In the end, it’s well into the evening by the time I’m done with formalities. Five of the ten desert sheikhs were in attendance, Sheikhs Rais, Ghalib, Jibran, Sofian, and Wahid. Of the absentees, three were concerning. I hadn’t expected to see Abdul-Muhsi of course, and have to admit part of me was relieved by his absence. But it worried me that Fadi and Tamir hadn’t put in an appearance. Their camps are indeed the closest to the desert city, and thus their absence surely a deliberate snub. Khalaf and Nazmi, who are based further away, had at least sent apologies for their not being here, so I can’t immediately interpret the fact they haven’t turned up as a sign of their lack of support.
Once I’d become resigned to the disappointing empty spaces around the table, I found it extremely useful getting the five attending sheikhs together and made a mental note to thank Richard for his foresight in arranging our first meeting in an informal setting. The conversation at dinner had been enlightening. Being able to introduce my plans for a democratic form of government in a casual way meant we’d had some serious discussion, with my proposal receiving a cautious welcome by those present. With the expected caveats, of course, which include ensuring sufficient sway is given to the desert tribes. We’d ended by drawing up a rough agenda for our meetings in the following days. All in all a very productive evening.
But the few hours of being a politician, ensuring every single word uttered from my lips was censored and diplomatic, had been draining, and when I eventually make my way to the royal suite I’m more than ready for some form relaxation. The trouble is, my preferred way of relieving my stress would be to sink my cock deep into, what I now know is, the very tight pussy of a petite blonde who happens to be staying in the suite next to mine. And that is just not going to happen. My brain knows it, but my body hasn’t got the message as I harden at the thought of the woman so close and yet so far, my cock pushing against the material of my desert robes. Then I remember Sean is sharing her suite, and the idea of another man being so near to her makes me want to hit something. My fists clench by my sides, as I try to control the unreasonable feelings inside of me. If she wants Sean, I should let her have him. I have no right to her; I cannot claim her as mine.
As I near my brother’s rooms, two servants exit the royal suite, evidently having turned down my bed for the night. I acknowledge their bows while noting the extent of their obeisance is so great, they almost end up folded to the floor. Such behaviour is common in the capital’s Palace of Amahad; my father had insisted on the strict protocol in any royal residence. But here, in the desert city, Nijad’s informed me he’d almost entirely stamped the habit out, requiring nothing more than a verbal greeting or at most a slight dipping of the head as a mark of respect. Hmm, perhaps these two haven’t got the memo. Or maybe Nijad has been exaggerating the extent of the reforms he’d accomplished. But I have to admit, I haven’t been in the Palace of Z̧almā for some time and have no up-to-date knowledge of the servants here.
Their greeting reminds me of how I’m trying gradually to change the formalities in the main palace. My father encouraged the traditional practice of excess deference which has been afforded to me since birth. I see no need for it, but it’s hard to stamp out old habits. The behaviour of the two servants I’ve just seen makes me resolve to try harder. In this day and age such exaggerated signs of respect are out of date.
As I walk into the royal suite, I think over the whole of the passage I’ve taken from the formal dining room to this point and realise not once had Nijad’s boasted reforms been in evidence. Each guard, each servant, had greeted me in the old fashioned way. Why? Had they reverted to their traditional behaviour because I’m the emir? It’s possible. Something is niggling at me, but having spent the last few hours negotiating and fighting to keep my wits about me to avoid stepping on any overly sensitive metaphorical toes, my brain refuses to fire on all cylinders. So I store the observation away in the back of my mind if only to tease Nijad about it on my return to Al Qur’ah.
Entering the royal bedroom, I throw off my robes and headdress and pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, no longer wanting to feel like the ruler. As I change, I feel the shackles of state fall from me, and I’m just a man again. An average, hot-blooded man with a dick still twitching at the thought of the woman next door. Giving myself a mental shake I return to the suite’s sitting room, and sprawl on the luxurious cushions spread around a low table, staring at the jug containing a fruit drink set on it. There’s no alcohol in the southern desert―even in the palace―a fact I currently resent with a vengeance. If there was a time I needed a fucking drink, this is most definitely it.
I stare at the offending carafe for a long moment before slashing my arm forward and sweeping it off the table, uncaring that it’s smashed or that the liquid soaks into the expensive antique carpet. Lithely unfolding myself, I get to my feet, my fists tight by my sides, tension rolling off me in waves. There is no way I can relax tonight, not on my own. The longing, the yearning, comes over me like a wave. Fuck it! I have to see Zee. My desert blood rises through me, and I move like a warrior about to stalk his prey. I want her. I’m going to have her.
All common sense leaves me as I exit the royal rooms. I’m no longer the emir; I’m an aroused man going after my mate. With no hesitation I knock loudly on the door of the guest suite, and when Sean answers I brush past him with little more than a nod, zoning in on my quarry.
She’s standing at the door of her room, already dressed for bed in a negligee and light silk robe. Her blond hair is just long enough to touch the swell of her gorgeous breasts. One long slender leg pokes out through the soft flowing wrap, and the way her belt is cinched shows off her shapely narrow waist emphasising the swell of her ample womanly hips. I swallow, already uncomfortable in my tight jeans. Having feasted on her body my gaze rises to her face. She’s startled, her eyes open wide as though she’s having trouble recognising me probably as she’s never seen me dressed so casually before. Her blush and the way her tongue comes out to lick her lips tell me she is not unaffected by the sight. The air is tinged with her arousal, but I stay where I am, retaining just sufficient control to prevent me rushing and falling on her like an animal. I’m not blind to the hint of uncertainty in her eyes.
“I want you.” It’s all I can stammer out; proud I’m able to form words at all.
“This is not a good idea, Your Excellency,” Sean stands close behind me, his voice full of contained anger as he uses my title to remind me who I am.
I swing round to face him. “No! Tonight I’m not the emir; I’m merely a man. And you don’t stand in the way of a man who wants his woman.” The bodyguard doesn’t budge. Does he not realise how dangerous it is for him to obstruct me from the object of my very deep desires? “Leave us!”
“No.” He steps closer to me, his posture threatening, “I don’t care who you are; Zoe’s not ready for this.”
“Zee,” I turn my back on him and look her straight in the eye, “I can’t promise you a future. But fuck I need you. I need you tonight. In my bed.”
Her eyes flick between us, confused, scared at the animosity in the air and taken aback by my demand. But she’s not retreating. Does she realise the way she’s pulling back her shoulders is causing her already erect nipples to poke against the thin silk of her clothing? Is she aware her slight movement has caused her robe to part, showing bare flesh up to her thigh?
“Zoe, he’s not going to touch you while I’m here,” Sean states adamantly. He’s going to get hurt if he keeps this up.
Her attention is caught momentarily by her protector, but it’s back on me within seconds. “Kadar…”
I don’t let her finish, “Sleep with me, habiti. Come with me now.” I hold out my hand to her.
Sean starts at the endearment and throws me a strange look, but he’s not giving in, “Kadar!” It’s a shout that makes me turn back to him.
“What?” I snarl. I’m fast running out of patience, and he’s going to find himself decke
d in a moment.
“She’s going nowhere. You think I’m going to let her go out of here with you into your suite? Into the dungeon?”
I hear a gasp; Zoe’s covering her mouth. When she takes her hand away, her eyes are even wider, her face full of shock. “Dungeon?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Nijad’s converted part of the harem into a Dom’s Dungeon, and the entrance is via the royal suite.” Sean explains to her, not too helpfully in my opinion. I wasn’t even thinking of taking her there tonight.
She starts backing into her room then pauses her retreat. “You brought me here to take me into a dungeon? That’s the alterations you were telling me about?”
Before I answer, I study her face. Fuck me; she’s scared, yes, but there’s also an element of curiosity there. I try to calm myself, holding out my hands palms open upwards to signal my sincerity. “A lot of the harem is still intact, and as I told you, the gardens are magnificent. Yes, a portion of it’s been converted into a fully equipped dungeon which Nijad and Cara use, or used to use, it’s a bit, er… awkward at the moment given her condition.” My reference to my sister-in-law’s advanced state of pregnancy brings a fleeting smile to her face, but it quickly disappears. I shake my head, “I’d love to take you to the dungeon, habiti, but tonight I have no intention to do so. It’s not the reason you’re here. We expect St John-Davies to arrive in Al Qur’ah in the next few days, and I’ve brought you here to the desert palace to keep you safe.”
She holds her position, giving no more ground. “Why, why are you here now then?” Her soft voice trembles, but I can hear the intrigue there. Her apprehension that had appeared at the mention of the dungeon dissipates and a slight flush reddens the tops of her breasts visible beneath the robe. As I watch her intently, her eyes can no longer meet mine, but as she drops them, she makes a reciprocal inspection of my body, of my very visible throbbing desire for her straining at the zip on my jeans. Fuck, I’m going to get marks embedded there if I don’t release my cock soon. She doesn’t miss it, and I don’t overlook her crossing her legs, moving as though she’s trying to ease some discomfort. I realise I can read her like a book. She wants me as much as I want her.
Sean’s a Dom; he doesn’t miss the signals she’s giving out either. I hear him clear his throat behind us, and suddenly I realise that I was right to be jealous, he has feelings for her too, more than he should have as her bodyguard. But it’s me she’s looking at, not him. It’s me she’s devouring with her eyes.
He draws our attention with a cough, and his words signify his surrender, but his tone carries a warning, “It’s up to Zoe. If Zoe wants you, then you stay here. You’re not taking her to your suite, Kadar. I’ll be right here in the next room, and if I hear her cry out or scream I’ll be straight in. If you scare her or hurt her, I can’t promise you’ll walk out of here alive, Kadar. Emir or not.”
“I hear you. But make sure you don’t misinterpret any cries or screams. Any sound you hear will be of pleasure, not pain. And I don’t want to die because I’ve pleased my woman. And don’t underestimate my skill, Sean. You might be the one leaving in a box.”
“Stop it!”
Zoe looks at us with a frown on her face as though she’s separating kids on a playground, and for a second, I see her giving our children a dressing down. What. The. Fuck? Children? I shake my head to clear the vision. I have to focus on tonight. This one night that I can give her.
“Kadar, I want you. But I’m not ready for this, for you.” The admission passes her lips as a whisper, and she gazes down at her feet.
Moving towards her I close the distance between us and put my fingers under her chin, tilting her face up until she can’t avoid my eyes, “Trust me, Zee. I won’t take more from you that what you wish to gift me. I’ll give you control, Zee. I won’t hold you, force you or even undress you. You take it all at your pace. And if you can’t continue, you stop. If I scare you or frighten you, scream your safeword and Sean will come running. And if I do scare or frighten you, I’ll deserve whatever he wants to dish out.” I lower my hand, dropping it down to my side, keeping my palms flat against me, offering no threat or pressure. It’s hard to maintain a relaxed stance with blood pumping so strongly through my veins. I feel lightheaded with passion, but I’m not going to force myself upon her. I’d never do that to any woman.
I almost feel Sean relax behind me, as though he realises that he has lost. Like I’m offering her control, he’s got to accept her choice.
How long we stand there, I’m not sure, but we both give her the space she needs to make her decision. Suddenly she looks up, her gaze flicking from me to her bodyguard, then back to me again. She nods, slowly. “Kadar, make Ethan go away.”
As she steps to one side, inviting me into her room, I understand the meaning underlying her words. She wants me to take away the memories of him away, to replace them with something new. To show her how good a real man can make her feel. It’s a heavy responsibility, but one I feel confident I can carry. As I follow her into the room, I close the door firmly behind me.
Chapter 26
Zoe
When I came to the door of my room and saw Kadar dressed in those tight-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that hugs him so closely, doing nothing to hide the hard body beneath, exposing his arms, so muscular and powerful, I felt an immediate rush of arousal soaking my underwear. His posture, his expression, everything about him emphasises his aura of strength and dominance that comes not only from his inherited role but uniquely from the man inside. He’s so tall, towering over me. This man wouldn’t need a Hargreaves to hold me down for him to hurt me; he could control me with one hand. I should have shut my door, shut him out. Run and hidden or taken Sean up on his offer of protection. But something stops me; a feeling of desire that fights to counteract my fear. Could I have him just this once?
I listen to the angry words being tossed around between the two men, but my focus is on the emir. No, not the ruler of Amahad, but just a man. A hot-blooded man who so very obviously wants me.
I’d spent time with Sean today, enjoying catching up with him, hearing about what was going on back home and unable to deny there was a bubbling attraction between us, at least from his side. His seductive glances, his suggestive comments made me giggle but elicited no other physical response. By contrast, as soon as I saw Kadar again my body immediately awakened, need flooding through me, letting me know my bodyguard couldn’t hold a candle to Kadar. Sean is a decent person, and I’m not blind to nor feel threatened by his overt flirtation. He isn’t a man for a happily ever after, nor will he ever be, until he makes up his mind about what he’s looking for.
On the other hand, there’s no chance of a happy ending with Kadar. He has commitments on him; obligations for a whole nation. But however much I try to ignore my feelings, I can’t stop me from wanting him or needing him to ease this ache inside me, wanting to experience, even if for just one time, what it would be like to be in his arms. Instinctively I know it would be like nothing I’ve ever known before. I’d never wanted any man so much. But I’m too scared to follow through.
Too afraid, that is until he says he’ll give me all control and an out if it gets too much. I just use my safeword, and he’ll stop, or Sean will come to my rescue if he doesn’t. No comparison to the circumstances where Ethan tortured me in his playroom, with no one to come to the rescue. What have I got to lose? Can I summon enough courage to do this? There’s no doubt he wants me, this virile man standing in front of me. Could he make the bad memories go away? No pain, only pleasure. Would I be a fool to turn him down?
While different thoughts battle in my head, he stares at me, the intensity of his gaze making me uncomfortable, making me squirm. I shift my legs to try and ease the ache between them, but I can find no relief. My arousal must short circuit my brain as I find the words coming out of my mouth, “Kadar, make Ethan go away.”
He wastes no time, coming forwards, making me retreat into my room as he shuts the door fir
mly him. Despite his assurances, a sudden wave of anxiety turns my anticipation into fear. Scared he’s going to be rough—to grab me, to strip me, to force me—I can’t get my breath, can’t get the oxygen I need into my lungs. He moves closer.
“Eyes on me.” His dominant tone imposes itself through my scattered thoughts, and I can do nothing but obey. He takes my hand and puts it against his chest so I can feel his heart beating. “Breathe with me. In, out, deep breath in, and out,” he instructs me. I try to mimic his movements, concentrating on the hard muscles of his upper body beneath my hands as they rise and fall with each intake of breath. Gradually my breathing calms, my panic attack dissipating. My eyes are still fixed on his as he asks me, “You remember your safeword?”
I confirm it by nodding.
“Verbal answer, habiti. Talk to me,” he reminds me.
“Yes. Red,” my voice comes out only just above a whisper.
“If you use it I’ll stop immediately, as I did in the harem. Nothing will happen here tonight that you don’t want to take place. And, for just this one night, nothing which you don’t control.” His dark eyes examine me, and what he sees seems to satisfy him. “Now, tell me what you want to do. Or better still, what you want me to do.”
Reading the sincerity in his beautiful dark eyes, I feel uncertain. He’s offering me the moon, but I’m not sure what to do with it. “I don’t know how to do this,” I tell him hesitantly, honestly, and then give a soft disparaging laugh, “I’m like a child given loose rein in a sweet shop. I don’t know where to start.”
“Do you want me to take my clothes off?”
His helpful offer surprises me. I was always naked first with Ethan; the fact I was unclothed while he was still dressed immediately increased his power over me. He’d used it as a form of humiliation, particularly when he made me strip in front of Hargreaves. So I’m amazed at the suggestion. I don’t take long to think about it.
Second Chances (Blood Brothers #3) Page 29
