Possession of the Sheikh: (Interracial BWWM Erotica) (The Men of Sharjah Series Book 2) (13 page)

Chapter Eleven

Just a few days after their departure, Khalil and Malik returned to Sharjah, and true to his word, Khalil had brought Amir back with them.  I didn’t see much of Khalil at first, and what I did see of Amir, made me not want to see anymore.  His appearance was gaunt, his eyes desolate.  He looked liked a man who was lost.  I knew that look and those feelings far too well, so I avoided him as often as possible, but I didn’t have to do so for very long because almost as soon as he returned he left for the States upon learning of Daniella’s whereabouts.  I was relieved when Amir departed because his presence was akin to picking at an open wound, reminding me at every encounter what love could do to you when it went wrong. 

My marriage to Khalil was falling apart, and I only had myself to blame.  The night before he’d left for Dubai he’d given me the opportunity to tell him the truth, about us, about my fears and insecurities—he’d offered me a chance to reveal to him that he wasn’t the only one who wanted our marriage to work, and that there was no doubt in my mind I could one day grow to love him, because I already did. He’d risked a lot, I already knew, by even broaching the subject of the future of our marriage, and more importantly our feelings, but instead of being honest, I found myself returning to old habits.  I’d protected my heart with a lie. 

Yes, I was still upset that he wasn’t being truthful with me about his dominant nature, but that didn’t give me any excuse to go and lie.  But when he’d asked me if we could ever have a normal marriage, that was exactly what I’d done and within the span of seconds things had gone from bad to worse.  When I finished showering and entered our bedroom, silence and an empty bed had greeted me, and that was the first night of many to follow that we slept apart. While he’d been away in Dubai our telephone conversations had been brief and strained, and our interactions now that he was back, weren’t much better. It had started out as a small disagreement about that stupid room of his, but it had morphed into something that seemed insurmountable because there was still so much that remained unresolved from our past.  We barely saw each other, and when we did, we hardly spoke, and who knows how long we would have continued trudging through this insufferable purgatory had Amir not returned with Daniella.

With Daniella pregnant, and Amir and Khalil working long hours to transform the political structure of Sharjah so that the entire government didn’t come to a grinding halt if a future regent was to step down ever again, Khalil and I had moved into the main palace residence.

“There’s plenty of space,” Amir had pointed out.  “And since we’re both newlyweds, we won’t have to be so far away from our wives and for so long while we conduct business.” 

Amir’s gesture had been entirely genuine, but I was sure he knew that our marriage was a far cry from what he now shared with Daniella.  Being so close to the happy couple was more than a little depressing, but their intense desire and affection toward each other was what made me long to know my husband’s touch again to the point I actually physically ached from the need.

I’d been furious with him at first, when before he’d left for Dubai he’d made mention that I was failing to fulfill the
duties
of our agreement, especially considering he was the one who’d made the decision to leave our bed.  It had been weeks since we’d last made love, and now I was actually mad at myself because I yearned for him, while he walked around stoic and detached as if our passionless nights weren’t starting to get to him, when I knew they were. 

I could tell being around a couple as ardent as Amir and Daniella made Khalil that much more aware of the absence of our own passionate nights than he let on—that he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. He thought I didn’t see the brief glances, or the longing in his eyes whenever our gazes met.  There were some times when I would catch him staring, and the desire smoldering in his eyes was so powerful I would actually have to remind myself to breathe.

Just that morning, I’d been ensnared by the unrelenting yearning in his darkly lashed gaze while the four of us sat across from each other at the breakfast table.  I was certain Khalil hadn’t even been aware of the raw desire radiating from him, but eventually I’d become completely overwhelmed, and not just by him. Between the open affection displayed by Daniella and Amir, and Khalil’s hungry stare—I’d been forced to excuse myself, and I’d returned to my room. 

Which was where I now kept myself locked away, as if I could guard against my own desires, but they were impossible to ignore, especially when the passionate sounds of lovemaking drifted into the living room through the open doors that led out onto the balcony.

“Seriously?”

This wasn’t the first time I’d overheard Daniella and Amir making love in the garden.  Actually, this wasn’t the first time I’d overheard them period.  Whenever the two of them
weren’t
working, having sex was all they seemed to do, to the point I was starting to think they didn’t actually talk anymore—until I remembered Khalil and I didn’t talk either, and since we definitely weren’t having sex, I decided maybe those in glass houses needed to keep their thoughts out of other people’s business.

I started across the room so that I could shut the balcony doors but drew up short when the other door leading into our main quarters opened and then shut. Khalil and I basically shared the equivalent of a two bedroom two bath suite that had its own living and dining area, even though most of the time we ate with Daniella and Amir in the main dining room.  It was Sunday, so there was little to do and nowhere to go, so I was not surprised that with Amir otherwise
occupied
, Khalil had returned to our suite.  I’d intended to close the balcony doors and then retreat to my bedroom so that I wouldn’t have to encounter Khalil, because with my heightened awareness of him I was vulnerable right now.

When the noises coming from the gardens grew louder, I rushed across the room to firmly shut the balcony doors, but even with that, I could still make out the distinct moans and groans of sex, and I knew Khalil could too. 

He stood across from me, the solid muscles of his masculine body drawing my gaze as rivulets of sweat trickled down his bare chest.  He’d been working out in the palace gym and I felt my cheeks grow warm as I followed one single droplet until it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jersey shorts.  I willed my gaze not to travel lower, but I couldn’t stop myself, and I actually heard my heart rhythm speed up as I watched the impressive bulge in Khalil’s shorts swell and harden with arousal.  He clutched a white t-shirt in one fist, and his hand curled tighter as I watched his chest expand and retract from taking deep, long breaths.

“Sabeen.” He said my name on a ragged moan, as if the word tortured him.  My gaze immediately snapped to his face, and what I saw there sent a throbbing surge of heat straight to my core.

Before I could even take my text breath, Khalil dropped the shirt, crossed the room and dragged me up against him.  He crushed his lips against mine taking full possession of my mouth with hot, wet thrusts of his tongue.  The feverish intensity with which he tore my sundress from my body made me yelp and I drew back slightly, only to see that his hands actually shook.  Mine trembled just a little too as I reached for the waistband of his shorts, and helped him shove them down the length of his powerful thighs.  I was practically on my knees so when he stepped out of his shorts the thick, heavy flesh of his cock bobbed before my face.  Grasping his thickness in my hand, I decided to settle on my knees completely.

He called my name, and tried to stop me by raking his hand through my hair but he was soon rendered powerless when I pressed forward to take the swollen head of his cock into my mouth.  Khalil now grasped the back of my head, more to anchor him than anything as I descended on his turgid flesh, taking him hard and deep until the tip of his dick brushed against the back of my throat.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, his fingers gripping my head tighter.  I bobbed up and down on his length, my lips creating a deep, vacuum suction.  With one hand, I fisted the base of his cock, while I used the other to massage the heavy sac of his balls.  As I worked my mouth up and down his dick faster, taking him deeper every time, I knew he was close to losing control, by the way his cock jerked against my tongue.

“Fuck, Nala, you’re about to make me come.”

My only response was to moan, sending tiny vibrations across his sensitive flesh which finally made him erupt.

He came on a long, hoarse groan as he held me tight by the back of my head with both hands digging into my scalp.

The first spurt of semen hit my tongue and I had barely swallowed it before it was followed by another and then another.

I struggled to work my throat fast enough to keep up with the copious amounts of cum he ejaculated into my mouth, and I realized he knew it when he grunted, “That’s it Nala, swallow all of my pent up cum from weeks of denying me
my
pussy.”

I should have known he would punish me at some point.  Even in his needy state, he still managed to wield a measure of dominance over me, and I was all too willing to submit as I swallowed every last drop of his seed. When he finally released my head and pulled out of my mouth, that’s when I noticed he hadn’t softened. I looked up at him, but I had no moment to question him, because within the next instant, he joined me on the carpeted floor of our living room, stretched out atop me and hooked his arms beneath my legs until I was spread wide before him.

Giving him pleasure had left me wet with arousal, but I still didn’t think I was quite ready, especially not when I glimpsed the wild, frenzied look in his eyes.

“Khalil—”

I tried to slow him down by calling his name, but he swallowed up by voice when he slammed his lips against mine, and claimed my mouth with forceful strokes of his tongue.  Seconds later, his cock did the same.  At first he teased against my wet opening, sinking the thick head inside before retreating and doing it all over again, as if testing my readiness, and when he was satisfied, Khalil surged forward burying every single inch of himself inside me on one deep, sure thrust.

I moaned, but his mouth still possessed mine, so the sound was engulfed by his kiss as he took me hard and fast, riding my body with deep pounding strokes until another mini orgasm shook him and he came inside of me as he groaned out his pleasure, his face pressed into the curve of my neck. I expected him to lift himself off of me, as a form of punishment to leave me still wet and horny.  But instead, he rolled over onto his back, and pulled me with him.  He managed to keep our bodies joined so that I was poised above him, my knees straddling his hips. I noticed then that even though he wasn’t fully erect, he still hadn’t completely gone down, and this time I pointed out the obvious.

He shrugged.  “This has never happened before.” His expression changed until a dark glower spread across his handsome features.  “I’m sure this has something to do with my body’s addiction to you and the forced weeks of celibacy you put me through.”

“Me?” I glared at him.  “I wasn’t the one who left our bed.”

“I’m sorry, but laying next to my wife who’s hell bent on keeping her legs closed to me indefinitely just meant lonely, sleepless nights.  I figured if I was going to be alone anyway, I might as well at least get some sleep.”

“You’re a pig.  This is all about sex to you.”

His eyes narrowed in anger.  “I wanted more, but you didn’t, Nala.  So right now, yes this is all about sex.” 

I ignored the lurching of my heart at his words, which were past tense.  He’d
wanted
more, and now he didn’t—”

“Ride me.”

I stared down at him, at first in disbelief and then with barely contained fury because from his desire laden stare to the hardening length of his cock inside me I knew he was actually serious.  Between his quickie performance and complete dismissal of the reasons
why
we hadn’t had sex in so long, I almost smacked him.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do.”

I swore I almost slapped him, but I knew he would catch my wrist before my palm could hit its mark, so I moved to get off of him instead. But he wouldn’t let me, which caused me to struggle against him until I finally shouted, “Let me go.”

“We’re not done yet,” he said firmly.  “I’ve never lost control like that before, and I want to make it up to you. Ride me, Nala. Please.”

His expression was earnest, and I could tell he was sincere, but I was still pissed.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” I tried to get off of him again, but he held firm.  “Let—me—
go
,” I fumed.

“I want to see your tits jiggle as you bounce up and down on my dick, so you can either ride me, or I will bind your wrists and bounce you up and down on my cock myself. Your choice.”

The image he presented sent a spike of heat shooting down my spine.  It was so shameful, that my desire now rivaled my anger, but out of pride alone I held my ground.  When I neither moved, nor did I open my mouth to say anything, Khalil simply shook his head and sighed, and with lightening quick movements, he reached over to grab his shirt and sat up.  Without separating our bodies his hands shot around my back, and with the practiced expertise of a skilled dominant, he did exactly as he’d warned—he bound my wrists behind me.