Sheikh's Desert Duty

by Maisey Yates

“If you didn’t expect to find me here, what did you expect to find?” He took a sip of whatever drink he had in his glass, and set it back down on the table.

  “Well, I hoped to find you, I just didn’t expect to be successful.”

  “I see.” He took another drink. “And why were you looking for me?”

  “Because we hadn’t seen each other. Because...because I thought we might do another interview.” She didn’t know that’s what she thought until she spoke the words out loud. But the moment she did, she knew it was true.

  “I think I’ve told you all I can.” He looked up at her, his eyes dark, glittering hollows in the firelight.

  “I haven’t.” Her heart was pounding hard, her throat dry.

  “Are you suggesting that I interview you?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

  He was silent for a long time, looking at her, his expression unreadable, shrouded in darkness. Then he finally spoke. “Have a seat.”

  She obeyed, moving deeper into the room and settling in the armchair across from him. She clasped her hands in her lap, and waited.

  “So I’m meant to ask you anything?” he asked, his eyes fixed on hers, unreadable.

  “It’s your interview.” The blood in her veins seemed to have slowed, breathing becoming difficult.

  “I have nowhere to sell the story.”

  “So, then I suppose it’s up to you to decide what is most interesting.”

  “Then I’ll start with what interests me most.” She braced herself. “Why were you a virgin?”

  Her stomach tightened, she might have known that this was the question he would ask. Well, she might have known that had she taken the time to think through where this might be going. The idea had come to her on the spur of the moment and she hadn’t really thought it through to the end game.

  “See, now I have to think about myself. And it’s much easier not to. At least, it’s much easier to just keep doing what you’ve always done and never ask yourself why. But now you’re asking me why, and I guess that means I have to know. The easy answer is that I never wanted to be like my mother. That I never wanted to be enslaved to the kind of passion she seemed to be held captive to. But now? Now I think there was something else.”

  “And what was that something else?”

  “You have to get naked to have sex.”

  He looked her over, his expression inscrutable, but his eyes filled with heat. “You have nothing to be concerned about on that score.”

  “I’m not just talking about physically. Making love with someone makes you vulnerable. Even without having done it, I knew it. That’s what I had seen in my mother that scared me so much. Vulnerability. And when you get stripped down to the point of revealing your vulnerabilities, you can’t hide anything. You can’t hide who you really are. And it’s funny, because I told you about the way I think about finding my dad. About how I’ve had fantasies about going to that party, and saying all of that stuff to him. And in those fantasies I’m an entirely different person. That’s my entire life. Working to become something other than what I was born into. To become the thing that I thought I deserved to be. But that had nothing to do with who I actually am. I’ve been afraid of exposing who I am, because I’ve always thought that person might be looked at and found wanting. Because if somebody doesn’t like your facade, then you can change it. But if someone doesn’t like you...that’s much more difficult. I think what I was avoiding was being naked in that sense.”

  A metallic flavor filled her mouth, something she recognized as panic. Because this was the most terrifying moment of her entire life. The most frightening thing she had ever admitted. That with him she was real, that she was desperately afraid of being found wanting. This was honesty, and it was easy for her to see why she had avoided honesty in the past.

  Zayn didn’t speak, instead he reached for his glass and took another drink.

  Silence filled the room expanding like a living thing, building upon the fear that was pressing on her chest.

  He set the glass back down on the table, the click on the hard surface nearly deafening.

  “And have you been naked with me?”

  It was the question she feared the most, and yet she knew she had no choice but to answer it honestly.

  “Yes.”

  “Have I seen you?”

  “Yes.” She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. “Have I seen you, Zayn?”

  He spread his hands. “I’m not certain what you mean by that. Of course you have seen me.”

  “I’ve seen the ruler. I have seen the sheikh. But have I seen the man?” She thought of him, trembling above her as he found his release, the intensity that had passed between them. She felt as though she had seen glimpses of the man, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds. But a shaft of light shining briefly through the darkness did not make for a clear day.

  “The sheikh is the man, the man is the sheikh, et cetera.”

  “If there were no kingdoms, if there were no kings, who would you be?” she asked, her voice rough as she echoed the words he had spoken to her when he’d held her in his arms.

  “It is a question that cannot be answered. For the fact remains that there are kingdoms. And I am the king of one of them. And I must do the right thing by my people.”

  “And why is this the right thing? Why is marrying a woman you don’t love the best thing for your people?”

  “The preparations are in full effect. I have given my word. Going back on that could be nothing but detrimental. Leila is... My sister is going through something. I can’t talk about it. It is not my secret. I failed one sister, Sophie. I failed to protect Jasmine. I will not fail on that level, not again. I have hurt too many people to ever risk it again.”

  She could sense the desperation in his tone, read the urgency that ran beneath his words. And she could hear things that were not spoken.

  “You are the strongest man I have ever met. You give more of yourself with every breath than I will ever be able to give in my entire life. I have spent years consumed with the idea of showing up some man who barely even cares that I exist. How is that even a life? What have I ever done for anyone?”

  “You are here because of a friend, Sophie. Don’t think I have forgotten that. I don’t have a scandal for you. Not the one you were looking for.”

  “It isn’t about that now. I’ll help Isabelle how I can. But I realize you don’t really know anything about the Chatsfields.” She had realized it for a while now, and she could barely bring herself to be angry about it. Because she had been doing something for a person she loved, and he’d been doing the same. But things were different now, now that she understood him.

  Now that he had seen her naked.

  “What is it about?” His voice was rough, frayed.

  “Right now it just feels like it’s about you and me. It feels like...it feels like something I’ve never experienced before. I feel like a person I’ve never been brave enough to be before.”

  “We needed to leave this in the desert.” He sounded tortured now, angry almost, but also desperate. And it was that desperation that she clung to. “We cannot do this here.”

  “Please, just for one more night. Please be the man. Because the man is not the king. I want to see the man.”

  “Sophie,” he said, his voice a growl now, “you don’t know what you’re asking. The man is better off dead and buried. He is nothing. He is selfish, destructive. He brought death upon his house. And he deserves to remain locked down so deep that he cannot breathe, much less move, much less resurface and destroy anything else.”

  “No, I don’t believe that’s true. Because I think the man is wonderful.”

  He rose, fire blazing in his eyes as he closed the distance between them. He reached d
own, wrapping his hand around her arm, tugging her up to her feet. “You are a fool.”

  Perhaps she was, perhaps she was seeing things that didn’t exist. Or perhaps she was the only one who saw the truth. Perhaps she simply needed to make him see.

  She rose up on her tiptoes, and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. The spark that burned between them quickly ignited, raging out of control the moment they made contact with each other. He tightened his hold on her, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her firmly against him, crushing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.

  She tilted her head, deepening their kiss, her heart pounding out of control. She wanted to do for him what he had done for her, wanted to strip away the layers, strip away the obligation, every outside influence that had managed to wrap itself around him and reveal who he really was beneath it all.

  No matter what he said, she knew that he was hiding himself. She knew she had to find him.

  Because he had found her. And how could she offer him anything less?

  She pulled at his shirt, desperate to have his skin against hers. Desperate to find that moment of clarity she had felt out in the desert. That moment of connection. So perfect, so unlike anything she had ever experienced before. He growled, and deepened the kiss, pushing her back against the wall, her back hitting hard against the stone surface. But she didn’t care. It didn’t hurt, on the contrary it felt wonderful. To have the intensity that burned inside of her matched in their movements on the outside.

  He pulled her shirt over her head, giving himself over to this completely. There was no restraint in him, not now, and it was absolutely perfect. Everything she wanted, everything she needed. She wanted to release the man that he wanted to keep contained. Wanted to set him free.

  And she damn well would.

  She put her hands on his belt, working the leather through the brass buckle, then moving to the closure of his pants. She pushed them down his lean hips, taking his underwear with them, not even remotely shocked at her boldness. She would have been, only days ago. But not now. She had left her fear behind.

  She had left her protection behind, too, and she was revealing herself. Now.

  She lowered herself slowly to her knees, wrapping her hand around his hardened length, squeezing him gently. His breath hissed through his teeth, his head falling back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. She could tell he was on the edge, could tell that she was close to accomplishing her goal. Because while she might be the one in the submissive position, he was the one who was at her mercy. On her knees before the king, she was about to bring him to his.

  She leaned in, flicking her tongue over the head of his erection. She had no preconceived ideas about this act, she had never given it much thought. Yes, the subject had come up in groups of friends at university. But she had often tuned them out. Because it simply hadn’t mattered to her, because she had other things on her mind. She would simply sit there, and nod, and giggle at the appropriate moment. All the while her mind would be somewhere else.

  Right now, it was certainly in the present. And right now, she knew exactly what she wanted.

  “Sophie,” he growled, his hand going to her hair, holding her fast. “Be very sure you know what you’re doing.”

  A sense of freedom flooded her, something intense blooming in her chest, spreading outward. A feeling of strength, a feeling of confidence. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even fantasized about doing it before. I’ll probably do it wrong. But I want to do this with you.” For the first time, she felt completely at ease admitting that she wasn’t an expert, she didn’t feel the need to stumble through, pretending that she was in her element. She didn’t need to be in her element, not when she was with him. She simply needed to be.

  “You couldn’t possibly do it wrong,” he said, his voice rough.

  She leaned in, sliding her tongue more confidently now over the head of him. Because he had said she couldn’t do it wrong, and now she felt confident in that. Felt free in that. She parted her lips, and took him in deeper, running her tongue along his length, tasting him fully. She squeezed the base of him with her hand, continuing to tease him with her mouth.

  He tightened his hold on her hair, tugging hard as she continued her sensual assault. She could feel the layers he’d wrapped himself in starting to fall away. Feel the grip he had on his control loosening, as his grip on her tightened.

  He pulled up hard, and she froze. “Stop it, now.” She had never heard him sound so close to the edge, and the thrill shot through her, canceling out any discomfort she felt from his hold on her hair.

  “Why?” She knew why, and that was the best part.

  “Unless you want it to end this way.”

  Her face got hot, arousal rushing through her. “That might be nice.”

  “Oh, no, I can make it so much better for you.”

  He took hold of both of her arms, and lifted her to her feet, before shifting positions, and sweeping her up into his arms. He held her tightly to his chest as he strode through the study, heading deeper into his quarters. She looped her arms around his neck, her eyes fixed on his. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking ahead.

  She leaned in and kissed his neck, pressing her lips right over the place where his pulse throbbed.

  He pushed open the door, and she looked away from him so that she could take in their new surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the size of the bed at the far end of the room. Being with him had been perfect, even in a pile of blankets, in a tent. This, this was a fantasy. A fantasy and a half. One she had never allowed herself, one that she almost ached over not having had before. Because it might have made the moment more poignant. Because it would have been the culmination of a dream, rather than the realization of all the dreams she’d never let herself have. Though this moment needed nothing to be more important. It was impossible for it to be more important. It was everything.

  Her heart swelled in her chest as he deposited her on the bed, curling his fingers into the waistband of her pants and taking them down, along with her panties. He positioned himself between her thighs, his dark eyes blazing into hers. “I will take the time to explore you, later.”

  They both knew there was every chance there would not be a later. But it didn’t matter. It made for a lovely fantasy, added to all the fantasies she’d never had before. She might as well have one now. In this moment, she might as well believe that anything was possible. In this moment, she might as well believe in the possibility of everything. She shoved aside all of her practicality, all of her cynicism, and simply embraced this moment.

  She nodded. “Later.”

  He kissed her deeply as he tested the entrance to her body with the blunt head of his arousal, sliding inside of her slowly. She clung to him as he did, as he closed the distance between them. He shifted, gathering her wrists in his hand, and pushing her hands above her head, holding them there, as he continued to kiss her. He flexed his hips, sending a spike of pleasure through her body.

  She lost herself in the motions, and the feeling of him inside of her. He broke their kiss, lowering his head and taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking it in deep. He lifted his head as he quickened his movements, as he started to lose himself in his own pleasure. She loved that she could recognize that, that she could feel the control burning away. It was what she wanted, it was what she craved.

  He released his hold on her wrists, adjusting his position so that he was holding her hands, his fingers laced through hers, holding them above her head as he continued to thrust deep inside of her. She watched him, watched as the lines of tension in his forehead deepened, before they finally relaxed, as he shook, gave himself up to his orgasm and released his hold on the world. As Surhaadi fell away, as his need to care for everyone but himself fell away.

&nb
sp; She watched his face as he became Zayn. Nothing more.

  And then she was caught up in the same storm, everything ripped from her as pleasure took over, as she joined with him at the summit, caught in a storm that consumed them both.

  She held him close after, listened to him breathe, felt his muscles tremble beneath her fingers.

  And with every bit of confidence she had, a confidence that was now placed in herself, in who she really was, and not just in her ability to fool people into thinking she was something they wanted to see, she knew what she wanted. She knew what she needed. She knew how she felt.

  “I love you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ZAYN STRUGGLED TO catch his breath, the weight of Sophie on his chest suddenly so great he couldn’t breathe.

  He pulled away from her, rolling out of the bed, cursing himself in every language he knew, cursing his own weakness. He had sworn not to touch her again, and now he had. And now this. A wave of shame washed over him, a sick feeling that slid through his stomach like tar, coating everything it touched.

  If it were only him. If he were all that mattered, he would break his engagement. He would keep her forever. But there was Surhaadi. And Christine. And Leila.

  And, most of all, Sophie. Who deserved something better. Something other than him.

  “Don’t do this, Sophie. Please.” He didn’t know why he was pleading with her, he should have done all this bargaining with himself, he should have done it before he ever touched her, before he ever touched her for the first time. But he had given in so easily, and then he had given in again.

  “Don’t do what?” She sat up, her green eyes rounded.

  “You know exactly what. Don’t bring feelings into this. There is no place for them.”

  “This is the only place for them. I told you, I’ve spent far too long hiding to start doing it again now.” She flung the covers away from her body, revealing her soft pale skin, skin he had just tasted, just touched. Skin he had no right to look upon, a representation of trust he had no right to.