by Marian Tee
Everything about Malik made her think of sex, really, and her fixation with it just kept growing and growing.
Like now.
Her eyes flew open, and she stared the ceiling in quiet desperation, doing her best but failing miserably in her attempt to ignore the way her body was throbbing with unquenched need. She twisted and turned on her bed, but somehow every movement only made her insides burn hotter.
Heaven on earth, but how she wanted him.
Malik.
The mere thought of his name had her whimpering, and then she felt it---
Wetness gushing out of her, drenching her panties in seconds---
Dear heaven.
How could she be so wet just by thinking about him? It was so impossibly embarrassing, and Kyria could only be grateful that the sheikh was probably still busy with his all-important call with the king.
This was so terribly insane---
And yet…
Her body trembled as Kyria’s hand started drifting down.
So, so insane---
Her breath hitched as her hand went down past her navel. Her eyes closed, and Malik materialized in her mind, so exquisitely vivid that she could practically feel the heat of his hard muscles---
Kyria’s fingers slipped under her shorts, and a moan escaped her.
A sister shouldn’t touch herself while thinking of her brother.
But Malik wasn’t her brother. And so her hand went inside her panties.
She didn’t care if people thought this was sick. And so her fingers found her flesh.
Because he was the man she loved.
Another moan broke out of Kyria as her fingers started stroking her own quivering folds. She had never done this before. Never. She had always thought of it, yearned for it. There had been nothing more that she was tempted to do, but she had always held back, not touching herself as a punishment---
Another moan spilled out of her as her thumb accidentally brushed against her clit, and the tiny nub of flesh stiffened.
Malik.
His name in her mind was as sinfully sweet as liquor-laced chocolate, but it also still felt horrendously wrong to think of Malik while touching herself. Wrong, she couldn’t help thinking, but even so it felt good, so, so good, like a stolen, erotic glimpse of heaven.
Kyria knew she should stop now, before it got worse, before it got too much, but instead she stroked herself again. Over and over, her fingers stroking faster, and she didn’t think it was possible to stop…until she realized she was being watched.
Fuck. Malik’s entire body jerked when he saw where her fingers were.
Fuck. He watched her fingers begin to move, and his cock hardened like it was his own erection she was stroking to an arousal.
Her lips parted, releasing the sexiest little moan, and lust gripped his entire body.
He should turn away, forget what he saw, do nothing.
But instead the sheikh moved inside, his gaze never leaving her fingers.
Kyria. His beautiful Kyria was touching herself, and it was the hottest fucking thing he had ever seen.
Her lips parted again---
Malik.
She was moaning his name as she touched herself, and all rational thought left him at that point.
He was going to fuck her.
A shaken gasp suddenly broke the silence in the room, her fingers freezing, and when he jerked his gaze back to her face, he saw that she was staring at him in horror.
Embarrassment swamped Kyria at the sight of the sheikh’s taut form by the doorway, but just as she started to yank her fingers out of her shorts, the sheikh’s harsh voice slashed the silence in the room.
“Don’t you fucking stop.”
Kyria’s heart banged against her chest even as her fingers froze, just halfway out of her shorts.
“Did you hear me?”
Her teeth sunk into her lower lip at the shocking command, but even so---
Her fingers slowly started to move again, and raw, sexual hunger flashed in his eyes.
Aaaaaaah.
She had no idea what was going to happen now, no idea what would happen after. All she knew was that she had to obey him.
He slowly began walking towards her, and with every step she began to pant.
By the time he reached her, she was breathless, and when he looked down at her, oh---
She could so imagine what he was seeing: the girl who was his sister by all but name and blood, the girl he probably never imagined was this much of a slut, touching herself because she was so damn horny.
A whimper rolled out of her throat, and the sheikh’s large, powerful body stiffened.
A moment later, and he was suddenly bending down, his hands taking hold of her hips. One hard yank, and he had her horizontal on the bed; another yank, and he had her knees up.
“This,” he said roughly, “is how it should be.”
Oh!
“And these have to go…” Kyria could only gasp as he unzipped her shorts and yanked them out of the way. “They ruin my view.”
The unabashed wickedness of his words was more than she could handle, and she whimpered his name in a mixture of uncontrollable arousal and embarrassment. “Malik!” But instead of feeling chastised the sheikh only let out a laugh, the sound arrogant and taunting, telling her that he knew her resistance was a sham.
Her fingers curled uselessly against the silken sheets as his shadow fell over her, the sheikh bending close to reach for her underwear. He pulled it down, but unlike with her shorts, his movements were much slower this time, excruciatingly so.
Sheer sexual agony ripped through her, and Kyria’s body writhed and twisted.
The panties were finally off, and she forced her dazed eyes to open, just in time to see the sheikh shove the scrap of lace into his pocket. The action made her whimper in shock, but his gaze met hers unflinchingly, possessively.
Definitely not the way a brother would look upon a sister.
She watched him pull a chair, turn it around to face her with one graceful twist of his fingers, and her body jerked when she realized what he meant to do.
“N-no---”
But he was already sitting down, his long strong legs stretching before him. His dark gaze captured hers, and she whimpered. “Now…” He began loosening his tie. “Let’s continue with the show, shall we?”
Aaaaaaaah.
She could think of a thousand reasons why this was wrong, why they shouldn’t do this, but God…that commanding, desire-roughened voice…and those words…
The sheikh yanked his tie off just as she reached for the triangle between her legs.
He threw his tie away, and her fingers began to move.
His eyes burned, and she started panting.
Oh, Servant of God…
Her pussy was wetter than it had ever been, and her folds were quivering so hard it was as if they were about to fall apart in ecstasy any moment.
“Have you ever fingered yourself, anisdi?”
That he would call her ‘milady’ while talking about such a thing made her choke and whimper at the same time, but they both knew the words only turned her on.
The sheikh leaned forward. “Have you?”
Kyria gave him a jerky shake of her head.
“Too bad.”
She moaned at his words, but he only smiled at her ruthlessly.
“Next time,” he rasped, “I might ask you to do it in front of me. But for now---” The sheikh stood up, and she tensed. “I think I prefer to do it for you.” He slowly pushed her legs to open wider, and her stomach twisted in anticipation. Wider and wider her legs opened until she was completely exposed, and the fact that he was still fully dressed while she was completely naked waist down only caused more wetness to flood her pussy.
He had her completely in his hands, and the fact made her feel so deliciously vulnerable.
“Keep these legs up,” the sheikh gritted out. “Do you understand?”
At her nod, Malik slo
wly and steadily pushed one finger inside of her, and Kyria found herself clutching the sheets. Deeper and deeper, his finger moved inside of her, and her grip on the sheets tightened.
“Look at me,” he rasped.
Her desire-clouded eyes sought his, and the sheikh started shoving his finger in and out of her. With every thrust, his finger moved harder, and her inner muscles started to tighten around him. Her heart was racing, she was starting to lose her breath, but she just didn’t care. She was losing herself in the heat of his touch, her hips now moving on its own volition, thrusting up to meet every deep plunge of his finger---
Malik ground his thumb down on her clit just as his finger plunged knuckle-deep inside of her.
“Aaaaaaah!”
Her body arched as her orgasm came out of nowhere, fingers digging deep into the mattress, and as her helpless gaze sought his, Kyria dazedly realized that every moment in her life since that morning---
Every precious, painful moment…was leading to this.
“I love you.” She just had to say the words. “I love you.” Her sweet, dark, innocent eyes sought his. “I love you, Malik.”
Her words set him on fire, and any hope of leaving her untouched burned into ashes.
“Kyria…”
She gasped and writhed at the way he said her name, his every intention for her laid out in those two syllables.
He was going to make her his tonight.
He was going to take her virginity as his.
He was going to fuck her until her body was limp and her mind was close to breaking---
And then he would do it all over again.
Her whole body shook as she raised herself on her toes, and his hands fell away from her face as she clutched his shoulders. Malik stiffened as she leaned forward, inch by aching inch, until her aching breasts were flat against his chest.
His hands were suddenly gripping her waist. “Do you know,” Malik growled, “how fucking hot you are right now?” His dark gaze swept over hers, and that alone was enough for her breasts to swell and grow heavier with a need that she knew only the sheikh could assuage.
Only him, and of course she now knew that it had always been him, and always would be.
Malik.
Her desire for him flared out of control, and she could feel herself swaying and trembling at the sheer overwhelming power of it. Oh, sweet heavens, but there was no denying it now. None at all. She wanted him, needed him, loved him, her brother and sheikh by choice---
Her passion-clouded eyes meeting his, she gave him the only words that could sum up everything she felt. “I’m yours to take, Malik.” And as he sucked in his breath, she brushed her mouth against his, whispering, “So what are you waiting for?”
The sheikh’s control snapped, and the way his hands swiftly moved over her body robbed Kyria of her ability to breathe.
He made short work of her blouse and bra by simply ripping them off. She should have been terrified, but heaven have mercy, it just made her ache for him more, the very crudeness of it only feeding her arousal. When he pulled back to look at her, she instinctively tried to cover herself, but the way his eyes blazed with warning made her arms fall back against the bed.
“Do you know how long I’ve imagined this?” Malik asked hoarsely. She shook her head, and his lips twisted. “Far too long, Ky. And longer than it should be. When I should have only been thinking of you as my little sister---” His hands started to move, and Kyria started to tense. “I was already imagining you naked---” His hands cupped her breasts, and her lips parted to release a long moan of pent-up desire. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought of it every time I had to jerk myself off in the shower.”
A thrill of immoral pleasure shot through her at his words, and her body arched. “M-Malik.”
His hands started massaging her breasts, and her body buckled. Malik. Malik. Malik. His hands shifted, his fingers going to her nipples, and her eyes flew open just in time to see his shadow fall over her.
His mouth captured hers in a feral kiss, the bold thrust of his tongue making her gasp. He sucked on her tongue while his fingers started to tweak the pouting tips of her nipples. It felt like she was being so beautifully assaulted in all fronts, and Kyria could only writhe and kiss him back at the excruciating pleasure of it.
When he wrenched his mouth off, Kyria moaned in protest, and she caught a glimpse of his dark smile just before his head bent down.
Aaaaah!
His tongue flicked against one nipple, and her body nearly came off the bed, Kyria already knowing what this would mean. “M-Malik----”
He covered her nipple with his mouth, his tongue laving around it, and she let out a sob as once again it began, Malik feasting on her breasts like hers were the only ones he would ever want to taste. His hand curved around her breast, squeezing it up so he could draw her nipple deeper into his mouth.
He started to suck, and her cry turned into an aching sob. He sucked at her nipple for so long and hard that by the time he moved on to her other breast, she had been reduced into a mindless, panting mess. All she could do was clutch his head and let him do his worst in making her even more delirious with need.
Wetness flooded her pussy when his fingers found her flesh, her body already throbbing in memory of how he had pleasured her earlier. But when he parted her folds open, it wasn’t his finger thrusting inside of her but his tongue.
Malik, her brother, was fucking her pussy with his tongue.
Whatever rational thought she had left crumbled at the thought, leaving a woman completely enslaved by passion.
When Malik felt Kyria’s fingers driving through his hair before clutching him in a painful grip, he knew then that she was close to a release and he lifted his head to suck on her stiff, throbbing clit. She screamed his name. Once. Twice. And on the third time, he sucked harder on her clit, and Kyria’s body curved up---
“Malik!” She sobbed his name out as her orgasm began pounding into her body. It was the most arousing sound, and his fingers shook in his haste to unbutton and unzip his pants.
Her body still shuddering at her continuing release, Kyria turned hazy dark eyes to his, watching him free his engorged cock. “Please…”
FUCK.
Having her beg for his cock in all her innocence was just too much, and with a hoarse groan he pushed her legs wide apart and drove his cock into her wet and quivering pussy. Her fingers dug into his back as his cock ripped her hymen apart, and he let out a harsh growl when he saw blood trickle down her legs.
FUCK.
He had never had a virgin before, and his mind nearly splintered apart at the agonizingly primeval sight of her virginal blood.
Kyria’s virginity was his.
His dark wild gaze sought hers, Malik desperately searching for a way to reclaim his sanity, but looking into her eyes only made it worse.
So goddamn worse---
She was looking at him like she belonged to him, looking at him like she wanted him to do whatever he wanted with her body---
“Kyria.” He pulled almost all the way out before plunging back into her in one hard thrust.
“Malik.” Her nails drove deeper into his back as his cock withdrew and sank back into her in another mind-numbingly hard thrust.
“I’m fucking you, my little sister, my shaqifa---”
The words unlocked something savage in both of them, and Malik started pounding into her, his every thrust ferocious and brutal, and Kyria let out a keening cry. It was exactly what she wanted, and she clung to him, her hips moving wildly to welcome his possession. Her lost gaze jerked to his, pleading and demanding---
Fuck me. Break me. Own me.
His cock rammed into her, and their bodies arched against each other, the sound of Malik’s growl blending with her moan as they came at the same time.
The room was mostly dark when she woke up, the only light coming from the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Kyria rolled to her back, her mind still a little slugg
ish even as vague memories start to take shape and meaning---
Her eyes flew open.
So that really happened.
For a long while she simply stayed there, naked under the covers but feeling too lazy and pleasured to make herself care. Even now, she could still remember the way Malik had fucked her – all five times of it, and every time he had only given Kyria her release when she could no longer stop herself from crying out her love for him.
I love you, Malik, she had sobbed out, and only then had he thrust into her one last time, shoving his cock all the way deep into her womb and grinding hard until she started to stream as she came.
I love you so much, she had whimpered while she rode him, and only then had the sheikh reached up to squeeze her breasts hard and pinch her nipples. The mix of pain and pleasure was just what she needed to fall beyond the edge, and her hips had moved fast and wild over his as she reached another orgasm.
After, he had taken Kyria with her back against the wall, and the fourth time he had taken her from behind with her ass up in the air. As for the last---
A blush stole over her cheeks.
The sheikh had seated himself in front of a full-length mirror, and after placing her legs over the armrests, he had made her look at their shared reflection while he parted her folds and impaled her from behind.
Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, he had ordered in a guttural voice when she had tried to turn her gaze away from their all-too-erotic position.
Look at us. And there had been something in his voice that made her heart ache, something in it that told Kyria that her beautiful sheikh wanted her to look because he didn’t want her to forget him---
It had made her turn her head, and as she did, she felt the sheikh suck in his breath. She knew he thought she was disobeying herhim but it hadn’t been that at all.
She was turning her head so she could kiss him, and as he stiffened at the touch of her lips, she whispered, You’re the only man I’ll want to look at, Malik. The only man I’ll love. Only you.
A sigh escaped Kyria at the memories, and as she slowly forced herself up, her body started to ache in all sorts of strange places. It made movement a little difficult, but she didn’t mind. She liked how her body ached. The pain made her feel his, the way she now knew she had always wanted to.