by Ella Brooke
“I don’t understand.” She lay down on the bed, making sure there were plenty of pillows underneath her neck. Her hands reached down to slip under the hem of her panties. She was about to slip them off when her husband---dear God, this was real---shook his head at her. “What?”
“I want to do that for myself. First,” he said, sauntering over to her and picking up her wrist in his hand. “I need to tie you up. If you’ll allow it.”
She gulped. Her lovers had been few and far in between and, in the last couple years, pretty much nonexistent. “I…of course.” Her new boldness shocked her, but Olivia was more than happy to have him tie her to the bed frame and then do the same with her ankles as well.
Rami smirked back at her, mirth playing in his honey eyes, and his goatee quirked playfully back at her. “Now I’m going to have you completely at my mercy.”
“I’m alright with that. I promise, Rami.”
“Red, I’m going to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt in your life.”
She wanted to beg him to hurry up, that talk wasn’t needed when she was so very wet and so very ready for him. However, when Rami slipped his boxers over his chiseled hips, she had to swallow hard to keep from whistling her appreciation. His length sprang free, jutting up from fine, dark curling hair. It was thick all around and mouthwateringly big, unlike any she’d ever seen. Suddenly, Olivia felt cheated of all she’d been missing out on over the years.
“Do you want me?” he asked, climbing up over the foot of the bed, taking each movement like a panther about to pounce on a struggling deer. She didn’t mind being his prey, not with the way his muscles rippled and his member bobbed eagerly before her.
“Yes,” she said, her voice hoarse with need and desire.
“Then I can’t wait to make you scream, Red.”
He worked his way up her body until the bulk of him was hovering over her, his weight heavy against her and the scent of cloves teasing and tempting her as always. His lips were flush against her own then, soft and pillowy. Rami pressed his tongue into her mouth, that slender bit of muscle tasting her and dancing within the confines of her mouth. She tried to reach for his hair, to run her hand through his thick black curls, and groaned when her right arm snapped back to the bedpost. It was such a silly thing to forget, but now she understood part of the allure. And the trust. Rami, alone, controlled the tempo for all of this, controlled her ability to orgasm and what she felt at any given moment. Olivia was utterly at his mercy, and for tonight, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Rami moved from her mouth to her chin, tracing his teeth and then his stubble over the soft skin there. She mewled like a baby kitten and moved as best she could to thrust her hips against him, feeling his length hard up against her belly. If only it were inside of her now, if only she could feel the complete fullness of him inside of her. Her legs ached for it, her core, even her pleasure button, that sensitive bundle of nerves that he’d already driven wild once before. But Rami continued at his own pace and with his own ministrations. He was clearly a sheikh with a plan and a clear idea of what he wanted to do. As he worked his way down her collarbone and to the hollow of her throat, she could hardly mind. Every stroke of his sensuous tongue was alluring, every nip of his teeth against her skin awakening something deep and passionate within her.
Soon he snaked his tongue in the dip of her belly button, and she squealed so loud that Olivia was sure all the staff and half of the city heard her, even if they were probably miles from the heart of the capital. Then he dipped his tongue under the rim of her panties, his tongue tracing invisible patterns only he knew over her delicate down of hair there. Rami clenched the waistband between his teeth and yanked it down. She couldn’t really arch her back to help him, not spread as she was, and eventually he had to move the panties down and over her hips and as far down her thighs and knees as he could with his hands.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped.
She couldn’t help but grin. She, Olivia Joiner, had brought a sheikh to breathlessness. Even with her arms that were a bit too big and her curves that her mother never shut up about, even with all her flaws, Sheikh Rami Zaman saw her. Truly saw her. To him, she was desirable and, for once in her life, Olivia could actually believe that she was, believe that she mattered because such a wild and powerful man had deemed her so. He started by nuzzling a bit at her curls, but it changed quickly and his hands worked their way up the expanse of her thighs as he positioned himself to go deeper.
He couldn’t possibly…
She’d had one boyfriend in college who’d done this, but he’d only done it a few times, and when he had, he’d mostly made her feel badly for even asking. Frankly, she always assumed that men hated it. They only seemed, in her experience, to do it so that they could get things in return. Why would Rami...why would a sheikh deign to make love to her like this?
He paused as if seeming to read her thoughts.
“Are you alright, Red? You’re so quiet.”
“I just…you don’t have to.” Her cheeks had to be flame red by now or possibly bright as a fire hydrant. “I know that men don’t like it.”
He laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with seductive glory. “Most men don’t understand the joys of the ambrosia that comes from between a woman’s legs, the true honey fresh from its pot.”
She wrinkled her nose back at him. “Really?”
He didn’t say anything. After all, his actions spoke louder than any platitudes would have. No, instead she felt the softness of his tongue against her most secret lips. She moaned and arched her hips as best as she could, her body beckoning him forward to enjoy the wetness that had already slicked her legs and the apex of her thighs. With his hands gripping her thighs tightly, Rami thrust his tongue into her channel. Then he moved the fingers of one hand to press against her rosebud. He pressed against those hyper alert nerves, running his thumb counter clockwise against her pearl even as his tongue tasted every drop of juice from her core. As he continued his fervent licks with his tongue, the pleasure crested through her body, flowing up from her core, like a tsunami threatening to hit her full on.
Olivia closed her eyes and arched her head back. Part of her loathed the silk that bound her, wished she could reach down and run her fingers through Rami’s hair, that she could tickle the sides of his earlobe. She wanted to be able to urge him on, to get the rhythm going even faster and, at the same time, to be able to thank him with her wandering hands for everything he was giving her. Another wave of ecstasy hit but it wasn’t quite there yet, wasn’t enough to help her let go.
“Please,” she said, her voice a fevered litany.
He said nothing but his pace increased, his tongue thrusting in and out of her in a frantic tempo she’d never felt before. His thumb circled counter clockwise and hit the right spot of her pearl. It was then the tsunami hit her fully, the force of her orgasm turning her limbs to jelly and leaving her boneless and at Rami’s mercy. Apparently, he was extremely thorough, moving from plundering her core to lapping at her pleasure button, suckling it into his mouth and teasing her until she came again, screaming loudly enough for all of Yomarani as a kingdom to hear her.
When he was finally done, Rami disappeared to the bathroom and she heard the sound of running water. Olivia figured he was cleaning up after everything. When he came back, Rami set a towel on her lap and then undid the bindings on her wrists and ankles. Reaching down, he cleaned her off gently and then urged her onto her stomach.
“You need to rest, Red. You’ve had quite the evening.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced down at his length, still painfully hard. “I have to help you out.”
“There’s so much time left for that, my wife. Don’t worry about playing fair tonight. I just want to make you feel safe and happy. Do you?”
Except I can never go home again…
She didn’t voice her worries out loud. Instead, she regarded him with wide, heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m hap
py for tonight, Rami.”
His smile seemed to falter for only a moment before he lay down beside her and rubbed her back. “Then that’s enough for now, Red. Let’s get some sleep.”
Chapter Nine
She awoke that morning fully satiated and reaching over for Rami on his side of the bed. It was odd to her that she’d even start thinking about it that way, that they’d be taking sides. Yet he’d curled up next to her right side, and it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. However, Olivia bolted upright in bed when she realized that her sheikh was gone. Frowning, she pushed back the silk sheets and craned her neck around the room. There was no trace of Rami near her. Lying on the settee in the corner of the room, though, was a light mint green kaftan and the appropriate undergarments. That much was a relief. Olivia hadn’t been sure how she’d get back into her wedding robes, and they were the last thing she wanted to wander around the palace in. Her hair was still made up with precious jewels, but she must have removed her tiara and jewelry at some point in the bleary-eyed night. Standing up, she inched across the room and eased into her underwear and the soft, flowing robe.
The slippers were soft and felt like heaven on her feet.
They definitely had one up on the hell that was high heels on a daily basis. Gathering her wits about her, Olivia eased out of the bedroom and then journeyed through the myriad of wings hidden away within the palace. While she passed several servants and even some guards, she didn’t have much luck communicating with them as she spoke neither Yomarani nor Arabic. Eventually, she came to an open pavilion and sighed with relief when she found Gaila waiting for her, a beatific smile on the older woman’s face.
“Oh thank God!” she said, rushing forward and giving Gaila a hug.
She didn’t yet know the other woman well, but it was the best comfort she could manage in this place, especially since Rami---her husband of all things---had left her stranded and alone. Was that part of her punishment? Was that something she’d earned? Had she not been good? All these thoughts were plaguing her mind as she squeezed the other woman one more time before pulling away from the embrace.
“I don’t understand. Do you know where Rami is?”
Gaila nodded. “I apologize. He had a business call to Tokyo really early this morning, and I had left you the right clothing. You seemed so deeply out of it that I thought I could take my morning walk in the rose garden. I didn’t expect you to wake so soon. Rami sends his regrets, and he’ll be able to join you soon as well. The business couldn’t be helped, but he’d never wish to leave you.”
She blushed, thinking of all they’d shared last night and the way Rami had made her feel. Maybe she’d just gone nuts since she’d been fired in such a spectacular fashion, but she wasn’t sure anymore. For the first time in years, maybe forever, she was taking what she wanted, being a daredevil. After all, playing it completely and utterly safe for almost a decade hadn’t netted her anything. As messed up as her situation was, being daring had earned her a husband---again, perhaps one with a side of Stockholm syndrome---and a new adventure. Rami made her body hum with energy and her heart beat with passion. Nothing about that could be wrong, and the way his devilish tongue and talented fingers had brought her to utter ecstasy could only be right.
“I guess he wouldn’t,” she said, trying to keep her composure.
Gaila offered her a knowing glance and then nodded. “Well, now that we’re reunited and you’re currently up, we can always take a walk in the rose garden together. Would you like to do that or are you hungry?”
She wanted to say that she was hungry for other things, but bit her lower lip. That wasn’t like her either, and Olivia sensed that Gaila was a sincere person. She’d certainly been honest with Olivia yesterday and now. Besides, her stomach truly wasn’t yet rumbling, but the rumbling of the water in the towering fountain before them and the sweet tang of flowers baking under the sun was enough to leave her curious.
Nodding toward Gaila, she offered the older woman a broad smile. “I’d love to see roses. I’ve never seen a royal garden before in my life.”
Gaila marched forward and wound her way through the maze of fauna around them. “Technically, my sheikha, it’s your garden now to do as you like.”
“I’m not really a sheikha.”
Gaila didn’t break stride but she did look back over her shoulder, a Mona Lisa smile planted on her face. “You are now, and I promise you that the people of Yomarani are celebrating the new wife of our beloved sheikh. The title is an honorific and it’s surely meant for you. Feel free to embrace it.”
Olivia was overwhelmed by Gaila’s honesty and the depth of her dedication to Rami. “He’s a good ruler?”
“He tries so very hard, and he tortures himself. Rami feels that he can’t compete with his father’s legacy. Sheikh Ramul did so much to modernize our country, to build our allies, and yet even he couldn’t quell the rebels in the northlands. No ruler is perfect, but heavy is the head that wears the crown and Rami’s neck almost breaks under its weight. I feel my boy always focuses on his failures and never on his successes. The country’s economy and the Zaman Enterprises’ budget have both flourished under him. He should be so proud of that.”
“Your boy?” she prodded as they came to an intricately carved, thick wooden gate. There was Arabic inscribed in it and she had no idea what it said. Running her fingers over the divots in the wood, Olivia turned to Gaila. “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘Hope is the greatest gift of all,’” Gaila answered as she helped pry open the gates to the garden.
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat. The garden was festooned with roses of every shade, from bright yellows to deep violets to reds so rich they looked like velvet. The scent overpowered her, that floral with just a bite underneath, and she could hear the small hum of honeybees hopping from flower to flower.
“This is amazing.” Carefully, she reached out and touched the petals of one fuchsia rose, petals that felt like silk against her fingertips. “I didn’t know that roses grew here.”
“They don’t.”
She frowned at Gaila. “But they’re right here.”
“Sheikh Rami has a whole team who works to keep the roses alive and flourishing here. He planted the garden in memory of those he’s lost.”
“Like his parents?”
A film seemed to pass over Gaila’s eyes, and then she looked toward the horizon as if she could see something that Olivia could only guess at. “Rami has lost so much at so young. I’m over twice his age and have only seen a fraction of his sorrow in my own life. Do not be fooled by the wealth or the way you two met. There’s a wounded heart there, one trusting you for the first time.”
She quirked her head at Gaila. “It’s not just his parents then? You should tell me. However weird this is, he’s my husband now and I need to know some of what I’ve been forced into.”
“And our sorrows are our own. I can only say that you need to be good to him. I know so many things about Rami. I was there the night he was born, and I bandaged his first wounds when he fell from his horse. I was there when the rebels took his father and when he was crowned shortly after. I’ve seen him grow his company and lose more than any man ever should. He’s a good man, and a strong man, but he’ll need you by his side.”
“And why me?”
Gaila smiled more broadly. “I know that Rami is an excellent judge of character. Whatever he saw in you that night in the club, well, he knows he’s met his match.”
“I’m no queen.”
“Maybe you are and you just don’t know it yet.”
***
Rami came to the garden after his mind-numbingly long call with some partners in Tokyo over the next construction project he had his eye on in the Far East. While he normally found Nakachi thorough and talented, on the day after his wedding and bringing his new bride to the heights of so much pleasure, Rami had no hope of paying attention. All he craved was getting back to her, tasting every
inch of her again. Poring over building plans had been torture. He strode into the rose garden with purpose and excitement thrumming through his veins. When he caught sight of Olivia, however, he stopped breathing.
Her hair still had the diamond and emeralds braided through them as she had last night, but her face and the rest of her body was unadorned with either jewelry or make-up. The mint green of her robes served to highlight and intensify the emerald of her eyes. Her pouty lips were curved back in a smile as she leaned forward to sniff the collection of roses before her, and her thick red hair fell in luscious waves down her shoulders.
She was exquisite, and she was his.
“Have I interrupted anything?” he asked, trying to force the swagger to his voice. He didn’t need her to know how deeply she affected him. That was both too much too fast and, also, more than he was willing to explore in himself. Once, Etana had meant more to him than his next breath. When she’d died, she’d shattered his heart. Rami refused to let that happen to him again. “I can always come back.”
His bride shook her head and stood upright to greet him. “I came to find Gaila and she was here for a while. I’m glad you came.” Olivia blushed, seeming to think better of the double entendre in her words. “I mean…you know…I just missed you.”
“So you aren’t angry about our wedding?”
“I’m confused and I’d like to go home someday, but last night is an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.”
His heart fluttered, as if it were truly coming alive for the first time since he’d lost Etana and the daughter he’d never even been able to hold. Stalking over to her, he cupped the sides of Olivia’s face and kissed her deeply, his tongue tracing over her own, playing with every available crevice of her mouth, every secret depth that needed to be plumbed.
She was breathless when they broke apart and, if he were honest with himself, Rami was too.
When he could speak again, he asked, “Are you ready for a honeymoon?”
