yes…” She bucked up against his hands.
“Then why do you have any shame left? Why are you hesitating to ask for what you want?” He stroked two fingers over her wet folds and she groaned in frustration. “Is it this?” He pushed them inside, hooking them forward so that he stroked her g-spot. Fireworks. It was like fireworks, but they were too fleeting for Mackenzie’s taste. She wanted something with more…heft.
“Yes. No. More.” She tilted her hips up, trying to sink into the sensation. “I need you to fuck me.”
“How dirty,” Issam said disapprovingly, and then his hands were gone from her thighs. “An intelligent woman like you, begging to be fucked…” She opened her eyes enough to watch him undo his buckle and shove his pants and boxers to the floor.
The sight of him—the sight of him nearly undid her. He was long and muscular, and his cock was thick, jutting proudly away from his body. Issam took it in his hand, his eyes piercing her.
“This is what you want.” It wasn’t a question.
“Issam.” Her voice was deadly serious. “Please. Please fuck me. I can’t wait any longer. I need—” Words failed her.
He was on her in a flash, pinning her down to the bed and thrusting inside of her in one smooth movement. Mackenzie was overwhelmed by the clean scent of him, by the strength of his thrusts. He filled her, stretching her, and it was as if he was made for her.
It was supposed to be convenient. Not for love. Certainly not for lust. A marriage to let them narrowly avoid death in many stripes.
But right now, with Issam driving into her, Mackenzie felt…fulfilled.
And not just because the head of his cock bumped against the deepest parts of her with every roll of his hips.
The next moment, he pushed in hard and turned them both as if she weighed nothing.
There it was—that feeling of being invincible.
Issam’s hands pulled her down hard onto him, and Mackenzie braced herself against his chest.
“The smartest woman I’ve ever known,” Issam said through clenched teeth. “Riding me with total abandon—”
She rode harder.
Harder.
Until—
“Stop.”
Mackenzie froze. The only sound in the room was their panting breaths.
“Why?” she whispered.
“I want you to feel every moment of this.”
Issam pulsed inside of her, his grip tight enough to bruise her hips, and then he unleashed an orgasm so strong it set her off. Somehow, though she was on top, she felt totally under his control, and the fact of being held in his big hands, unable to escape his pleasure, made hers that much more intense. She clenched around him, and when he pinched one of her nipples between his fingers, she screamed.
He didn’t bother to cover her mouth.
11
The tasting had been a wild success. They had destroyed one of the guest rooms on the terrace level, and Issam had looked at her afterward like he wanted to invite her to his rooms and keep her there forever.
But he hadn’t.
“After the wedding,” he’d said when they finally emerged from the room. Mackenzie’s legs were still shaking. Something flashed across his expression when he said it, but she hadn’t been able to pinpoint the meaning—did he crave honor? Did he not trust her?
Or was he, like her, dazed from the sex they’d had?
In the end, it didn’t matter. She’d slept deeply and restfully and woken before the sunrise, opting to do a quick workout in her rooms. There were tons of bodyweight CrossFit moves that she could put together in an endless routine, and by the time the knock came at her door she was dressed and ready for the day. She’d forsaken her lucky suit and chosen a heather gray sheath dress instead. It would look perfect when she sat at the meeting table across from Issam.
The message came early in the morning, but Mackenzie was ready.
Mackenzie went to the door with her head held high. When she opened it, she found a servant on the other side holding a tray. On the tray was an envelope.
“A message from Sheikh Issam,” the woman said, then dipped her head and went away.
The envelope was thick, high-quality, and Mackenzie took this as a good sign. She tore it open the instant the door clicked closed.
Meet me in my office as soon as you get this.
She pressed the note to her chest. It was all coming together. Things with Issam were heating up personally, and now she’d finally get a seat at the table with the land dispute. And she was already dressed. He wouldn’t have to wait.
Mackenzie hurried through the halls, trying to arrange her face into something less thrilled-to-be-here and more serious international lawyer and negotiator. Still, she couldn’t help beaming when she reached the door of Issam’s office and the guard didn’t even look at her.
Not when she reached for the door handle.
Not when she opened the door and stepped inside.
He didn’t reach into the room and pull her out. She simply pushed the door shut behind her and smiled into the light-filled space.
For one full second.
And then she was not smiling anymore.
It had always been a hive of activity, Issam’s office. When she’d walked by in the hallway or met him for a meal, there were always people inside. He directed a huge staff.
This morning, it was empty.
Completely empty.
The wide main area was silent and still.
“Iss
am?” she called, trying to ignore that little twinge of fear.
A door on the left wall swung open with not a little force, and Issam came in at top speed. The moment she saw him, she knew—something had gone terribly wrong. His face was dark with frustration, maybe even fury, and his eyes were like sparks ready to ignite into a full-blown fire.
“Sit down.”
He moved past her, and she could have sworn that the air around him was cold. She shivered while he flipped the lock on the door and spun back to her.
“I said, sit.”
Mackenzie had never seen this side of him before, but it hit her—of course Issam would be like this, at least some of the time. His life was based around protecting his family and the country from threats big and small. And now she was the threat.
“Where?”
“At my desk.” His voice was sharp.
He went before her to his desk and waited. Issam didn’t sit down, but Mackenzie did, in one of the two chairs in front of it. She forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“Lie to you?” She shook her head. “Issam, I haven’t lied to you. We haven’t gone into the details of—”
“Don’t do that.” He looked disgusted. “Don’t even begin. Why didn’t you tell me that you were removed from Al-Madiza?”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she felt herself tensing, straightening up. She’d had teachers in law school who challenged her like this, and she wasn’t going to break. Not in front of Issam. But she needed the right words. No, things had not gone well with her brother-in-law’s administration. And no, she had not exactly been sent to represent him in the negotiations.
“Answer me. What feud could you possibly have had with the head of military planning in Al-Madiza? Or was it something else?”
She knew exactly what he was accusing her of, but she ignored it, taking a deep breath, facing him coolly. “It wasn’t a feud. It was a difference of opinion.”
Issam looked at her levelly. “What opinion?”
“I had certain opinions about the land dispute. We argued about it. But I didn’t think that should affect things with you. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“How could you possibly—” Issam was incredulous. “You let it be known that you were here on official business.”
“First of all…” Mackenzie’s mind raced. “First of all, I haven’t been officially part of any negotiations. I’ve shared personal opinions with you, but I haven’t divulged any intelligence from Al-Madiza. So even if the understanding was that I was here on official business—”
Issam slammed his fist down on the desktop, making her jump. “Why did you lie to me, Mackenzie? Answer the question!”
Explaining her logic wasn’t going to work, because it hadn’t been a purely logical decision. She could see from the rage on Issam’s face that he did not like being backed into a corner. He needed all the information, and he needed it now. It was time to reveal the full purpose of her visit.
“I couldn’t compromise my mission.”
“Your mission?” Issam’s jaw was clenched tight. “Please. Tell me all about your mission. Is it to get under my skin?” His hands balled up into fists and he released them, slowly, letting out a deep breath as he did. “To gather intelligence to take with you? If your brother-in-law no longer wants you in his country, then perhaps you were thinking of taking it to Caldad. Is that it?”
“Of course not.” It hurt, honestly. It hurt to be accused of being a spy. She looked Issam in the eye. “The fort isn’t only a ruin.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The fort in the no-man’s land.” She was off to a rocky start, but she pressed on. “After Al-Dashalid reinforced the building, it’s served as a safe shelter for women and children. I’m here on their behalf.” She gave a disappointed sigh. “I was trying to impress the importance of their safety on my brother-in-law’s head of military planning. He disagreed.”
Issam paced around behind his desk, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve been here for days. Weeks. When were you planning to tell me that there are women and children sitting right in the center of the danger zone? Their lives are at incredible risk in that fort.”
“Some of them will face worse odds if they’re returned to their hometowns,” she argued. “I had to keep them safe. And I had to convince both countries not to occupy the fort and displace them. My brother-in-law was halfway to agreeing that he’d leave the shelter intact if he occupied the fort, but his military aides disagreed.”
Issam paced faster, already in problem-solving mode. “Something must be done immediately. A separate shelter. Those women and children will be in the direct line of fire if—” He didn’t name the possibility of war.
“That’s great.” Mackenzie jumped to her feet, heart singing. She had been arguing in rooms all across the Middle East for the safety of these people, many of whom were on the run from abusive husbands. “I’ll help you. I can begin drafts of the announcements that will hold up under international law, so that when you formally occupy the no-man’s land—”
Issam silenced her with one raised hand. “No.””
“No?”
He took a deep, steadying breath. “You still haven’t obtained security clearance. We’ll need some sign of good faith before it can be fully considered.”
“Before it can be—” Mackenzie drew herself up to her full height. “You want my intel now.”
“I want your intel two weeks ago,” Issam countered. “I’d have gone in to get those women and their children already.”
“If you’d bothered to listen to me two weeks ago…I can give insight into those documents.” Mackenzie saw one last opportunity to fix this. “I can consult with the people on your team who are in charge of negotiations, and—”
“No. Full-time involvement would be above your clearance level, not to mention that you would be abandoning the wedding planning to my sister and mother.” Issam came around the desk so that he was standing close to Mackenzie. His eyes searched her face. They asked a silent question: Are you going to double-cross me?
“I had to help the women and children,” she said, and hope rose bright and clean through her core. Maybe now he would see. Maybe he would give her a seat at the table.
But Issam was distracted. He looked away, out the window, then glanced back down at Mackenzie. “Whatever you have, my team needs it within the hour. Flash drives. Documents. I’ll call someone to help you set it up.”
“I can—”
“No, Mackenzie.” Issam stepped closer, towering over her. “You need to finish with the wedding. Commit yourself to that while I decide what to do.”
She met his gaze, willing herself to stay neutral, to not react. “There are more important issues at stake than wedding planning.”
“Not for you,” Issam said. His eyes flashed. “Not right now.”
12
Issam spent the rest of the day in meetings. Mackenzie sat through her own appointments with Daya and Adira, laughing and smiling as if she wasn’t on a spin cycle between frustration and fear.
It was hard to articulate why her irritation at Issam felt so raw. Yes, she hadn’t told him every detail about the reason she’d left Al-Madiza, but that didn’t make the women’s shelter any less important. Those women and their children needed all the help they could get—from Issam and Mackenzie. She hadn’t wanted to jeopardize her chance to be heard. And it had happened anyway. “Only fools rush in,” her mother would say, shaking her head. But she’d smile, too, because Mackenzie’s mother was like her. She’d only learned to temper her urge to go in with guns blazing through years of practice.
Either way, Mackenzie was sure she’d be spending the night alone.
It was late when the door to her room opened, but she was still awake, reading.
Issam stepped inside, hands in his pockets.
She let the book slide down onto the covers and sighed. “If you�
�re still angry with me about Al-Madiza—”
Issam shook his head. “I’m worried for you. For the country.” His dark eyes held compassion. “But I see why you did what you did.”
“Do you?” He was very nearly apologizing, but she still felt a defensive knot at the center of her. “Because they’re vulnerable out there. There’s nobody thinking of them, and—”
“I’m thinking of them.” Issam pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’ve spent all day researching exactly how vulnerable they are. Mackenzie, I understand.”
The tension that had knotted at the back of her neck began to release. “I’m—I’m glad.”
Issam studied her.
And despite all of it, despite her frustration with being turned away from the project that mattered most to her, Mackenzie couldn’t help appreciating how sexy he looked in the gentle lamplight. He had changed into a white T-shirt and gray pants for the night, and all the fabric hugged his muscles in a way that was positively luscious.
“Was there anything else you wanted to say?” She was suddenly conscious of how her nightgown had ridden up under the covers and wondered what he’d notice if she slid out of bed.
“Yes.” Issam’s eyes traveled over the shape of her in the bed. “I don’t think we should sleep in separate rooms anymore.”
“Oh?” Her heart beat faster. “Why not? I thought you wanted to wait until after the wedding.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a little grin. “It’s too much of a barrier between us.”
“Literally.”
“And I thought we could talk more easily if we had more time together.”
Mackenzie threw off the covers. “Say no more.”
* * *
Issam was forgiven, mostly, but Mackenzie still felt a little bruised by her disappointments. She slept restlessly beside Issam, who had gone to sleep the instant his head hit the pillow.
And—god, he woke up early.
It wasn’t light out yet when he rolled over away from her. Then the room was flooded with the bright blue light of his phone. With a little groan, she rolled away, burying her head in the pillow.
The Sheikh’s Fierce Fiancée: Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid Book Three Page 6
