“And she knows them all, Rais.” To my knowledge, Rais has never been in a dungeon before. Will it turn him off to know this is the lifestyle Aiza enjoys? The one which I’m very familiar with.
“I expect she does.” Damn. It doesn’t seem to have fazed him.
“She is standing right here.” Aiza all but stamps her foot as she starts to recover her composure.
Which I immediately shatter again as I close the gap between us. In this environment I naturally take charge. All other roles and responsibilities have gone out of the window. Here I’m a Dom, as Aiza is going to discover. Ignoring the other men, I rasp in a deep voice, “All this arouses you, doesn’t it, pet? Don’t deny it. I can smell you from here.”
Violently she shakes her head.
“One,” I tell her with an amused twist to my mouth.
“No,” she refutes loudly, showing she knows what I’m implying.
“That’s two. Just keep it up, Aiza.”
She pushes against me, turns her face up and sneers. “I’m not your sub. I don’t have a submissive bone in my body if you haven’t noticed. You won’t be laying a hand on me.”
“But I might.” Rais employs a lazy drawl. “She scared the fuck out of us, Hunter, by disappearing like that. How many for giving us such a fright?”
“At least five.”
“Ten,” Rami says. When we both turn to look at him, he shrugs. “I enjoy being spanked. That paddle she’s holding, fuck, she’s getting me hard.”
Aiza starts. She seemed to have forgotten she was holding it, and now embarrassed, puts it down. Conveniently, in my view, on a spanking bench as her action draws my attention to it. She glares at me, then at Rais and Rami and says forcefully, “Look, no one’s getting spanked, paddled, or doing any spanking or paddling. Time must be getting on now. I don’t want to be rude being late if the desert sheikhs have been invited…”
“There’s plenty of time.” Rais advances, placing himself at her back. As though we’d planned it, together we take a step nearer. She tries to slip out of our human sandwich. I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her. Rais copies me, gripping the opposite one. She’s squashed between us, and I’ll be fucked if she’s not flushing, and this time it’s not with embarrassment, but barely concealed excitement.
If Rais is in the same state that I am, she’ll have two hard cocks pressing against her. Over her head, I stare at the sheikh. He stares back, and a corner of his mouth turns up. He’s enjoying this. Rais might not have experience of playing like I have, probably doesn’t even know he’s a natural Dom. A strange thought comes into my mind. Perhaps we could share her? My cock grows harder at the thought. Perhaps that’s what she wants? This is no virgin princess squashed between us.
“Fuck, that looks hot.”
The voice pulls me out of my reverie. I’d forgotten Rami was here. His presence gives me more food for thought. Turning slightly so I can see him out of the corner of my eye, I beckon with my spare hand. “Come here.” Then I follow my instincts, take a chance and test him. “Kneel.”
Immediately the prince falls to his knees, and his face fills with pleasure.
Aiza starts to protest. She looks uncomfortable, and when she tries to look up into my face, she can’t meet my eyes. Hmm.
“Look, Hunter. Whatever you’re thinking, I want no part of it.”
“You’re turned on, Aiza,” I drawl.
“I’m not.” While the dilation of her pupils betrays the truth.
“Rami, why don’t you check to see whether she’s lying.”
He doesn’t immediately understand what I’m asking.
Rais does. “Is she wet, boy?” he thunders.
Aiza’s eyes open wide, and her jaw drops. Her signs of protest are overtaken by the way her breathing speeds up and she flushes. I’m watching her carefully, every minutiae of her expression I’m analysing. Any sign that she really doesn’t want this, I’ll make everything stop.
Although her mouth might be gaping, no words to stop us come out, nor does she physically make any move to halt the prince who’s almost panting with eagerness as he pushes her tunic up and pulls at her loose trousers so he can slide his hand inside. He must brush her clit, as she gasps and her pupils enlarge.
Nothing in her reaction makes me think there’s a need to tell Rami to back off.
She’s enjoying this.
Rami sounds happy as he announces, “She’s very wet. She’s dripping.”
As he pulls his hand away I grab hold of his wrist roughly, pulling his fingers to my mouth, sucking off her delicious essence. Then Rais’s hand snakes out and captures Rami’s from me, his tongue cleaning off the remaining moisture I’d missed.
We are all stunned. No one planned this. No one orchestrated it. It just happened. And fuck it, it seems right. Aiza’s the first to recover, looking at me, then down at Rami, and then tries to glance over her shoulder at Rais.
“We can’t,” she whispers. She sounds disappointed.
“Why the fuck not?” I question, while acknowledging it’s a ludicrous situation and has taken us all by surprise. We came together so naturally. It’s something I, for one, would like to explore. Being sensible, taking it further now might be a mistake, especially as Aiza looks panicked. Raising my hand to her face, I stroke her cheek while raising my chin to Rais. “I think we should talk about it before we do anything more. Give ourselves time to cool off.” Speaking for myself, that might take quite a while. My cock’s so hard it’s nigh on painful.
“I, I…”
“I’ve not known you lost for words before, Aiza.” Rais nuzzles her neck as he speaks. “Don’t panic, don’t overthink it. Don’t run when we leave here. Don’t deny that something’s happening here. Something which to me feels fucking right.”
“I don’t know what you mean, what you’re suggesting.” She stiffens in our touch, and as one, both I and Rais drop our hands and she’s free. She glances at Rami, then as fast looks away. “Look, let’s go upstairs. Lock this place up. Throw away the fucking key. It’s dangerous for us to be here.”
I can’t lose her. Can’t have her scared and running. Softly I tell her, “Dangerous? I thought it felt quite safe to me.”
“We’re hidden away. Easy to defend even if anyone were to find us,” Rais adds in support.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” She steps to the side and away from us. Her hands flutter. “I think we need to forget this ever happened?”
“I don’t want to forget,” Rami says eagerly. “I want to explore it further.”
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “You’ve played in clubs before.” A situation like this can’t be alien to her. Then, in the past she’s always been the Domme, never acknowledging her submissive side before. I’d take a bet that’s what’s spooked her.
Her back’s to us now. “Only with strangers. Not with…”
As her voice trails off I realise what else she’s worried about. “Not with men you’re attracted to. You just enjoyed the control, with no emotional attachment.”
Now she’s moving, storming off. Turning back looking at the tableau in front of her—two dominant men standing, one sub still kneeling on the ground. She waves her hands dismissively. “I can’t, alright? I just can’t.”
Idly I say as she flees the room, “Stand, sub,” only vaguely aware that Rami’s almost jumped to attention. I had no doubts he’d obey. “What do you think that’s all about, Rais?”
“We overwhelmed her.” He looks at me with a slight grin on his face. “I don’t think any of us saw that coming. I think you’re right.” He nods at Rami. “Any of us could have regrets later. Let’s have some space. Either we never talk about it again…”
“Or we take exploring further.”
Rami’s face, which had fallen as Rais finished speaking, now lights up again at my words. He puts out his hands and gently touches our arms. “I, for one, will have no regrets unless it causes awkwardness with Aiza. Neither will I r
efer to it in the future if she doesn’t want me too.”
“I can’t forget,” I tell them both. “She still deserves a spanking.”
Rais grins. For him, widely.
Chapter 23
Aiza
By the time I reach the bedroom I’m shaking like a leaf. What the hell just happened? I’m no stranger to seeing a woman with multiple men, however, I never thought that would be me. The woman in the middle was always submissive, and I’m not. I can’t lie though, when I felt Hunter and Rais’s hard cocks pressing into my back and my front, their hands holding me firmly, I did nothing, just forced vague and vain protests come out of my mouth, then even abandoning that and simply allowed myself to feel.
What about Rami? Fuck. He was so compliant with the instructions Hunter had given to him. Then both other men cleaning my essence off his fingers… That was soooo hot. My cheeks flame as I rerun the scene in my head.
Hearing multiple heavy footsteps climbing the stone stairs, my hands clench at my sides. They’re too much. My head’s spinning, my body throbbing with need. Adrenaline coursing through my veins in confusion, not knowing whether I was to flee or fight. Or simply take what they’re offering.
I can’t. They’d overwhelm me. Shit. They already have.
I can’t turn to face them, just listen as they talk.
“Yeah, Hunter. After the trouble with Abdul-Muhsi a year or so back, I’d trust any of the other sheikhs with my life and hers. You’ve got no worries on that score.”
“Do we need more men? My father would probably send some.”
“Can we park that idea for now, Rami? There’s a balance between having enough to protect the princess and having so many we might scare al-Fahri off. Then this will never be over.”
They’re not discussing what just happened.
“Are you ready, Princess? The sheikhs will have arrived by now.”
I start at the direct question. As my hands touch my cheeks I can feel them still glowing. “Give me five minutes?” I haven’t yet had enough time to process what went occurred in the dungeon. I’m kidding if five minutes is going to be enough. Five years probably would be nearer the mark. The three men I fancy, all for different reasons, are offering me something I never could have dreamt about.
“You’ve got it.” Rais says, almost indulgently, and then the three of them go past and out into the sitting room.
They’ve got themselves together. I must as well. I walk into the bathroom, still unable to deal with the events of the last half hour. Scared, intrigued and, damn it, excited when I consider what might happen later tonight when we all return to the suite. Splashing cold water on my face, I look into the mirror and give myself a pained smile. Three men have all made it clear that they each want me. I could handle that. What’s out of my league is that they might want me together.
I don’t understand why any of these fiercely independent men would even consider it. How could they work together? That’s what they had done, worked as a team as though they’d been doing it all their lives. Hunter and Rami frequent clubs, so maybe it’s not so unusual for them. But Rais? That was completely unexpected.
Brushing my hair, then scrunching it into a bun, I give myself a final inspection, deciding I’ll pass, no longer looking like someone who’s just been ravished. By three men. Slipping into my princess persona, pulling back my shoulders, I steel myself, then enter the living room.
It’s as if nothing unusual had just taken place. Two minutes later I’m walking through the palace, Hunter and Rami at my side, and Rais bringing up the rear protecting my back. Glancing in turn at the men walking by my side, they’re completely unaffected. It’s as if nothing’s happened at all. Can I do that? No, revealing a submissive side that I didn’t even know I had has shocked me to my core. I can’t forget, though I’ll do my damn best to pretend that I have.
We enter the smaller intimate dining room where a table which can seat twenty is covered with gleaming plates, cutlery and glassware. Jugs of fruit juice have been placed in convenient spots. Remembering that this palace is dry, I wonder if Nijad has a secret alcohol stock which I can attack later. I need a drink, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Yeah, a whisky or vodka or two might help settle the butterflies in my stomach.
As a wizened man comes over and bows, I try to force all thoughts of Hunter, Rais and Rami out of my head.
“Princess Aiza. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. I don’t know if you remember me? You must have been this high then.” He holds his hand about a metre off the ground.
Inclining my head, I respond with a smile. “Sheikh Ghalib. Of course I remember you. It’s good to see you again.” He half turns and beckons three other men over. “I don’t think you’ve met Sheikhs Jibran, Sofian and Khalaf.”
I bow to each. “Welcome, sheikhs. And how are the Niyaha, the Alah and the Makka? And of course the Hagra, Sheikh Ghalib?” Politely I enquire about their tribes, glad I could recall the names.
As they offer polite answers, Rais touches me on the shoulder and guides me to a seat at the head of the table, then sits himself to my right, Hunter’s on my left, and Rami next to him. It’s only then I realise everyone’s been waiting for me to take my place. It’s slightly unnerving being seated in top spot, then I remind myself I’ve chaired enough meetings of the charity before. I can do this.
Food starts to arrive, it’s appetising aroma overcoming my nerves and making my empty stomach growl. Luckily quietly enough no one else hears it. Remembering I’m a representative of the royal family, I don’t want to do anything to disgrace myself.
I glance around the table. “Thank you all for coming and giving me your support.”
Khalaf, a tall, intense looking man, seems to answer for all of them. “We’ve got a lot of money invested in the oil field, Your Highness. We want to get al-Fahri off our backs as much as you want him off yours. A chance to have a permanent solution will benefit us all.”
“Your safety comes first, Your Highness. But it also suits our purposes.” Jibran backs him up. “While al-Fahri’s breathing we’re all hyper-vigilant about protecting the pipeline. When he stops, we’ll be able to be proactive, and not reactive all the time.”
The others nod in agreement.
Sofian goes one step further. “The oil money will raise the standard of living for all our tribespeople. There was no shortage of volunteers determined to take al-Fahri out.”
As I study them I realise that a man fighting to protect what is his is likely to give more than soldiers working for pay. For these sheikhs and their men, it’s more than a job, it’s a bone-deep need to ensure they can provide for their families. For the first time I feel confident we can beat al-Fahri. Whatever he throws at us.
“Princess. You’ve spent most of your life outside of Amahad. Even so, you’re as much part of this country as any of us, and part of the royal family. We’ll serve you as we would the emir or your brothers.” Ghalib is intent with the vow that warms me inside.
I reach for some bread, break it, then look up. “Kadar has instigated some changes.”
Jibran sits back, patting his mouth with a napkin, smirking as he looks at the other tribal leaders. “He has. Some more questionable than others. Women drive cars now.”
Ghalib swears under his breath, and Sofian snorts and puts up his hand quickly to stop the mouthful of juice he’s just taken spitting out over the table. He points to Khalaf. “Think you might have something to say about that.”
“Fucking woman,” Khalaf swears. “Clipped the wing of my Jeep crossing a junction.”
“She was a learner.” Rais tries to pacify him.
“Which proves my point, doesn’t it? Men have a natural ability when it comes to machinery.”
Casually I place my roll on the plate. “You’re lucky yours was just clipped. My car was written off.” I let a pregnant pause stretch out, then elaborate, “By a man.”
Hunter guffaws, Rais changes the subject. “Kadar’s pena
lty reforms have of course been put in place.”
Shaking his head, Ghalib informs us, “Prisons are filling up. It was easier just to kill a man who had offended.”
Despite the sheikhs sounding critical of the changes Kadar has brought, I do sense an underlying pride in his efforts to move Amahad into the twenty-first century. Well, perhaps bring it up to the twentieth century at least.
As if to prove it, a ping announces someone’s received a text. Jibran grimaces apologetically and pulls out his iPhone and glances at the message. A beam crosses his face. “I apologise, Princess. My sister is in hospital having her first baby.”
“Has she had it?” Sofian asks eagerly.
“Yes, a healthy girl.”
As congratulations go around the table, it’s another thing I hadn’t expected. In my father’s time women had babies and men weren’t involved. The fact Jibran was worried about his sister, and that they’re all celebrating the birth of a female child, is heartening. I start to relax.
The rest of the meal proceeds smoothly, then coffee is served and plates cleared. I notice Jibran, who’s phone is now back into his pocket, looking at me thoughtfully. “And you, Princess. I hear you’ve been no slouch.”
Not understanding, I put my head to one side.
“Your charity. I understand you helped a boy from Ezirad to get the help he needed. You managed to get him into the States and to the best doctors. Fuck knows how you did that. He’s alive, and without your help he wouldn’t have been.”
It’s surprises me he knows about that. My work isn’t advertised. “That was a hard one,” I agree. “Getting a Muslim into the US nowadays is nigh on impossible. I nearly gave up. Somehow we managed it. Now I understand he’s back home and thriving.”
Rais’s hand lands on mine, and he squeezes it. Quickly I glance at the other sheikhs. They don’t act as though they’ve witnessed anything inappropriate.
Realising we’ve avoided talking about plans, I ask, “So how’s this going to play out?”
Nobody asks me to explain what I’m talking about. “Princess, you don’t need to worry tonight. We’ve got the palace surrounded and extra guards inside. No intelligence reports that al-Fahri’s on the move yet. We’ll plan in more detail tomorrow.”
Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6) Page 20
