by Unknown
Ashim’s hand cupped her sex as she took him to her throat and she felt the pressure his thumb exerted on her vaginal wall as his fingers both worked and held her hot to his palm.
Emily took him deep and deeper again and when he started to thrust she let his length run to the tip of her tongue and tasted salty drizzle but instead of completing him she removed her lips and blew. The arm over his came down and pressed into her head but she resisted and just blew so that his hips thrust to the ache of her breath.
Had he come then, so too would have she, in fact a little she did. Ashim felt her small come to his hand and he talked himself down from blowing on her face, which she now wanted.
But he wanted more of her now.
He pulled her up and turned so they lay side on, facing each other, scissoring their legs, and Emily took him in her hand and stroked him.
Ashim’s finger worked her clitoris, the head of his cock did, too, and he would watch her come, Ashim decided, and then he would reach for a condom.
“Ash—” His name was caught in her tense throat as he worked her more rapidly and she ached to guide his thick cock in.
“Come over me,” she begged.
“Let me feel you come,” he said and removing his fingers, and replacing them with what both wanted, he slipped in just a little way.
His cock was thick and she looked down to where, wet and pink, she swallowed him in. And then she could look no more because her back arched and so too her neck. Ashim’s hand went behind her head and forced her to face him. Her whole body was taut, in spasm, her come so deep and so tight around him that Ashim didn’t even bother to fight his nor to pull out—instead he drove in to the sound of her scream and thrust hard into her to, delivering his come hot and deep as she sobbed out her confession.
“I don’t know what to do.”
He was everywhere, deep inside her body as well as her mind and he tipped her into confession for, despite brave words, Emily did not want them to end.
They kissed, a deep breathless kiss, as they came back to the world and her words could not be unsaid.
“Ashim, I need to get back to Cannes. Princess Alice…” she stopped and he did not push her to go on.
“I know that you have to get to work.” Ashim understood her confusion. He didn’t want her to blow up her life for a week in his bed.
“But….” Emily didn’t know the solution.
“I’ll think of something.”
His phone rang but he ignored it, Ashim did not want others to invade just yet. They lay for a while, both quiet, both trying to sort too many feelings for such a short space of time out.
“I need something to eat.” Emily went to get out of bed, she was almost dizzy from the clashing of thoughts in her head and maybe food would help, maybe a little space from Ashim might help clear it.
“I’ll have them bring it down.”
“No,” Emily shook her head. “I’ll make it.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to think.”
Emily got out of his bed and looked at her russet dress but it was damp and sticky from champagne. She picked up her bag from the floor and put it on the bed to take out her lilac dress.
“Just put on one of my shirts,” Ashim said.
He needed to think, too.
He watched as she pulled on scarlet panties and then sat on the bed to put on her espadrilles. When she stood he caught her wrist and pulled her closer so she stood over where he lay.
God, he could eat her for breakfast, Ashim thought.
Her hair was blonder from their day at the beach, her skin had turned a light honey, and there was a smattering of new freckles on her thigh. Then he looked up and saw the confusion in her eyes and he let her go.
As she headed up to the deck, he rang and told the staff to give her free rein and then sat up in the bed and crossed his legs and rested his hands in his head.
Time was running out.
He could fly home in a week or so, Ashim thought and get there at the arranged time.
But he would fly home with her.
His father would have a fit, Ashim knew that but that wasn’t all that was concerning him.
How did he tell Emily that he was a Crown Prince and all that that entailed? He guessed that the news that seduced most women would, instead, trouble Emily.
Hell, she wanted her career, but she’d have to kiss goodbye to that. He recalled their conversation on the beach and remembered that the woman he badly wanted didn’t even want babies.
Blocked at every turn, his phone was buzzing again and, in frustration, Ashim kicked one long leg out and her new bag toppled.
Ashim didn’t reach to save it, nor did he reach to pick it up, he just smiled a as the contents spilled out and the little clutch bag she had carried on the night they met burst open. Out came shredded silver knickers that she must have hidden in there.
And then he wasn’t smiling.
Any chance of a future for them died then, for there, glinting in a shaft of morning sun that came through the window was a sapphire surrounded by small diamonds and beside it, on the thick carpet, a wedding band.
Ashim moved and sat on the edge of the bed and picked them up and read the inscription inside the wedding band.
Love Always.
He felt sick.
For a moment he tried to rationalize, his past was depraved enough that Emily wasn’t the first marred woman he had been with.
Not by a long shot.
It was that she was married.
He’d known she was hiding something and it hadn’t bothered him at first.
He went over their conversations, her evasiveness, how the best part of her job was the relief of taking off.
And, once home, she dreamt of the next flight.
Ashim knew then she had sought only temporary escape.
Chapter Eleven
It was a delicious morning.
Emily stood on deck for a moment and dragged in the morning air.
Seagulls were calling from above and the wind blew her hair into her eyes and she just stood and took deep breaths and hugged her arms around her chest and made a decision.
She was going to Switzerland.
When they got back to Cannes she would go and shop and prepare lunch for Princess Alice and then she would fly but after that?
They would talk over breakfast and yes, if he suggested she fly back from Switzerland, then she would do so.
There was nothing to worry about Emily told herself and then made her way to the galley.
There was no need for the rapid thump-thump of her heart.
The staff seemed a bit surprised but the chef showed her around the kitchen and then she was left alone.
Cooking had always been relaxing for Emily and as she looked through the fridge and cupboards and saw they had everything she could want and more. She could make something really lavish but Emily decided that she would make him her favorite—some pancakes, a light fruit syrup topped with berries and vanilla cream, and a shake of chopped pistachios.
She was reducing the syrup when the engines came on and she guessed they were heading back to Cannes.
As she whipped the cream she thought of preparing Princess Alice’s lunch here, which would give her and Ashim a couple more hours to talk.
She made hot, strong coffee and squeezed some juice and then made the pancakes and it all came together.
Yes cooking relaxed her—Emily’s heart had slowed down and she felt calmer. The tray looked beautiful and as she carried it up she felt so much better.
On deck she was greeted with the delicious sight of Ashim’s back. He was wearing black lounge pants that sat low on his hips and he was looking out to the ocean.
She remembered yesterday, oiling him on the beach and smiled that she might get to do that again.
On his yacht this time!
There was absolutely no warning as to what was to come.
“Put it down at the table,” Ash
im said, barely turning his head to speak.
“I thought we might—” She was about to suggest that they eat in bed but then remembered that they needed to talk and so she put the tray down where he’d said.
“Do you want…” she picked up the juice as he came over but she didn’t start to pour, it was only then she sensed the change in him. He looked through her, rather than at her, and his mouth was set in a grim line but then he came right up to her and spoke.
“I don’t want anything to eat.” His voice was brusque. “Help yourself, though, while my staff packs up your things.”
“Sorry?” Emily couldn’t quite catch up. Gone was the man she had left lying in bed and an angry, tense stranger stood in his place.
“You have to leave for your flight.”
“Yes, but…” She hesitated. “I thought were going to talk.” Even as she said that Emily regretted it—she sounded needy, or rather, reasonable when there was no reason to be made of this.
“We are talking,” Ashim said. “And you’re leaving.”
She had spent a life refusing to cry and she wasn’t about to break down now.
“Ashim…” she started and then she stopped.
She did not beg, Emily remembered.
And she had sworn he could not hurt her.
But he just had.
“Call off the staff,” Emily said. “I can get my own things.”
She brushed past him and went down to the cabin to collect her stuff, yet it had already been packed up for her. While she had been cooking breakfast and wondering where they might lead, he had been preparing to remove her from his life.
She bent over and picked up the bag and then turned and saw he stood in the door. The sun was behind him and he had dark glasses on and there was so much anger in the air, for a stupid, giddy second she wondered if this was a game.
She actually wondered if he was about to push her on the bed and wrestle off her knickers but then she knew it wasn’t a game because he was suddenly cruel and the Ashim she had known had never been cruel.
“Go find your friend,” Ashim said. “You can compare notes.”
Emily said nothing.
“Is she going to Switzerland?” Ashim pushed. “Are you both on the pull again tonight?”
“Fuck off,” Emily said and picked up her bag. “I don’t have justify myself to you.” But as she brushed past him he caught her wrist.
He was about to say something.
Ashim was about to shame her and bring her husband into this.
And Ashim fought very hard to hold onto it because once he hadn’t cared that she might have one.
Then he looked into lying, cheating eyes and a woman who ran off with men she didn’t know and handed over her dark, deep desires and, despite his rage, despite his turmoil, he worried for her if she wasn’t with him.
“Emily you need to….”
Oh, but she halted him with a low warning and her lips came to his ears to deliver it in a soft whisper. “You don’t get to dictate my needs, Ashim, and neither shall you get again the chance to satisfy them.”
Somehow, as she was offloaded, Emily left with her pride.
Chapter Twelve
Yesterday the yacht had moved at a leisurely cruise.
Now, it cut the water with impressive speed as the captain followed Ashim’s order to get the hell back to Cannes.
It wasn’t long before she was being helped into a speedboat to be taken ashore. And that Ashim didn’t need to see, so he stayed in the bedroom at first. But he looked at the bed, rumpled from the lovemaking and the air was still scented from them, and he could stand to be in there no more.
Up on deck it was no better though.
There was the breakfast she had made untouched, the cream had long since melted and when he thought of them eating together, making plans to be together, his anger unleashed a little. With a swipe of his hand he crashed the tray from the table so that it shot off like a bullet from a gun, and then its contents cracked and lay all spilled crushed and broken on the deck.
Ashim told the captain to cut the engine and he turned and watched as she reached the shore and he stared silently for several moments as she stood on the beach where they had first met, dressed now in his shirt.
He watched as Emily then sank to the ground and looked back at him.
They were too far from each other for it to be certain that their eyes met but certain Ashim was.
He stared into lying, cheating eyes and told her that soon she would be gone his mind.
By tonight in fact.
He would hit the clubs and casinos and would party right to the edge of the desert he swore, yet he knew that he lied.
Nothing and no one ever really moved him.
It was how he had been raised—to care only for his country.
But now he cared for another whether he wanted to or not. He recalled her words during their first time and now he fully understood them.
“I don’t want it to be my fault.” That I cheat.
He could understand that first night—she had dark desires that ran deep and perhaps her husband could not satisfy them.
It was what had taken place this morning that was like a fist in the gut to Ashim.
It was then that she had cheated.
Emily had looked deep into his eyes as she came, she had loved him with her body and her mind.
His phone buzzed and Ashim ignored it and just stared back to where she still sat but when it buzzed again and he chose to answer it—he would let her watch as he moved on with his life.
Ashim turned his back to the shore and hoped she would note his dismissal.
“Hey,” Ashim said to his brother but his voice came out husky and he cleared it before speaking again. “What do you want?”
“I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Khalid said.
Ashim remembered the phone ringing just after they had made love and how he had not wanted the world to invade just yet.
Now it had.
In every way it had.
And he remembered it ringing again and him kicking the bag from the bed and he remembered again the hell of seeing those rings.
“Are you there?” Khalid asked when his brother stayed silent.
“What do you want?” Ashim asked again, he was in no mood to make small talk with his brother.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to make the flight this afternoon. I’m in New York.”
“So.” Ashim shrugged. “Get the plane to come and pick you up from there.”
“No, I don’t want to go back.”
Had he thought about it, Ashim could have seen this coming. Khalid rarely went back to Alzaquan and when he did he caused upset and scandal.
Ashim returned often and, from the moment he stepped, robed, onto the plane he was Sheikh Ashim Al Raquar, Crown Prince of Alzaquan and behaved in ways fitting of such a title.
“What are you telling me all this for?” Ashim asked. There was little love lost between them. “I suggest that whether you return to Alzaquan or not, is a conversation for you to have with our father rather than me.”
“Oh, I shall,” Khalid said. “I’m just letting you know that I shan’t be on the plane so that you don’t wait for me.”
“I won’t be waiting for anyone. I’ve already told him that I am making my own way back.”
“Fine, I’ll let him know to cancel the plane.”
“So when?” Ashim pushed. “When are you going to deign our people with an appearance?”
“I thought that was a conversation to have with our father.”
“No, that is a conversation to have with the king.” Ashim’s voice was black. “Which I shall be one day, and I tell you that when I am things will soon change.” His younger brother angered him with his spoiled ways. Khalid took all the benefits of extreme wealth and gave only trouble back to their people.
“Well you’re not king yet….” Khalid’s voice trailed off and A
shim heard the sound of a woman’s laughter. “I’m going to have to go.”
“I’ll cancel the plane,” Ashim said because, from the sounds of things, Khalid would not be getting around to speaking to his father anytime soon.
Ashim ended the call and let out a tense breath then he turned and looked out across the water and saw that Emily had gone.
His eyes scanned the beach, straining for one final glimpse but that was denied him.
The captain was hovering but rightly did not dare approach Ashim in his current mood.
The captain didn’t need to worry, Ashim thought darkly. He was sick now of Cannes and couldn’t wait to get away and hit Monte Carlo.
But then he knew he was lying, he was in no mood to party tonight.
And he knew now that, despite the anger he felt and the harsh words that had been said, he didn’t want Emily to be gone from his life.
He took up his phone and made several phone calls until finally he spoke with the right person.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” came a worried voice.
“Then make it so.” Ashim coolly responded.
Chapter Thirteen
Now Ashim had offended her.
His cruel dismissal of her simply did not add up to the man that Emily had, two nights ago, met.
How could it be only two nights that she’d known him?
Only, Emily realized, she hadn’t known him at all.
Oh, had he rolled over and told her to get out after the first night Emily could almost have accepted it.
Yet, he had taken her back in his bed and they had spent that blissful day and night. How could it be, Emily asked herself, that just an hour or so ago they had made love and now she sat on the beach like some washed up driftwood?
Emily stared back at him with questions battering her heart but of course they would never be asked nor answered.
“How Am I”?
Emily didn’t know.
She was as disorientated and drained as if she’d swum back to shore.
And still he stared at her, and she back to him.