What if someone walks in right now, she thought, and the thought made her even more wet as she felt the Sheikh’s finger tease its way into her rear hole as his mouth smothered her vagina. She closed her eyes and moaned, imagining a pair of young newlyweds walking in arm-in-arm only to see the sophisticated vintner of the Ashland Winery spread wide on the counter, a dark, tall Arabian king eating her pussy out as he pushed his middle finger into her asshole.
“The pinot is good this season,” she imagined herself saying to the shocked couple as she looked up at them while the Sheikh kept licking her like they were dogs in heat. “Give me a minute to come and then I’ll give you both a taste.”
Nat screamed as she came, the fantasy taking her over the edge so fast she was laughing hysterically as her climax hit full-force, her neck tensing up as she came with the Sheikh’s face buried deep between her legs, both her holes filled, her legs spread as far as they could go. She felt filthy in the best possible way, and she laughed again when she saw Zameer raise his face up from her crotch and grin wildly at her as he stepped back from the counter and ripped off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and was stripped naked before she came down from the exhilarating high of that semi-public orgasm.
“Oh,” was all she could say when she saw his bronze, hard body in all its glory. His chest was massive, with thick pectorals that Nat decided were bigger than her boobs but all muscle. His nipples were dark and tight, perfect circles punctuating the slabs of muscle that looked chiseled from brown stone. She could see every layer of muscle in his abdomen defined with astonishing clarity, a thin veneer of perspiration making them shine like he was primed and oiled like a bull ready to impregnate a field of cows.
His cock was standing straight out, and it looked thicker than one of her wine bottles as Nat stared at it with a mixture of fascination and shock. It had been years since she’d seen a man naked, and she’d never, ever seen a man naked like this.
Will that even fit, she wondered as she watched the Sheikh stroke himself up to a hardness that heightened her waning orgasm, and she moaned loudly as the upward curve of his throbbing erection revealed his massive balls, heavy and full, making her think once again of that bull snorting and stamping, readying itself to take every female as many times as it cared.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked matter-of-factly as he took a step towards where she sat on the counter, still spread, still wet, her dress pushed up above her waist.
She shook her head, unable to speak, still mesmerized by the glistening red dome of his cock, the long brown shaft of his rod, those big balls that were lazily swinging as the Sheikh came close. He was tall enough that his erection reached above the counter, and he began to gently slap his cock against her clit and vagina as Nat gasped at the sight of the veins streaking down his flat stomach, pumping blood to his muscular hips and lower body.
“You are not on birth control?” he asked, slapping his cock down harder as Nat propped herself up on her elbows and arched her neck back as she wondered if she was still coming. “Then you keep condoms with you?”
Nat shook her head again. “No.”
The Sheikh raised an eyebrow, reaching out and pressing her breasts as he laid his erection against her wet slit and began to move back and forth. “So you simply trust every man you sleep with to bring his own condoms?”
Nat gasped as she felt his strong hands gather her full breasts and squeeze hard, his fingers searching for her nipples through the thin cloth of her blue dress. Then he had both nipples firmly pinched, and he plucked at them until they were hard points beneath her bra, smiling and cocking his head as he moved back and forth in an intoxicating rhythm.
“I’m not . . .” she gasped, a momentary feeling of dissociation coming across her when she realized she was about to get fucked on her countertop in the main winery building in the middle of the goddamn day. Her workers were out in the fields. There could be guests and customers driving up at any time. Hell, Peggy could show up with her husband and two kids and maybe her entire Finance 101 class of nineteen-year-olds! “. . . I’m not sleeping with anyone right now,” she managed to say before gasping and closing her eyes as she felt the heavy tip of his cock rub against her clit rough and hard.
“Why not?” the Sheikh asked, not a hint of hesitation in his voice as he kneaded her breasts and then moved his hands down along her sides, rubbing her hips. “You like sex, yes?”
“Um . . . yes,” Nat muttered as she felt his big hands push her dress up past her stomach and over her boobs. “Of course.”
“Then why are you not having it?” he asked, pulling her dress off over her head and tossing it behind the counter.
“I think I’m about to,” she replied, giggling once and then gasping again when the Sheikh grabbed her bra by the underwire and pulled it up over her breasts, releasing her globes.
“Ya Allah,” he groaned, his eyes going wide as he glanced at her heavy breasts, her big red nipples, all peaked and hard from the way he’d been pinching them through the cloth. “You are all woman, Ms. Norwood. All woman, and all mine.”
Nat giggled again. “Ms. Norwood. That’s funny. Not so long ago you called me a fat whore.”
The Sheikh glanced up at her, a frown passing across his face. “I did no such thing.”
“Oh, my God! Yes, you did! You asked if I was one of Siddiqui’s girls, and then you commented that he likes them big!”
The Sheikh grunted as he teased her slit with his cock, which felt warm and heavy against her. Slowly he gathered her naked breasts in his hands and firmly squeezed, making her moan again. “Big is not the same as fat. I was talking about your breasts and rear.”
Nat arched her neck back and snorted with laughter. “Oh, great. So I’m not fat; I just have big boobs and a massive ass.”
The Sheikh laughed. “Speaking of which, let me see.”
“See what?”
“Your rear. Come. Turn for me.”
Nat blinked as she felt herself go red with self-consciousness. “I will do no such thing.”
The Sheikh straightened to full height, his cock lifting off her slit, its tip leaving a trail of pre-cum that still connected them. “The deal was what I want, when I want, how I want. Yes?”
Nat took a breath as she considered what he said and what she’d agreed to without really thinking. Slowly she nodded and turned, getting on her knees and raising her ass for him on her counter. She could still feel a hint of self-consciousness, but it faded when she heard the Sheikh groan out loud and mutter in Arabic, his voice thick with arousal.
“Jawlat walkamala,” he whispered, and Nat could feel his warm breath against her naked rump. “Big and beautiful. Now spread for me.”
“What? No!” she said, giggling once and half-turning as she went up on her knees, clamping her buttcheeks together.
“You do not have the option of disobeying,” Zameer growled from behind her. The Sheikh’s voice was stern, deep, and its tenor made her shudder. “Bend down, on your elbows, raise your ass and spread for me.”
Nat hesitated, wondering again what the scene would be if someone walked in right now. Or, heaven forbid, a minute from now when she was spread wide, butt raised, her asshole on display on the countertop for all the world to see. Again the thought of someone seeing them made her wet, and she realized she was dripping onto the counter as she slowly maneuvered herself onto her elbows and raised her ass for the Sheikh.
“You’re sick,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she somehow sensed the Sheikh’s erection get stronger as her wetness flowed down the insides of her thighs. The atmosphere around them felt thick with arousal, and Nat shuddered as she positioned her knees, lowered her head, and spread for the Sheikh. “So sick.”
“You have no idea, Ms. Norwood,” he growled from behind her, and a moment later she felt his heavy paws on her buttcheeks, spreading her rear globes. “No
idea at all.”
11
TEN YEARS EARLIER
THE KINGDOM OF LADAAK
“You have no idea what you are doing, brother.”
“Shut up and drink up. Just open your throat and pour it down. Watch me.”
Zameer looked at his older brother Zayaan, the crown prince of Ladaak, regent to the throne. The two of them were alone in the Southern Wing of the Royal Palace of Ladaak. It had been thirty days since they’d buried their father, and the mourning period had officially concluded at the New Moon. In three hours the sun would rise over the golden dunes of the Ladaak desert, and two hours after that Zayaan would officially be named Sheikh and Supreme Ruler of the kingdom of Ladaak.
“This is your last taste of freedom, Zayaan,” Zameer said, smacking his lips and looking down at the two shotglasses made of fine European crystal. “Your last chance to feel what it is like to be a human. After today you will officially be the representative of Allah for all Ladaakis, and you will not have the luxury of disobeying the rules without anyone watching.”
“Someone is always watching,” Zayaan said, rubbing his bald spot and smiling at his younger brother.
Zameer laughed, pouring himself another shot from the tall bottle of ice-cold vodka. “Are you judging me, Great Sheikh of Ladaak?”
Zayaan took a breath, his eyes narrowing. “It is not for me to judge. Allah is the only one who judges, and He does it through a man’s conscience.” He paused and watched as Zameer downed his fourth shot of the night. “How does it feel to know you are violating His divine will?”
Zameer snorted, wiping his mouth with a black silk napkin. “Take a shot and you will see how it feels. Come. Think of it as medicine. A tonic.”
“Medicine for what? It is not I who am sick. It is you, brother.”
Zameer nodded. “Yes. Indeed I am sick, which is why I need my tonic. Come. Just a taste.” He watched as Zayaan narrowed his eyes again, looking down at his brother with that same put-on look of disapproval mixed with an underlying curiosity that Zameer had seen so often over the years. Zayaan was intelligent and conscientious, but he was easily swayed—especially by his confident and persuasive younger brother. “Just a taste,” he whispered.
Zameer watched as Zayaan rubbed his bald spot again and took a deep breath. Then the crown prince of Ladaak closed his eyes and reached for the glass, raising it to his lips and straightening his back as the two brothers sat alone on the sprawling verandah facing the dark dunes of the desert.
“Just a taste,” Zameer whispered again as he watched with a perverse satisfaction as Zayaan poured the forbidden liquid down his throat. “Just a taste.”
12
She tastes sweet like wine, the Sheikh thought as he licked his lips and swallowed. His face and stubble were still wet from when he’d gone down on her, and he could taste her tangy sweetness on his tongue. Ya Allah, there is no greater intoxicant than a woman, and I will drink deep and long, until I am drunk on her. Then I will leave. One week of indulgence, and then I will close down this place and return to the path I have chosen. The righteous path. The path to salvation. The path to forgiveness.
“What are you doing?” she asked, and the Sheikh was broken from his daydream to find that he was in another dream, a dream where this woman was spread on a glass countertop, buttocks raised in the air at his command, a gentle breeze blowing in through the open windows all around them.
Outside the windows was lush green foliage and blue sky, the sound of the river and the songs of birds. The Sheikh smiled as he leaned forward and kissed Nat’s smooth rear, the left cheek and then the right. “Enjoying the scenery,” he whispered, placing his palms firmly on her ass and spreading her.
He gasped when her dark pink rear pucker revealed itself: clean, shiny, and perfect. He kissed it gently, his cock almost shooting its load all over the floorboards when he felt her shiver in arousal. With his mouth still on her asshole, he reached between her thighs from behind, finding her warm slit and quickly pushing two fingers inside her, as deep as they would go.
She came instantly it seemed, silently and with a shudder, a low moan emerging as she hung her head down as the ecstasy rocked her perfect body. Her wetness soaked his hand to the wrist, and he circled her rear hole with his stiff tongue as he pumped his fingers into her cunt, taking her through her climax and then back down again.
The Sheikh’s cock was throbbing by now, and he knew he would not be able to hold back much longer. He always carried his own condoms as a rule, but he had a desperate yearning to feel this woman from the inside, without anything between them. He glanced at her wet rear entry for a moment, and a wave of desire whipped through him as he gripped his cock and took a breath.
“Have you ever . . .” he began to say, placing his thumb between her buttcheeks and massaging her rim gently and then with more force.
“No,” she muttered, shaking her head vigorously. “And I don’t think I . . . I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”
The Sheikh took a breath. “I will decide what you are ready for, and when you are ready for it. Do you understand?”
He felt her tense up at his words and touch, and he smacked her bottom hard with his right hand, making her jump and turn her head in shock.
“You did not answer,” he said softly, his jaw tight, his cock so close to exploding he was surprised he hadn’t come all over her ass by now. His arousal was so strong he could barely see, but yet he felt a strange calmness, like he wanted to take his time with her, hold back his orgasm as long as possible even though he was certain he would get hard again within minutes with the way this woman made him feel. “I expect responses to my questions immediately. Do you understand?”
He smacked her again, this time on the other cheek, and his breath caught when he saw the smooth flesh of her ass quiver with the force of his slap. Two more tight slaps with his open palm and she turned her head and nodded, her eyes glazed over from what the Sheikh could tell was arousal that was taking her to another place. The same place he was in.
“Yes, I understand,” she whispered. “But—”
“I heard you. You say you are not ready for me, and I say you will be ready. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps in three days.” He paused and took a breath, his gaze sweeping across the glass countertop of the wine-store until he saw something that made him stiffen. “Until then,” he said, reaching for what he saw, “you will keep this in place. Keep it in place until I uncork you.”
“What?” she said, turning her head halfway, her eyes widening as the Sheikh stepped to his left and reached behind the counter for the massive 2-liter bottle of wine with the knobbed cork that looked as big as a golf-ball.
Without hesitation the Sheikh pulled the cork out with his teeth, grimacing as the smell of the wine hit him so hard he almost swooned from the memories it awakened. “Ya Allah,” he muttered, taking the cork from his mouth and staggering back to Nat, whose eyes were also as big as golf-balls as she understood where that cork was going.
“You cannot be serious,” she said, pushing herself back onto her haunches until her knees were tucked under her and her ass was firmly pressed against her ankles. “No way. Absolutely not.”
“What I want. When I want. How I want,” the Sheikh said, the dizziness brought on by the wine’s aroma passing as he grinned at her and stepped close. “Or we can stop now and I shut you down by sunset.”
Nat blinked as she looked at the massive bulb of the cork and then back into the Sheikh’s eyes. “And if I agree, you’re going to give me a week?” She paused and swallowed, her brown eyes narrowing as she slowly lifted her ass off her ankles to get back into position. “A week, and an open mind?”
Zameer laughed and shook his head. “I will give you your week. As for the open mind . . .” He glanced at her curves, his cock gently bouncing as the blood pumped into it. The Sheikh knew he was aroused
in a way he’d never been, that his judgment was almost certainly being affected by what this unusual woman was doing to him with her astonishing mix of boldness and sexuality, her unabashed negotiation with him as they played this game. “I cannot promise you an open mind,” he said finally. “But I will give you one week to open it.”
He blinked as he heard himself speak, and he knew he’d made a concession that was bordering on a lie. She would not open his mind. Not on this matter. This was a closed case, and it would remain closed no matter how hard this woman got him, no matter how hot she got him, no matter how she played this game.
But as he watched her slowly arch her back and raise her rump for him again, the Sheikh wondered if perhaps what he’d said was not a lie. Perhaps there was a way back from the wilderness, a way back from what he’d done a decade ago, a way forward for himself and his kingdom. A way that passed through this woman.
The Sheikh felt a sharp pain behind his left eye as he tried to block out the thoughts and memories, and for a moment he almost succeeded. A part of him whispered that he should turn around and walk away from this, walk away from this woman and all she represented. He had already told her in simple words that he was going to shut her down no matter what, had he not? But at the same time, he’d just conceded that although he could not promise an open mind, he would give her one week to open his mind. Which meant he’d given her his word, and a king’s word meant everything. More than that, a man’s word meant everything. It was a test of his character, was it not? Indeed, a man’s word was his character, yes?
“A man keeps his promises,” she’d told him earlier. “Keep your promise.”
But what if my promises conflict with each other, the Sheikh wondered as he stepped forward and massaged Nat’s upturned bottom until she spread for him again, showed him her secret hole still shining from the way he’d licked her, turned her head and looked into his eyes as if to remind him that he was in it now, that he had entered into the game, that he had to see it through to the end.
Uncorked for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 14) Page 6