Possession of the Sheikh: (Interracial BWWM Erotica) (The Men of Sharjah Series Book 2)
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Possession of the Sheikh
The Men of Sharjah, Book 2
Nadia Aidan
A Nadia Aidan Publication
www.nadiaaidan.com
Possession of the Sheikh: The Men of Sharjah, Book 2
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Possession of the Sheikh: The Men of Sharjah, Book 2 Copyright © 2015 Nadia Aidan
Cover Art by (Nadia Aidan) ©Copyright (August/2015)
After Dark, LLC Publishing
Electronic book publication August 2015
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, After Dark, LLC Publishing.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.
Possession of the Sheikh: The Men of Sharjah, Book 2
Nadia Aidan
Nadia After Dark-Taboo Collection
The Sheikhs of Sharjah….
Arrogant, wealthy, and dominant, the Sheikhs of Sharjah will stop at nothing to get what they desire, especially when it comes to claiming their women.
Possession of the Sheikh
In her entire life, Sabeen al-Mujaher has only ever loved one man—Sheikh Khalil al-Aziz—but when he cruelly breaks her heart and walks away, she builds a wall around her heart and vows to never let any man inside ever again.
In his entire life, Khalil a-Aziz has only ever loved one woman, but when he learns that Sabeen is betrothed to his cousin, he has no other choice but to end their secret affair and walk away from her forever. It kills him to lose her, and every day that he has to watch her with his cousin, knowing that she is the one woman in the world he can never have, it is like a slow death over and over again.
But when fate gives them another chance together, Khalil will stop at nothing to win Sabeen back, and with it her heart, love and trust—except that Sabeen has absolutely no desire to be won back. Yet when Khalil takes his cousin’s place, and Sabeen finds herself not only betrothed to the man she despises, but ultimately married to him, she knows it is only a matter of time before Khalil breaks through all of her defenses, forces her surrender and steals her heart—or rather he will try. Still wounded by the past, Sabeen is resolute—Khalil will have to be content with the surrender of her body, because she will never cede to him her heart.
Now a master dominant, Khalil is not the same immature youth Sabeen once loved. Where he’d once been content to dominate her sexually, that all changed after he lost her. Having spent so many years, tormented by the knowledge she would never be his, Khalil’s primal needs will only be satisfied with Sabeen’s complete submission.
In spite of Sabeen’s resistance, Khalil is undeterred, because he will not stop until he fully claims the woman he loves—and this time Khalil’s possession of Sabeen will be nothing less than absolute…
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Next in Nadia Aidan’s Men of Sharjah Series
About the Author
Chapter One
The Sheikhs of the al-Aziz family thought I was a spoiled, pampered princess, and to some extent, I was, although this image was one I had cultivated to the extreme. The truth was I went out of my way to be difficult, acting so obnoxious, so insufferable that the reigning Sheik, Amir al-Aziz, would have no choice but to call off our betrothal, and it had worked, or so I’d thought.
I should have known he would see right through my act. But even if it hadn’t been an act and I truly was the spoiled bitch everyone believed me to be, I’d learned the hard, painful, heartbreaking lesson—that when Sheikh Khalil al-Aziz was determined, nothing could ever serve as a deterrent—not even the bad attitude of a spoiled, pampered bitch of an heiress.
I loved my father, more than anything and anyone in this world. So I couldn’t tell him that I hated the idea of marrying Amir, and that I wanted to be free to choose the man I loved, one who loved me in return. To end my betrothal would have brought shame and disgrace upon my family. My sisters would be shunned, and it would break my father’s heart. Hurting my family was something I could never do. So when Amir made the decision to call off our engagement, I was elated. I’d done my duty and now I was free, until he’d shown up and delivered the crushing news. I was still betrothed, just not to Amir. The blow was far worse this time than it had been when my father had told me the truth of my fate when I was eighteen. And not because I’d thought I was free of the shackles of my family’s noble status, and Sharjah’s antiquated traditions, but because I was now betrothed to Khalil.
He knew how much I loathed him, that I could never marry him. Fifteen years had passed and I still wasn’t over it. Fifteen years, and I still wasn’t over him.
When he’d called to arrange a meeting through my assistant, I’d only agreed because I was certain he was going to tell me what I already expected. Amir was going to end our betrothal so that he could marry the woman he’d recently fallen in love with, an archaeologist from the U.S. Well good for them, I was truly happy for them, as well as for myself. After years of dreading the day we would finally have to honor the contract our parents had made, I was elated that I was finally free—but that elation was very short lived.
Ever punctual, Khalil arrived at my office exactly at eight, so I had my assistant, Laila, escort him to our conference room, where I joined him a few minutes later. I was a successful patent attorney. Educated in the States, I worked with scientists not just in the Gulf but all over the world to patent medical innovations. So when I entered the room, I wasn’t surprised to find him staring at the wall where dozens of awards and achievements I’d accumulated over the past several years were now displayed.
As I observed his expression I could tell he was surprised and maybe even just a little impressed. Yes, the spoiled, selfish, seemingly shallow Sabeen al-Mujaher and her little firm, which I’d built from nothing, all on my own, without my father’s help or money, was a success. It was all I could do to keep the smug grin off my face.
Fifteen years ago he’d accused me of being a spoiled, airhead heiress and probably rightfully so. I’d
been eighteen, had yet to leave for college, so admittedly my world view had been pretty small, but that didn’t mean I’d deserved what he’d later done to me, or the lesson he’d so cruelly taught me. That didn’t mean I would amount to nothing, as he’d accused, or that I would turn out to be a vapid socialite wife as he’d believed. But even if it seemed as if that was the path I was set upon, that didn’t mean I’d deserved to be treated as if I was nothing, as if I didn’t matter.
He turned and faced me then, and the familiar resentment gnawed inside my belly, along with another feeling, that was equally familiar—longing.
I hated myself that I still wanted him, that my body still trembled whenever his darkly, lashed eyes settled upon me, although it had been a long while since his gaze had done anything more than stare right through me.
Today, however, they smoldered with the same intensity that had once been the hallmark of his expression whenever he’d looked at me. With an arrogance that was staggering, he slid his gaze the length of my body, boldly staring, first at my breasts and then at the juncture of my thighs, as if my body belonged to him, as if I belonged to him.
My jaw tightened while I struggled to make sense of the war of emotions coursing through me. Anger, indignation, and desire so strong, even I could not deny the wetness staining my panties.
Before I lost all sense, I schooled my features into a mask of indifference, and projected a confident demeanor which I didn’t quite feel. I needed to get this meeting over and done with so that I could get him the hell out of there.
“Let’s dispense with the niceties, shall we? I’m a busy woman, I have a pile of work on my desk, and let’s face it, you’re not exactly my favorite person, and we both know it.” Folding my arms across my chest, I trained my glare on him. “So just get right to it, and tell me what the hell are you doing here, and what the hell do you want?”
My words must have triggered something inside of him because his nostrils flared angrily. Within a blink of an eye, he was across the room. With his chest pressed to mine, he pushed me back against the wall.
“I’m here for what I’ve always wanted, Sabeen.” His gaze held mine. “You.”
His movements had been so quick that I gasped, my palms flattening against his muscled torso.
“What are you doing?” His last words had momentarily robbed me of thought, just as his sudden nearness fired up my pulse. I could barely take in a normal breath, especially with his hands now stroking my stocking clad thighs, and skimming across the delicate material as if on a mission.
I began to panic when his hands crept higher until they were caressing my bare flesh.
“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for a very long time,” he replied. “And it’s what I should have done a long time ago, but because of family honor and duty, I couldn’t, but even then, I still should have.”
Before I could fully discern the meaning of his statement, his lips captured mine, sending us both hurdling head first into the past. All of the old bitterness was still there, but as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, the remembered longing, the dark passion he’d awakened me to, returned with such a blinding force, I was powerless against the onslaught to my senses.
Later, I would be furious with myself, for how easy I’d capitulated, but then it had always been this way for me, so I should not have been surprised. Whenever Khalil touched me, my body went up in flames, as if it recognized its master, and was eager to do his bidding.
I voiced a half-hearted protest, which was muffled against his mouth. We both knew my attempts at resisting were feeble, and when he deepened the kiss, I was forced to give up all pretense that I didn’t want this, that I didn’t want him.
With a soft sigh of surrender, I melted into him, my hands raking through his hair, as I clutched the back of his head. The wet glide of his tongue against mine forced a moan from my lips which he swallowed as he practically sucked the breath from my lungs. Every inch of me tingled with needy pleasure, and my nipples pebbled hard and tight until they were so sensitive that I knew the slightest touch would send a tiny quake through my body. Just the forceful pressure of his muscled chest against mine had me writhing against him.
In what I guessed was an effort to still my wild motions, he lifted me just high enough so that my legs could wrap around his waist and he could trap me firmly between his unyielding frame, and the immovable wall.
With my legs spread wide I could smell the distinct scent of my drenched pussy, so I knew he could too; just as I could feel the hard, thick bulge of his cock against my cunt, revealing his aroused state. His hips undulated in a sensual, erotic rhythm, forcing his cock against my clit with each stroke. It had been so long since I’d allowed a man to assuage my sexual needs—and even longer still since I’d experienced the wanton pleasure that only Khalil’s lovemaking could give me.
It was all just too much. I’d arrived at work that morning, and with the exception of his anticipated visit, it had promised to be just another ordinary day. We had spent the past several years avoiding one another, and on the rare occasions when we were forced to be in each other’s company, we carefully guarded ourselves against the passion that still simmered just beneath the surface.
Not since that night many years ago, had we ever once allowed ourselves to be alone again, so I was ill-prepared for the forceful onslaught of my own desires that bubbled inside of me, and I guessed he was equally shaken, when he groaned against my lips, “Damn, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
The raw need in his voice, struck a chord within me because I knew exactly what he meant, and how he felt. Just minutes in his arms, and I was already teetering on that precipice. Wrenching my mouth from his, I gasped for air, intent upon simply drawing in a single breath, and that’s when the years of pent up longing and frustration crashed down upon me.
He felt it too. Rocking harder and faster against me, I clenched my eyes shut, my face buried against the crook of his neck. My body crested higher and higher, as my pussy throbbed and pulsed; but it was his darkly provocative words, whispered hotly against my ear that finally set off the explosion inside me.
“That’s my pussy. Mine. Come for me, now.”
All at once I screamed, shuddered and clawed at his back as I erupted. My juices gushed from my body, drenching my panties completely as my orgasm ripped through me, shattering me into what felt like a million pieces. He continued to rock against me, riding my pussy through the storm of my climax, and then through the aftershocks until I finally quieted.
By the time my breathing returned to normal, and my body relaxed, I remained so shaken that I didn’t even realize I still clung to him until he pried my arms and legs from around him and took a slight step back.
With a wicked grin, he glanced down at the front of his pants, drawing my attention to the wet stain my cum had left there, before returning his gaze to me.
“Better?”
His question was simple enough, it could have been innocent enough as well, but all I saw was that same cocky, dimpled grin that had taunted me for fifteen years for being so naïve and stupid to think that a man like Khalil could ever see me as more than just some convenient bimbo to stick his dick in.
Within the span of seconds, the euphoria I’d felt only moments before vanished, and in its wake all I felt was empty as the memories formed a bitter knot in my chest. I stared back at Khalil, with his imperious brow and that conceited self-satisfied grin. And that’s when I lost it.
It took me about a full three seconds to realize what I’d done, and that’s when I felt the stinging in my palm and saw the reddened whelp of my handprint splayed across his cheek.
“You’re disgusting,” I fumed as I pushed away from him. Straightening my clothes, I gathered myself before I met his gaze, and it was that same smug, arrogant gleam in his eyes that had me balling my fists once again.
“I don’t think so, Sabeen,” he warned. “Hit me again, and I will put you over my knee and spank that sweet ass
of yours. I’m pretty sure you don’t want your secretary to see you bare assed and draped over my lap, cause we both know you’re a screamer, a loud one at that—”
“Fuck you.”
His eyes twinkled as if I’d just whispered a bunch of sweet nothings in his ear. “You already have, my dear, lovely, Sabeen. Many times, I recall.” Flames of desire leapt in his eyes then. “And very soon you will again.”
I would have kicked him out then, but it was the surety with which he’d spoken, that stiffened my spine. “What the hell are you talking about?”
As if he had all the time in the world, he pulled an envelope from his suit jacket and handed it to me. Immediately, I recognized the twin seals of the Al-Aziz and Al-Mujaher families, the two most powerful families of Sharjah, and that’s when my stomach bottomed out. I already knew what the envelope contained, because I’d seen a similar one once before, but as I opened it and read the contents, I experienced a confluence of raw emotions that were far sharper than the last time I’d been confronted with a document foretelling my fate.
When I was done, I glared at Khalil. “You and Amir cannot make such a decision without my father’s approval.”
“You’re right, and we haven’t. This is the proposal Amir intends to present to your father, but we know Abdul will reject it if he thinks you are not in agreement.”
I shoved the contents of the envelope into his chest with an inelegant snort. “Of course I’m not in agreement, but it’s not like it mattered before. My father and Amir’s seemed to think my feelings did not matter then, and from what I can tell none of you think they matter now.”
Khalil ignored the documents I still held against his chest, until I had no choice but to set them down on the boardroom table. I was furious. Amir could marry the woman of his choosing, although I realized he would suffer the consequences in doing so, but eventually he would go about his merry little way. Not so for me.