The Sheik's Angry Bride (9 page)

He pulled her closer.  “You’re not fine.”

She decided to give him part of her concerns.  “You’re going to take me out of here in a few minutes, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied.  No quibbling about that response.

“Everyone here, the entire country, will know what you are planning, what we’re going to be doing.”  Her eyes were lowered but when he just stood there, not saying a word, she looked up at him. 

He was smiling!  The rat was laughing at her. 

With a huff, she almost reached up and smacked his arm but she restrained herself.  It wouldn’t do for the guests from around the world to see her smacking her new husband.  That definitely wouldn’t look good on the tabloids of the world.  She could just imagine women all around the world standing in line at the grocery store and laughing at how she’d punched her husband on her wedding day.  “You’re right,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster and trying very hard not to follow through on that punching instinct.  “I’m being silly.  Let’s just get this over with.”

She was turning to head for the exit, more than ready to do walk out of this reception all on her own.  Maybe others might think she was just exiting for a slight break in the celebrations if she could…. 

Garon realized what she was going to do and pulled her back to his side, not letting her go even when she struggled.  “I’m sorry,” he told her, his lips very close to her ear.  “I wasn’t laughing at you, Layla.  I was just surprised at what you were worried about.  I thought you were concerned about what was going to happen.  Not the fact that everyone here knows it is going to happen.”

She was once again surprised at how astute he was.  “Well, that too,” she replied, trying to be honest with him since he was so perfectly on track. 

His hand slid around her waist more securely and she felt his thumb gently rubbing against the fabric of her dress.  Even through the beadwork and layers of fabric, that touch still sent excitement racing through her body. 

“So yesterday didn’t help?  You’re still afraid of what is going to happen?”

She looked away from him.  “Yesterday actually made things worse.” She looked around, her eyes glancing everywhere but at him. 

She felt his hand grip hers and her eyes darted back up to his.  “How could yesterday make things worse?  Explain.”  Then he raised his hand, stopping her from speaking.  “No.  This is not a conversation we are going to have in the middle of five hundred people.”  With that, he placed her hand on his arm and led her out of the reception. 

Layla lowered her head when the cheers and clapping started and she tried to pretend that she was somewhere other than here.  She wasn’t walking through a ballroom packed with strangers, family and friends to a private room where this man is going to do wicked things to her.  No, this simply wasn’t happening. 

She was actually walking down a pathway to a tropical island.  She pictured the warm sun on her shoulders, the stone pathway, the wind rustling the palm fronds overhead…

“Are you still with me?” Garon said as they stepped out of the room. 

She sighed, the tropical island dissipating in her head.  “Yes,” she replied back with as confident a voice as possible.  Unfortunately, it came out only as a whisper.  When she looked up though, she found that they were no longer surrounded by all of their wedding guests.  The only people in the hallway with them were the guards that always surrounded Garon. 

And her shivering became even more intense.  He felt that instantly and tightened his hold on her hand.  When they reached his private quarters, he pulled her inside and closed the doors before turning to face her. 

“Okay, talk to me,” he said, dropping her hand and moving deeper into the suite.  He stopped in front of a bar and poured two glasses of something that looked delicious but she wasn’t exactly sure what it was.  Handing one to her, he took a stiff sip of his own glass. 

Layla watched in fascination as he divested himself of the formal, stiff jacket, tossing it over one of the chairs in the sitting room, unconcerned about all of the metals and ribbons that jangled with the callous treatment.   He was still wearing a tailored shirt but that extra fine cotton stretched over his extremely broad shoulders, making her feel small and more than a little defenseless. 

“Layla, if you continue to look at me like that, there will be no talking.  At least not for a long time.”

She jerked out of her thoughts of his shoulders and looked up at him, caught the heated expression in his eyes and shuddered.  She took a sip of the liquid in the glass, then coughed.  “What is this?” she asked, trying to catch her breath as the fire from the liquid burned her throat.

“Brandy.  I was hoping you might be more relaxed after a drink.”

She shook her head and set the glass down on the table nearest her.  “Not working,” she choked out. 

“Hell,” he mumbled and a moment later, he moved closer to her, taking her into his arms.  His hands framed her face as he lowered his head, intending only to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and try, somehow, to reassure her that things would be okay.  Better than okay, he thought.

But then she moved her lips under his and he lost control.  The need to possess her overwhelmed him and he couldn’t hold back.  Her whimper of need and the way her hands slid up the front of his chest added to that urgency.  And also the realization that this was his wife.  This was his woman.  She was finally his.  He had only known her for a few days, but it didn’t matter.  He wanted her, she was his and she was in his arms.  He had to have her. 

Lifting her up, he carried her into his bedroom.  When he was there, he lowered her legs and slowly, with as much reverence as he could, unwrapped this beautiful woman that was his wife from her wedding finery.  That crazy possessiveness removed all thoughts from his mind except for the need to please her, to drive her just as crazy with need as he felt.

Layla tried to think.  She tried to remain cool and passive in this activity. But he was kissing her with a reverence and passion that was spinning her out of her mind.  She had no idea how it had happened, but suddenly, she was standing in front of him naked except for her bra and underwear.  And her high heeled shoes.

And where on earth had his shirt gone?  She didn’t care!  Her fingers were now free to touch and explore.  She realized she hadn’t done much of that yesterday, too shocked and crazed to do much more than react when he’d touched her.  But now!  Now she could touch and explore!  She leaned her head forward, unable to stop her lips from pressing a kiss against the middle of his chest.  There was an indentation at the bottom of his sternum that was just fascinating to her.  She ran her finger over the indentation, back and forth, unaware that Garon was loosening the pins in her hair.  Her hands moved off to the sides while her mouth moved in for another kiss and her fingers accidentally moved over the flat, male nipple.  When that happened, she heard him hiss air through his teeth so she tried it again and got the same reaction. 

It was addictive, she realized, making him moan or hiss.  She moved her hands everywhere, searching for more places that would cause him to make a sound.  The best was when her hands moved lower over his rippled stomach, following the interesting line of dark hair that disappeared below the waistband of his slacks. 

Garon waited, his hands still as he wondered what she would do. When her fingers hesitated, he couldn’t hold off any longer.  His hands moved quickly, dispensing with his slacks and his boxers, standing in front of her naked.  “Now what?” he asked, hoping and praying that she would continue. 

She looked up at him, her face pink with both embarrassment as well as fascination.  “I can’t…”

“You can,” he told her and he took her hand, ignoring the way she tried to pull back.  He wrapped her hand and fingers around his erection, closing his eyes at how good it felt.  “Layla,” he whispered. 

And because she liked the way he said her name so much, and couldn’t believe how interesting that part of him felt, she continued to touch him, running her fingers tentatively over the shaft, feeling all of him.  Her fingertips explored the skin, amazed at how hard it actually felt. 

“Layla!” he grumbled, louder this time but she ignored him.  She ignored the odd sensations low in her belly that were tightening in that weird way that they’d done the previous afternoon.  She ignored the heat emanating from him and all of her thoughts that were telling her that a lady wouldn’t do something like this.   She knelt down in front of him and she ignored the cursing from above, too intent on exploring this part of Garon, this forbidden part that she wanted to understand. 

Her fingers still touched and explored and when she wrapped her fingers around him, there were guttural, ferocious sounds from his chest.  She realized that his hands were fisted in her hair but she didn’t care.  All she wanted was to…did she dare?  Could she really do it?  She looked at his male member, her heart beating so hard, so fast.  And she dared!  She wanted so badly to do this so she leaned closer, her tongue darting out and quickly retreating. 

Glancing up at him, she was afraid of his reaction but she couldn’t see his face because he had his head thrown back and his jaw was clenching.  “Am I doing it wrong?”

Garon couldn’t believe her words.  He couldn’t believe she was able to speak because he wasn’t sure if he was able to respond.  But he saw the worried look in her eyes and he pulled up every ounce of control he could and shook his head.  “Layla, I guarantee that you’re doing it exactly right.  In fact, I don’t think there is a wrong way.” 

He tried to loosen the curls from his fist, afraid he might be hurting her scalp but then her mouth closed over the tip and he roared with the pleasure of her wet, hot mouth on his male member. 

He shook his head and lifted her up, unable to endure her tentative ministrations any longer.  “I can’t take any more of it, Layla,” he growled as he lifted her into his arms and laid her on his bed.  He couldn’t even take the time to look at her, needing to touch her, explore her just as she’d done to him.  He wanted to show her what she’d done to him in the most basic way. 

Holding her hands over her head, he kissed her, his tongue mating with hers until she was moving underneath him.  When he felt her respond, he moved to her neck, nibbling his way down her body.  He released the front closure of her bra but couldn’t take the time to remove it, too intent on kissing and touching those perfect mounds.  When she screamed out, he moved to her other nipple, biting, nipping and sucking until she screamed and tried to pull away from him.  He laughed, a deep sexy sound when she tried to offer her breast back to him.  He quickly took the offering, making her scream and move and only when she tried to pull away did he release that prize. 

Moving lower, he nibbled at the soft, sensitive flesh of her stomach, then moved lower.  She tried to close her legs but his big body was already between them and he wasn’t allowing her to hide from him in any way. 

When he moved lower, he felt her try to pull her hands away.  He let go of her wrists but only so that he could do this part of his woman justice.  When he felt her hands in his hair, he ignored her tugs as well as her cries of “No!” and just had his way. 

When his tongue darted against her thigh, he almost laughed with the joy of how responsive she was.  She jerked and tried to scoot higher, but he had hold of her hips and held her down, pulling her right back to his mouth where he licked and teased his way to his goal. 

When he pulled that sensitive bud into his mouth, he heard her scream as she lifted her hips up, almost offering him her body.  He might have laughed, but he was too intent on making her scream out again so he slipped one finger inside of her, then two, all the while, moving around, teasing, tasting, sucking.  When the scream came again, he could feel her body explode around his fingers and his mouth and he thought it was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

Moving back up, he positioned himself right at her entrance but he waited, wanting to see her eyes as he entered her for the first time as husband and wife. When her eyes finally fluttered open and he saw the sensual smile on her beautiful mouth, he almost groaned with need but still he held back. 

“Look at me Layla,” he commanded.  She sighed and looked up into his eyes, and he moved slowly into her heat, gritting his teeth because she felt so incredibly good.  “You’re mine,” he told her even while his mouth was still kissing her and his body was fighting to hold back so that he could pleasure her one more time.  “Put your hands on me, Layla.”

She arched against him while her hands moved up to his shoulders.  As he pushed into her heat, she felt him pressing, stretching her.  She waited for the pain but it wasn’t there this time.  It was only intense pleasure as he filled her up, making her feel more complete than she ever had in her life. 

Her hands moved down from his shoulders to his chest and she ran her fingers through that dark hair, loving the way he felt against her.  When he was fully inside of her, she pulled her knees up around his hips, taking him even deeper into her body and she gasped at how perfect, how full and amazing it felt. 

He shifted until he was right where he wanted to be, her body wrapped around him, her legs around his waist and her hands on his shoulders and arms.  He didn’t move for a long moment, savoring this time, this intense pleasure at just being a part of her.  “Now you’re going to release all that control again.  You’re going to fall apart in my arms and you’re going to continue to scream out for me.”