Surrender to the Sheikh

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Surrender to the Sheikh Page 12

by Diana Fraser


  Xander jumped off his horse and looked around. “Strange, I remember the Shuruq Alshams oasis as being smaller.”

  Elaheh smiled, suddenly uneasy. She shouldn’t have tricked him, but this oasis was so beautiful that surely he’d forgive her once he understood where they really were.

  He was frowning as he looked around. He started to walk toward the Roman ruins, hidden by the lush trees, which would betray the identity of the oasis. Elaheh’s heart beat quickly in panic as she realized that her stay would be cut short unless she did something quickly. She shot out her hand and grabbed his. It seemed she’d have to begin where she’d intended to end.

  “Let me show you where we’ll be staying.”

  For a moment she didn’t know if he’d agree, but then he glanced at her and his expression softened—changed from suspicion to warmth.

  “It seems I can’t deny you anything,” he said with a smile.

  “And that’s,”—she grinned back—“as it should be.”

  Elaheh led him through the towering palms which hid the waters of the oasis and climbed up a narrow path to a tent which had been erected in the prime location, overlooking the verdant oasis, complete with Roman ruins of the ancient spa, now hidden by the tent.

  She ran ahead and opened the rear curtain of the tent. She gave an exaggerated bow. “My sheikh,” she said with bowed head.

  Xander walked through to the tent and she followed, watching as he absorbed all the fittings she’d instructed—principally the bed. Everything else was minimal, but the bed was fitted with luxuriant silk in all the rich colors Elaheh secretly loved—aubergine, copper, purples, reds—it looked like a jewel set in the bleached tones of the desert. She followed him inside and let the curtain fall. She was relieved to see the front entrance was still covered. Their location remained a secret. She’d deal with that later. After she’d got what she wanted.

  He turned to her. “Looks like a scene for a seduction,” he said, a slight frown playing on his brow. For a moment she doubted her abilities to seduce. “But who’s seducing who?” he murmured. He approached her and thrust his fingers through her hair, his thumb stroking her cheek. Her doubts immediately evaporated. “Looks like my pupil has overcome her fears.”

  She nodded, liking the way his fingers moved against her scalp. “I have, thanks to you.” She kissed the palm of his hand. “You showed me what true pleasure was like.” She held his dark gaze. “And I want more.”

  He smiled, that rare smile. “Then, Ela, I will give you more.”

  “Good, because I want… a lot more.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Anything in particular?”

  She licked her lips, suddenly nervous at what she was about to ask.

  “Go on,” he said gently. “Anything you want is okay by me.”

  “I want sex. Full sex.” She paused but he didn’t reply. “I want you inside me,” she said for clarification in case he hadn’t understood. But the darkening in his eyes didn’t lighten.

  “No.”

  “No?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

  “That’s right, the answer is no. You need to save that for your husband.”

  She ground her teeth in frustration. “I didn’t realize you were so old-fashioned.”

  “I am when it comes to you.” He sighed, and caressed her shoulder. “Look, I want to help you. You suffered an experience no woman—certainly no girl—should endure.”

  His words stung. “You only doing what you’re doing to help me? Not because you want to?”

  He gave a low laugh. “I didn’t have you down for insecure.”

  “I’m not, but even so…” She looked away and was pleased when he caught her chin and tilted her to face him once more.

  “Even so, you’re a woman who wishes to be desired. And, believe me, you are. I did want to help you. I wanted to show you that not all men are alike, not all men want to hurt, some want to give, some want to pleasure. But somewhere in the middle of doing that, my feelings have changed.” He paused as if he were struggling to find the right words. She decided to take pity on him.

  “And if I were a woman who no longer needed help?”

  He smiled. “I’d still desire you.” The smile dropped. “I’d still want to pleasure you, to see your eyes close as you surrender to your passion.”

  “Um, I like the sound of that.” She lifted herself onto tiptoe and kissed him. By the time she lowered herself once more, his gaze had heated up, and she decided it was worth another try. This time she decided a more physical approach might work.

  She smoothed her hand down his chest and lower, until it brushed the front of his trousers. His eyes narrowed. “Ela,” he said in a warning tone.

  She opened her eyes wide. “What?”

  “We are not having full sex, no matter what you might think.”

  She crossed her arms. “Really! All I want is sex with you. I didn’t realize it would be quite so hard to get. I understood that men were happy to poke it”—she glared down at his obvious erection—“anywhere.”

  “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I can assure you I’m choosy where I—to use your charming expression—poke it.”

  She felt hurt, and blinked as the strange sensation filled her. “I’m really not attractive enough for you, am I?” Her voice sounded strangely weak and hoarse. She tried to clear her throat but there was a big lump which wouldn’t budge. She tried to pull up the scarf which had slipped from her hair on the ride, but he stopped her, and dragged it away further from her hair and face. He cupped her cheeks with both his hands and looked into her eyes.

  “You’re wrong, Ela. I find you very attractive.”

  She gulped. “Even when I’m haranguing you?”

  He gave a light shrug. “You infuriate me then, but I still can’t help my body responding, as it is now. No, I find you very attractive. Come closer and I’ll show you just how much.”

  She couldn’t have denied him, or herself, if she’d wanted to, and she most certainly didn’t want to. So she stepped forward into his arms and he caressed her back and then lower, before carefully taking off her abaya. Then he carried her over to the bed and laid her down. He lifted the light dress she wore beneath her abaya and stroked up her leg, caressing her thigh. She shivered and closed her eyes. The effect of his caress was surprising, more than surprising. It was as if he’d flicked a switch which had ignited other switches, sweeping over and inside her body, turning them on, one at a time. She still didn’t open her eyes because she was afraid to see what this turning on had done to her body. Every part of her felt hyper aware, as if tuned in to a higher frequency.

  Then his other hand swept up her other leg. His thumbs curved around her thighs and touched the most intimate part of her. This time she did open her eyes and she was met with the darkened, aroused eyes of Xander. The more he touched her, the more she wanted him completely—inside her. Wantonly, she opened her legs wide and lifted her dress. He needed no further invitation and pulled down her panties. When he touched her she gasped, as he toyed with her moist skin.

  “You see,” she gasped again, “I’m ready for you to be inside me.”

  “You might be ready, but I’m not entering you.”

  “Please,” she asked, unable to deny the throbbing deep inside of her.

  “Um, I like the way you say ‘please’. Maybe…”

  “Yes?” she asked hopefully.

  “Maybe there is a way.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll give you what you desire only if you surrender your will to me. Only then will I oblige.”

  He’d gone too far! “I won’t surrender my will to anyone!”

  He withdrew his thumbs which has been caressing her in a most exciting kind of way. She clamped her hands on his to stop him from moving.

  “Then you won’t get what you want,” he replied, his lips twisted into a sexy smile, as if he knew she’d refuse, as if he’d wanted her to refuse. “And you’ll have to b
e content with a little appetizer.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “But—”

  “Ela, be quiet.”

  She didn’t say another word because there wasn’t anything else she wanted to say as his hands resumed their exploration of her. He no longer lingered around her sex but, instead, his hands swept over her hips, and onto her flat stomach. Then he lowered his head and kissed her bellybutton. She squirmed with pleasure.

  “Why did that feel so good?” she asked, suddenly aware that her breathing had quickened.

  “Be quiet, Ela,” he commanded in an easygoing kind of way, his breath hot against her bare skin. And, apart from the gasp, as his tongue tracked downward, she was.

  She wondered what he was going to do and the anticipation had her on edge. She gasped as his tongue found the source of her need and lapped her as if she were the most exquisite drink and he was dying of thirst in the desert.

  She gripped the bed clothes in both fists and arched back, her hips coming into closer contact with his face. In response to her intense reaction he suckled her and instantly she was flooded inside with an intense combination of heat and warmth and intense pleasure, the like of which she’d never experienced.

  “Oh, Xander!” she gasped. “That’s wonderful.”

  He lifted his head to look at her. “Ela,” he growled. “Will you stop talking!”

  She clamped her mouth shut, not wanting to argue in case he stopped doing these things to her. He resumed his ministrations and she soon forgot about talking as the coiling sensations intensified again and all her thoughts and feelings were centered on the rush of pleasure which soared through her body. And then his finger circled where she wanted him, teasing her, and she opened her legs more fully. He slid his finger inside of her and she cried out as she became swamped by powerful sensations which surged through her repeatedly in waves, making her gasp and focus on the pleasure which his tongue and fingers brought.

  Her fingers tingled and inside… well, inside it blew away not just her breath but her mind, and in that instant she knew a freedom she’d never known before. And she knew that she’d always be working towards possessing that freedom again.

  As the echoes of her orgasm rolled away, she lay back on the bed blinking, as if she’d emerged into a whole new world. And her first view of this whole new world was filled by Xander’s face.

  “You should have sex with me now,” she said, unable to stop herself.

  His expression of male satisfaction faded. “It’s usually called making love. At least it is when two people are in this situation.” He swept his hands along her legs and sat back.

  “You should make love to me now.” She was prepared, after all, to compromise up to a point. She dropped her eyes to his trousers. “It’s clear you want to.”

  “It is,” he said standing up. “And it should also be clear to you by now that I don’t intend to.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t been obeyed. She rose and walked over to him, and slid her hands onto his straining erection. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath between closed lips. Then he opened his eyes and glared at her. “Ela! You are not getting your way over this.” He removed her hands. “Unless, that is, you wish to surrender your will to me, here and now, and do everything exactly as I say? Hm?”

  For a moment she had the impulse to go to him and be that subdued woman he wanted, to place her hands on his shoulders and shift them down his arms and lay her cheek against his broad chest. There was relief in that thought of surrender to someone who was strong to take her cares away. Then the image of her mother flashed into her mind—someone biddable who’d been outbid by other women. If you were weak, you lost, she reminded herself. She shook her head.

  He smiled again. He’d won and he knew it. It was clear, now, that he didn’t want her to surrender her will to him. “Then I suggest we eat the feast which I can smell has been provided for us.”

  “And then to bed?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  As she walked around the tent picking up her clothes from where they’d fallen and putting them back on again, she realized she felt different. She was more aware of her body, she thought abstractly. Before it had been something which housed her will and her brain. Now… she couldn’t quite describe it, which annoyed her. She liked to be able to analyze things and people. It wasn’t until later, when she lay in bed after being thoroughly pleasured that she realized her body had awakened a will which was every bit as demanding as her mind. The battle had begun—not only between her and Xander—but between her mind and her body.

  * * *

  In the end Xander had decided eating was over-rated. It seemed Ela was determined to divert him. There was no way he was going back on his word, but when she wanted to pleasure him, as he’d pleasured her, he decided a little compromise was in order.

  Sometimes, he considered—as Ela stroked and caressed him with her fingertips, her whole hand, and then, surprisingly, her mouth—a proactive, dominant woman could be exactly what a man required.

  It was only later, after Ela had satisfied and pleasured him as thoroughly as he had her, and she lay curled in his arms, fast asleep, as if drugged from giving and receiving pleasure, that he realized something had changed inside of him.

  He felt different. He closed his eyes as he considered what it was that had changed. He could smell her sweet fragrance, could feel her delicate skin and bones under his fingertips, and could feel the beating of both her heart and his, as if they were merged, as if they were one thing.

  He froze. One thing. She’d broken him down, that was what she’d done. But he didn’t want to feel anything, did he? Because that way opened him up to the opposite of pleasure—exposed him to pain. Something he knew only too well.

  Gently he disengaged from Ela’s body, sat on the edge of the bed—its colorful silks and satins now disheveled and half-discarded on the woven rugs which lined the floor of the tent. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. What had he done? His heart thudded as he pressed his hands against his temples. The blood pumped around his body, mocking his belief that he’d managed to extinguish life at the very heart of him. He’d thought his emotions were so repressed, he’d made them extinct. It seemed he was wrong.

  He stood up and strode to the front of the tent and gripped the curtains which barely moved in the stillness of the morning. He needed to break this feeling, shut it down before it destroyed him. He needed air and light.

  With one swift movement he push aside the curtains and stepped out, expecting to see nothing but the emptiness of the desert to soothe his soul. Instead, he was confronted with the ruins of the Roman spa and the beauty of the oasis which was engraved on his mind. It had once been a favorite escape for the royal family and their closest friends. And so it had been on that night when his parents and beloved friend were killed before him and Roshan. The night his life had ended. The night his new life, without emotion, had begun.

  Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “What is it?” Ela asked. “What’s wrong.”

  He didn’t turn to her but continued to look, unseeing, at the beauty and the pain that lay before him. It was as if the shroud which had enveloped his fear and sadness had suddenly dissolved, leaving nothing but the pulsating beat of a bleeding heart—a bleeding heart through which he felt two things.

  One the sadness had not lessened over time, but, if anything, had become more painful. And two, his need for this woman—this infuriating, opinionated, arrogant woman—had become more acute. And both were now inextricably linked together. It seemed he couldn’t have the one without acknowledging the other. And he knew the reason why. Because they both probed and prodded that poor thing he’d used to call his heart.

  He had a choice. He could ignore both, or embrace both. And, at that moment he had no idea what to do.

  Then he felt her hand touch his. He closed his eyes in
response, as if trying not to allow anyone to see into his eyes where the feelings might be seen. He bit his lip and kept his eyes closed and didn’t respond to her hand. But it curled around his anyway. If she’d done anything else—spoken again, put her arms around him, demanded a hungry kiss—he thought he could have refused. He’d have been able to meet her energy with a heavy dose of his own. But she didn’t.

  “Xander.” She spoke his name in a whisper, like the wind through the trees. He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, as he felt the pull of her voice through his body. He couldn’t let her affect him. He couldn’t. That way led madness. “Xander.” The word came again, slightly stronger, but with doubt this time. It was the doubt that did it. He fluttered open his eyes and turned to look at her.

  She looked different—stripped bare, literally, but not just her body, whose petite curves were heightened by the shadows shimmering through the palm trees. But in her eyes, too. As if their lovemaking had stripped her of her coverings, leaving the real Ela naked and bare before him. He frowned, and brushed her hair from her face.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  She gave a small smile. She looked so young. He smiled back and kissed her gently on the lips. Not in the hot, sensuous way they had been kissing but with tenderness. He suddenly realized that everything had changed with that one act. He frowned.

  She frowned back. “Is something the matter?”

  He had to talk. He had to be honest with her, he knew that much. “It would have been all right if we hadn’t come here.” He gestured outside the door to the beautiful oasis full of memories.

  “I’m sorry, I was selfish, I wanted to come so much. It’s so beautiful. I… didn’t think you’d mind once you’d seen it.”

  He grimaced, but his hand didn’t leave her face, his fingers pushed through her hair, holding her steady as his thumb swept her cheek. “It’s not that.” He glanced outside, seeing its beauty but not appreciating it. How could he, when all he could see was the dark spreading stains of the blood shed by his parents and beloved on the white sand?

 

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