Her eyes open wide.
Chapter 22
Zoe
I stare at him. He’s asking too much of me. He wants me to submit to him? “I don’t think so,” I tell him emphatically, so there’s no room for any misunderstanding then suck in my cheeks, trying to get enough moisture to swallow as concern has made my mouth dry. “Don’t you think Ethan made me submit to him?” Tears come to my eyes as I remember, “In his playroom, he used to tie me up and hit me with his hand, paddles… canes. He used to have Hargreaves whip me while he stood by and watched! I know enough that I don’t want to go through any of that again.” I turn away from him, “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt thank you very much. If that’s what being a sub is all about I don’t want to know!”
Kadar takes a step towards me; his hand held out in invitation. His eyes have gone so dark it’s impossible to read what he’s thinking. “Trust me to show you something different, Zee. Trust me to take care of you. What I’m about to do is for you, not me.” He frowns, and a vicious look comes over him, “I do not get my kicks from hurting women. Ethan is not a man; he’s an animal. And he’s not a Dom.”
How can giving a man control be for me? I shake my head in bemusement. It’s not that I truly believe Kadar wants to hurt me, and I know some women like giving men their power. But experience has taught me it’s not something I’d do voluntarily. But I can’t deny his closeness, this discussion, is having a physical effect on me. I feel wet down below, and the throbbing between my legs is more intense than I’ve ever known before. If I’m honest, just talking to Kadar has made me feel more turned on than anything I’ve experienced in bed with any other man. Ethan never talked about what he was going to do to me; he just did it. The fact that Kadar’s telling me, giving me a choice, is different. I can’t understand my reaction to him, how my own body’s response is betraying me. And darn it, that look on his face, the gleam in his eyes. He knows exactly the effect he’s having on me.
Can I believe he’d be so selfless as to expect nothing in return? Surely he’ll want me to take care of his needs in some way? All men do. I turn away from him, thinking of my previous experiences. Men touch women only as a sure fire way to get their release.
Now fear takes hold, swinging around, I attack him verbally, “You want something from this. You have to, and I’m not prepared to let you use me, Kadar. I can’t do that again.” I can feel my private regions clenching as though to repel an intruder. Sex and pain are interlinked in my head, and not in any pleasurable way, men have only ever used me before. Ethan was by far the worst, but in my admittedly limited experience, the others I’d been with had also been selfish. Rapidly my arousal fades as I realise the consequences of giving in to him. I’m not going to be a victim again.
“I’m not asking, not demanding, anything of you, Zee. My fulfilment will be seeing you satisfied and happy. I can’t, and won’t ask for anything more.” He wipes his hand over his face, then stands back, one arm cupping the elbow of his other, and the palm of that one supporting his chin. “I’m not free to give you anything else of myself; my future is already written as you know. I can make no promises, have nothing to offer beyond helping you understand yourself, your wants and needs. I want to help you come to terms with what happened to you, to accept it wasn’t your fault, and to assist you to move on. I want to show you another side of Dominance. The right side.” His gaze is intent, his voice deep and authoritative, and I feel a shiver of delight down my spine. “This is all for you, Zee. I will take nothing from you.”
I stare at him, this dark, formidable Sheikh, who’s asking me to put my faith in him; to give him the trust that Ethan destroyed? Suddenly it’s as though a light bulb switches on in my head. If I keep harping back to my experiences with Ethan, if I refuse to move forward, am I letting him still control my life? Should I take this chance and jump into the unknown? Swallowing rapidly, I ask, still undecided, “I say red, and you’ll stop?”
“At any time.” The promise and assurance in his voice are evident. I don’t know why he’s doing this for me; he is the ruler of a country; he could have any woman he wants. But he desires me. He’s made that clear. And I want him, or at least, what he can offer me. So it all comes down to whether I can trust him or not.
He has given me his word; as ultimate ruler, his word must surely count for something? He has to be trustworthy, doesn’t he? But Ethan ruled a company a voice inside reminds me. Having absolute control doesn’t equal being honest or honourable.
He waits patiently. Not pushing, not pressurising. I’m sure as emir he has something pressing he needs to do somewhere else. But unlike Ethan, who would come home for a quickie between meetings, setting a time limit that provided sufficient time only for his pleasure, Kadar’s not looking at his watch or showing any signs of impatience or agitation.
Can I do this? Or looking at it another way, can I afford to throw away this chance? I might never have such an opportunity again, a man, focused solely on my needs. Suddenly I decide to take a leap of faith. “O… kay.” My voice is hoarse, my fear shining through. Panic only seconds away.
For a moment he makes no move, only his eyes flick over me, assessing me. Then, once again, he holds out his hand, and at that invitation, I reach out mine to take it.
I pull back immediately. With just that brief touch, I felt sparks fly like an electric shock. Throwing a quick glance up at his face, I see his eyes flash in recognition of whatever had passed between us. He felt it too but is the first to recover and react. His large hand comes out again and encircles mine firmly, this time giving me no chance to withdraw. For a moment we stand there, acknowledging our connection. My arousal, which had receded as the memories of Ethan swamped my brain, returns with a vengeance. With a cautious nod I give my permission to proceed.
As if he’d been waiting for that signal, Kadar gently leads me over to the bed. He lets go of my hand and points, “Lie down, on your back, Zee. Put your hands above your head.” He waits.
I stagger backwards, “Red!” I cry out, my fear overcoming me.
Immediately he stills, and I flinch, waiting for the blow, my reward for my disobedience. It doesn’t come. Instead, he gathers his robe around him, bows his head, and starts to walk to the secret staircase, ready to take his leave. I’m drawing breath into my lungs as rapidly as I can; my heart is beating fast, too fast. But I don’t want him to go.
“Stop! Wait!” I run and grasp his arm. He turns his stern face towards me; I see the disappointment in his eyes, and something else, despair as though he’s failed. “Please, I’m sorry. I panicked.” He stills, and looks at me, considering. Something hits me as forceful as a blow from his hand. He stopped. When I said the safeword, he stopped. Everything. All of a sudden, I realise maybe I can take that next step, maybe only a tiny one for now, but at least it’s in the right direction. “Kadar, you stopped. You did what you said you would do. I can’t go all the way and say that I completely trust you. But what’s different is that I am starting to have faith in you. I might not get there today, but I’m willing to give this a try. I didn’t think I could even go this far, but when you stopped, well, you didn’t force me. Or punish me.” I take a deep breath, trying consciously to slow the rapid beating of my heart. “Please, please…”
“Come.” He takes my hand again and says no more as he leads me back to where we were, I wait for further instruction, he doesn’t hesitate, “Lower yourself onto the bed.”
Shit! Can I do this? Can I voluntarily get into the position that Ethan forced me into so often, vulnerable and open to him? But Kadar is right. To exorcise my demons maybe, I need to face them. To create new memories that will chase out the old. I close my eyes and gather my resolve. I lay myself down, on my back.
Kadar had hit the nail on the head about my previous sexual encounters. And yes, I did pretend I was as satisfied as my partner, though in reality, glad to have got the messy bit over so we could cuddle and go to sleep. I’m starting to suspect i
t won’t be that way with the emir.
His coarse, strong hands take my arms and manoeuvre them above my head, pressing gently on my fingers, so I hold onto the bars of the headboard. I wait for him to cover me, trap my legs in his, to restrain me my hands with his, but he does neither. With embarrassment, I feel him push my silk trousers down past my hips, and then he pushes up my tunic, and unclips my bra, exposing my breasts. Gentle hands cover them and caress them then, before alarm has a chance to emerge, his gorgeous head is there, mouthing and laving one of my already erect nipples. I push my body up into him, and hear him chuckle in response. A zing of pleasure goes straight to my clit. Alternating with his hand and mouth, he gives both nipples the same treatment until I writhe and think of nothing but the complete pleasure he’s giving me. And I want more.
“Beautiful, absolutely fucking beautiful.” He lifts his head and admires his handiwork. Glancing down at myself, I see my nipples red and peaking harder than I’ve ever seen them. For a second his eyes meet mine, then, keeping his gaze locked on me, he moves further down my body, and pauses, his fingertips touching the elastic of my plain, everyday knickers. “I want these off.” It’s a statement, but I know he’s asking my permission.
I’ve gone so far I can’t turn back now, “Yes.” A quiver runs through me, part hating the fact I’ll be so exposed to him, but also in anticipation of what he’s going to do.
He lifts me slightly so he can slip my underwear down my legs and then before the seed of a panic attack can take root, he gently starts rubbing his palm across exposed skin of my stomach. The motion, although not overtly sexual, seems to communicate directly with that significant bundle of nerves between my legs, making them pulsate.
“Never run from me again, habiti, not without speaking to me. I want you to remember this, Zee. Remember the importance of communication. It’s important between friends and vital between a Dom and his sub. Keep your hands above your head.” I hadn’t realised I’d started to remove them, but immediately I follow his instruction the warmth of his hand descends, the motion circling as he moves closer to the centre of me. My body flinches, as the memory of Ethan touching me, forcing his fingers or his cock inside my dry channel, comes to me. I tense, waiting for the pain, but his hands avoid that part of me, moving down, massaging my legs.
“Relax, habiti; I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Shush,” he stops me, “Just feel my touch, don’t think about anything else. There’s no room for a third person here. Let go of any thoughts of anyone else touching you.”
It’s difficult, the last time a man to intimately touch me was Ethan, and he’d been so rough.
I feel him kneel on the bed, gently moving my legs apart. I try to resist, fighting to keep my legs tight together.
“Has anyone ever licked your sweet pussy, habiti?”
“No!” I gasp out, now desperate to close my legs. The dirty words coming from his mouth while unnerving, excite me and even though his strong hands are holding me apart, open and ready for him, saying my safeword is the furthest thing from my mind. The throbbing intensifies and with mortification, I feel myself getting so wet I must be staining the bed. He can’t really be suggesting he’s going to do that, can he? No man has ever done that before, and while my mind can’t understand how I’ll like it, my body has other ideas. Automatically I begin wriggling as I try to find some relief. I hear a chuckle, and his hands still me.
Then, his head lowers, and at first his warm breath is the only thing that touches me, but that gentle caress of air is enough to have me arching off the bed. Another chuckle, I feel the vibration, “Be still, habiti, just enjoy.” And then his tongue is licking me there, swiping from the opening of my channel to that oh, so sensitive place where all the nerves congregate. He works his mouth around, licking, sucking; his tongue spearing inside of me.
“Hmm, I suspected you would taste good, but I never dreamed how sweet you’d be. I could get addicted to this; I can’t get enough, habiti. You’re so wet for me. You’re dripping.”
I shiver at his words; they make me embarrassed, but also turn me on as much as his talented mouth. I can’t believe he’s doing this. My hands grip the headboard as hard as they can as the feelings he incites take me beyond any conscious control. All thoughts have gone; I can’t think of anything but the pleasure he’s bringing me. I feel his teeth close on that nerve bundle, a sharp bite to my clit that does nothing but shoot my level of arousal up to a seemingly impossible level.
But he pulls away before I find my release, and I can’t prevent the moan of frustration, but the touch of his fingers, swiping through the wetness between my legs, reassures me he’s not finished yet. His mouth returns to my source of pleasure, and his tongue circles. I try to rise into him, try to get him to apply more pressure just where I need it, but he pins me down, restraining me. I’m getting frustrated. But I’m not scared.
“Shush. Trust me. Take what I’m giving you. I know what you need.”
Nobody else ever bloody well has. I think the words to myself. No one has ever known what I needed. But the sensations I’m feeling are already a million times stronger than any, even my battery operated friend, has given me. Safeword out? Like hell, I will. I groan, he laughs softly. I beg, “Please.”
He slips a finger inside me; it slides in easily as I’m so wet for him, and his mouth now starts to suck. I try to squirm, but he holds me tight. I pull up against him, anything to get me to release. I’m so ready to come; I just need something more, him to move. He slips another finger inside me, gently stretching me, and I feel his fingers curling around as if he’s trying to reach my clit from the inside.
“Please,” I gasp out again.
He chuckles, the sound waves oscillating across my clit, almost making me explode on the spot but he lifts his head before I quite reach it. “Ask me to let you come in my mouth, little one. Ask me.”
I can’t ask him that! It’s too dirty. But he waits, hovering just above where I need him, his warm breath invoking spikes of arousal that are almost painful and not quite enough to let me go over the top. Feeling like a coiled spring, I summon up the courage and to rasp out the only words that will apparently make him take mercy on me, “Please, Kadar, let me come in your mouth.”
Suddenly there’s pressure inside from his fingers, his tongue presses on my clit and then there’s a sharp nip of his teeth. I can’t take a breath, the sensations build and overwhelm me, I can’t take it, I can’t stand this volcanic feeling inside of me.
“Come for me.” His dominant voice commands and my body obeys the demand of its master.
With a scream I let everything go, I reach the top, then explode, the feeling, so intense everything goes black for a few seconds, then I come back to my senses, mortified. His strong arms surround me, lifting me up, so I straddle him, and I collapse onto him, hugging him tightly, unable to fight back the tears which stream down from my eyes. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I’m still sobbing, but sitting on him I can feel the hard evidence of his arousal and also very aware of the wetness beneath me, soaking into his robes. Scrunching up my face, I gaze up at him, ready to give my stuttered apology. But he’s smiling at me, a depth of warmth in his face I never expected to see. Putting one hand behind my head, he pulls me to him and kisses me deeply, taking complete charge, dominating me, holding me in place to plunder my mouth at his will. I taste myself on him and love it. I’ve no thoughts of pulling away, so desire to escape. He owns me with that kiss.
It’s a long time before he releases me and pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face. “I think you liked that,” he says, amusement in his eyes. “Fuck, habiti, that was the best feeling in all the world.”
“I’ve never…I’m sorry…I…” My face glows; I can feel the heat.
He studies me, and he knows what I’m trying to say. “You came, habiti, it’s good.” His dark eyes glow now, with satisfaction as though he’d eja
culated himself. He smiles down at me, “You see, Zee, letting me take charge didn’t take anything from you at all.”
I can’t speak; I just nod my agreement. I’m amazed and still dazed that he’s taken nothing for himself. As my breathing gets back to normal, I shift and pull myself up into a sitting position.
He glances down at himself where I’ve stained his robes, and his face grows rueful, “I’d happily wear your essence as a badge all day, but I’ve got a meeting with the finance minister, er, in…” he lifts his arm, shrugs back his sleeve and consults his watch, “Er, in less than an hour. I think I’d better change first.” He laughs gently, the sound soothing me. He presses his lips to my forehead in a gentle kiss.
“Never walk out on me again. We talk. About everything. I don’t want there to be misunderstandings between us. If something worries you, we’ll talk about it.” He repeats his previous instructions.
Sitting on him as I am, I can’t miss the hardness beneath me, but he seems true to his promise. This was all for me, and he wants nothing in return. Starting to trust him, I feel some of my old cheekiness come back. “Well, if that’s the punishment I’m going to get…”
“Wench!” He stops me with another kiss, this time, a chaste brush of his mouth against mine. Then he pulls me into his hard, muscled chest, his arms encircling my back. I feel so safe and secure I never want to leave, and I have to force myself to remember this is all he can offer me. A chance to show me that I have control, that I could trust a dominant man who doesn’t use his strength against me, who respects my limits. As I relax in his arms, my fingers clutch at his robes. I could fall for this man.
As quickly as I achieved an endorphin high, everything suddenly crashes down on me. My legs still feel shaky as I pull myself away, his arms releasing me as soon as I start to move. I stand and turn away, and as discreetly as I can rearrange my clothing. It doesn’t help that my foot catches in the hem of my trousers, I stagger momentarily, almost falling back against him, but a strong arm reaches out to steady me. He doesn’t comment.
Second Chances (Blood Brothers #3) Page 26
