Sold To The Sheik (3 page)

It seemed a lifetime ago that I’d been a headstrong, confident young woman on the brink of what I’d thought was going to be a grand adventure. A sob felt trapped in my chest when I let my thoughts wander too closely to the edge of what had been. Would I never return home? Were my parents frantic with worry? I couldn’t stand the thought of my loved ones in pain. Tears glistened on my cheek but I didn’t bother wiping them away. If he wanted my virginity, then he could have my tears as well. It was a package deal.

“You are breathtaking.”

I startled at his soft voice at my back. I didn’t turn around, but focused my stare out the wide window, wishing I were a bird so I could fly away. I was beyond the point of trying to hide my nakedness; it’d been hours since I’d been collared and stripped, another way he sought to drive home the point that I was his possession.

I heard his footfall as his moved closer. The slither of his silken pants echoed in my mind and I found it hard to breathe.

“Your silhouette in the moonlight is something out of a dream. Your body was created by Allah for me alone,” he murmured, trailing his fingers lightly down the column of my spine until he reached where my tailbone met my lower back. I fought the shudder that traveled from my toes to the top of my head. I closed my eyes, hating the seductive nature of his voice and touch; I would rather he simply play true to what he really was, rather than attempt seduction. He exclaimed softly at the softness of my skin and even dared to slide one finger gently between the crack of my two halves. I stiffened and he chuckled. “Do not fret, my sweet. Your rosebud is not what I require this night.” Before I could relax, he stepped closer to whisper in my ear, “But I will have it. There is nothing I enjoy more than the first time in a virgin’s ass; the way the flesh clenches tightly around the cock in protest but then slowly yields to the assault to open like the lotus is the ultimate carnal dance…and I
will
take that dance with you, my pet. That’s a promise.” He stepped away, his voice suddenly sharp. “Turn around so that I may look upon your breasts.”

I squeezed my eyes tighter, wishing I was anywhere but here; wishing I were back in my country studying something excruciatingly dull such as trigonometry; but mostly, desperately wishing his voice at my ear hadn’t caused my private parts to slick with warm moisture. Against my will, I turned slowly but I refused to meet his gaze. I stared at a point just beyond his shoulder. He may touch my body but he would not have me.

His sharp inhale surprised me and I raised startled eyes to his in spite of my previous vow to let nothing of him touch me inside. He came forward, his hands cupping my breasts and filling his hands with the weighty flesh. “Exquisite,” he murmured with open joy. “Such creamy skin without a single blemish.”

I couldn’t stand his open assessment of my body nor the possessive feel of his hands touching me with such pleasure and quickly raised my hands to cover my breasts but I was stopped by a single, sharp word uttered in warning.

“No.”

I bit back a cry of helplessness and clenched my hands at my side. He saw my rigid stance and took a step away. “You will yield to me,” he stated matter-of-fact. “You would save yourself much pain and suffering if you would yield sweetly rather than my forcing your submission.”

“I’m not like your other girls. I will never yield willingly.”

“I know you are not like my other pets. I did not want more of the same.” He walked away, crooking his finger at me to follow. When I hesitated, he stopped and growled a warning. “I can make this evening unpleasant or pleasurable…which shall it be?”

I wavered, unsure how he thought I would ever enjoy anything he could do to me, but I didn’t want to test how unpleasant he could make things so I grudgingly followed. The collar felt as if it were weighing me down, crushing my soul, which was exactly what he’d wanted when he’d forced me to wear the awful thing, the foreign bastard. “I will hate anything you do to me,” I said, unwilling to let him believe I would ever be a docile pet.

“We shall see,” he said cryptically as he went to the chaise lounge and sank into it. The way he sprawled across the chaise was frankly suggestive and even in the soft light I could see the outline of his enormous erection. I blushed and looked away but not before he caught where my stare had drifted. He loosened the drawstrings to his silken pants and before I could gasp a protest, his cock was in his palm.

“Oh God,” I squeaked, covering my face with my hands. “Put it away, please!”

“Come. Kneel beside me, pet,” he directed firmly, expecting my obedience. When I refused, he rose swiftly and buried his hand in my hair, forcing me to my knees. I cried out as his pants dropped to the floor and his engorged member slapped my cheek. The warm head was smooth and as silky as the pants he’d just discarded. He was devoid of hair, smooth as granite everywhere. “A gentle hand is doing you no favors,” he observed, his hand still painfully clutched tight against my scalp, causing fresh tears to spring to my eyes. He thrust his hips and his cock nudged at my mouth even as I seamed my lips shut. He smelled of clean, male skin yet the faint musky odor that clung to the soft, tender area between his thighs did strange things to my insides. “You are mine. Do you hear me? Take my cock in your mouth. Now.” When I staged a mute protest, glaring at him through a sheen of tears, he pulled harder against my scalp and I yelped. “I am your Master. You will live and breathe for my pleasure. Now, take my cock and suck it or I will introduce you to punishment without the benefit of pleasure. I promise you I can make you beg for mercy and wish you were dead.”

“I hate you,” I whispered.

His gaze hardened. “Then it will not matter if I take you like a whore your first time.” He thrust me away from him and I stumbled onto my rear. He didn’t watch to see where I landed. Instead he strode to a tall cabinet and pulled it open. “American girls are spoiled by an overdeveloped sense of self, but the irony is that most never truly discover their true identities until it is forced upon them by circumstance.” He closed the cabinet and turned around, holding a wicked looking whip and restraints.

“Noooo,” I shrieked, scrambling to my feet but he was faster than me. Within seconds, my hands were wrenched behind my back and tied tightly. He scooped me into his arms even though I kicked and thrashed in an attempt to get away. “Please, no!” I begged, gulping back frightened mewling noises rising in the back of my throat.

He ignored my pleas and tossed me to the bed. I landed on my stomach with an
oompfh
but before I could roll to my back, he was straddling me. His cock nudged at my back door and I shrieked against the fear he might sodomize me as punishment. “Shhh,” he crooned softly. “You want this my pet. You just don’t know it yet.”

I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t. I swear I don’t!”

“Your body says otherwise,” he said, sliding his hand down my crack and moving to the damp slit between my thighs. I groaned, hating that my hips wanted to lift to give him better access. I choked back my cry of embarrassment as he slipped a single finger into my strangely aching folds. A wild pulsing had begun to thrum inside me, making a mockery of my protests. I was overwhelmed by the contradictory feelings cascading through me, ruining my self-respect and shattering my dignity. I moaned as his finger went deeper and that warm, slippery sensations inside me intensified. He withdrew his finger and I turned my head in time to see him pop his finger into his mouth, tasting my essence. I shuddered and looked away, my cheeks hot.

He leaned forward, his cock pressing against my rear, as he murmured against my neck, “You taste like sweet honey. I can’t wait to bury my tongue in your slick wetness. Shall I make you cum before I take your maidenhead? Do you deserve to cum? No, you do not,” he answered firmly but admitted with a tinge of irritation. “But I confess, your taste and smell are a wicked temptation. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman. For your insolence, I should fuck you so hard that you can’t walk for da
ys. I want to plow through your slick heat
and make it truly mine in a way that is raw and primal but fortunately, for you, I am no randy boy. I can control myself long enough to fuck you properly. Would you like me to fuck you nicely or take you like a whore?”

I buried my face in the bed, afraid to answer. I didn’t know what I wanted. All I knew was that I was shamed by the realization that my body refused to listen to my brain and it simply wanted to feel something fill it. I squirmed as he climbed off me and rolled me to my back. It was uncomfortable lying on my hands but as his eyes glazed at the sight of my breasts heaving with each breath, I realized I liked the power I had over him as much as he liked his power over me. My belly trembled as he spread my legs to his gaze. Madame CoCo had waxed every pubic hair from my mound —
openly delighting in the pain she’d caused —
but it was apparent that Omar approved of my bare folds.

“Sweet Allah, you are perfection,” he murmured, hooking my legs over his shoulders and drawing my hot center to his greedy mouth. I gulped in tight, shallow breaths, horrified and aroused at the same time. Seeing myself completely at his mercy, my legs thrown over his shoulders as his face lowered to my quivering folds ignited something new and foreign inside me. A loud moan escaped me the second his quick and clever tongue delved inside me, searching and finding that burning, swollen centerpiece at my core, demanding his attention. His firm hands gripped the flesh of my behind, pulling me to him so that no matter how hard I squirmed, I was helpless to evade the marauding assault of his wet and wiggling tongue. He moved in slow, assured swipes across my clitoris, teasing another mewling sound from my lips as I sank further into a dark place where I became simply a flesh and blood woman sliding beneath the waves of complete and utter obliteration. His finger entered me while his tongue worked devilish circles of building pleasure and my hips actually yearned to press harder against his mouth, silently begging for more. Something big was welling inside me, as my heartrate quickened and my breath became an urgent pant.

“W-what are you d-doing to me?” I gasped, barely able to make out the words. Sweat slicked my body, matching the dampness between my legs. “S-Stop!” I begged, afraid of losing complete control over my own body. But he seemed deaf to my pleas, intent on sending me over the edge. Somehow I knew if I went over that ledge, I would change —
that tumbling over that precipice would stamp out the protests and denials that I was clinging to and soften me toward him —
and I couldn’t let that happen. I struggled to get free, to block out the bone-melting pleasure that was slowly eating away at my resolve to hate him and anything he could do to me. “N-no,” I moaned, but I was sinking fast.

His finger strummed a secret spot deep inside my shaking body, coaxing something free just as his tongue flicked a torturous staccato beat against my clitoris until I was totally lost to the pleasure that caused me to moan and gasp like the pampered whore he wanted me to be. At that moment I would’ve gladly taken his cock into my mouth and sucked it down my throat as readily as Belinda had; I would’ve offered my ass to him with spread cheeks —
whatever he wanted, I’d give. I was past shame, past knowing my own mind. All that mattered was the encroaching pleasure that marched toward me with unerring accuracy. Omar drove two fingers, then three inside me, pushing and stretching until I was no longer aware of anything but pleasure.

And then it happened.

I broke into a million pieces, flying apart like brittle glass against a cool granite floor. “Ohhhhhh, Goddd,” I cried, almost unable to breathe, unable to think, only able to babble nonsensical words as the pleasure crashed down around me, drenching me in sweat and my own fluids. I slowly came back to the moment and opened my eyes. My chest still rose and fell with sharp, labored breaths as the aftershocks of what he’d done to me still rocked my body. His face, glistening from my juices, wore a self-satisfied smile but there was a feral light in his eyes that caused a deep shudder at the possessiveness I saw there. I swallowed, my mouth dry from all the moaning and crying out. Awareness returned and I wanted to hide my face from his knowing stare. His expression gentled and he gathered me in his arms as if I were a child to be comforted and not a young woman. His cock twitched beneath my bare bottom but he didn’t try to nudge himself inside me. He simply held me. I stiffened at first, but then the tears came and it was as if a dam had broken.

It seemed several minutes before the tears stopped. He wiped my tears away and once he thought I would listen, he said, “When Belinda first came to me, she was like a feral creature. Nothing like the beautiful, serene and wise woman you see now. Cassie, a sweet fragile girl, sobbed endlessly for days but now her joyful smile can light the world. And Scarlet? She was misguided in believing she was a lesbian, but soon learned she simply yearned for the right touch. Now, she begs for my cock more ardently than the rest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked with a soft hiccup.

“Because I want to show you that there is no shame —
only joy —
in accepting your true nature.”

“But I’m not like them,” I protested. “I have family who will be out of their mind worried about me. I have ambition and dreams and goals that never included being someone’s…whore.”

“Sometimes fate steps in and reveals our true nature in unorthodox ways,” he countered.

“I don’t believe that. I’ll never be happy here,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I’ll always wish to leave no matter how many times you make me cum.”