The Shiekh's Virgin Mistress

by Brooke, Jessica

  My eyes grew the size of saucers and I blinked at him, “Me?” I squeaked, “Like honey?”

  He put down his glass and cupped my cheek. He leaned to me and tenderly grazed his lips across mine, “Yes Anna, you.”

  My body clenched and winked, if that is even possible, that’s what it felt like it did. I wondered how I would walk, ever again, and I was truly smitten with the God of the desert.

  The meal was served in many varied courses. It was all delicious, but I can’t remember much past just being with Omar. He never once took his attention from me, not to check his phone, or even to talk to one of his men. He rarely took his eyes off of mine and the entire evening took on a dreamscape quality. It might have been the liquor and the wine talking, but I will only remember Omar and his charming way of consuming me for hours upon end.

  His way of being with me, was completely foreign to me. My dad had never paid my mother this much attention, and even now, five minutes didn’t go by without him checking his phone or needing to take a call. Part of me was highly uncomfortable with so much undivided attention, the other part of me however, the part that was wallowing and rolling around in my, pit of Omar, was quickly defeating that introvert hiding under the bed. The extrovert in me wanted to get up on top of that bed and wallow for real with the golden god of a man staring at me with so much hunger in his eyes.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When dinner was finally over, after hours and hours of food and libations, even the dessert was the best chocolate mousse thing I’d ever had, yeah, that I remembered; it was late in the evening, almost ten o’clock. Omar stood and threw his napkin on his plate and motioned for my hand. “You will accompany me to my penthouse.”

  I protested, “It’s really late.” The truth was I slept very little, having trained myself to need less and less sleep the older I got. I just didn’t have enough time to devote to sleeping when there was studying to be done. I figured I’d sleep when I was dead.

  “Nonsense. The night is young. You cannot deny me.” He said and again insisted I give him my hand.

  His guards were at the entrance to our private lofted restaurant that over looked Manhattan, waiting for us with legs slightly spread and hands clasped behind their backs. It seemed as if we were the dignitaries parading past. I’d felt badly for them while we ate and drank like kings and they could only watch and smell. I didn’t ask this time, I already knew better than to question his royal highness.

  My legs miraculously worked and I stood and set my hand inside of Omar’s warmth. His skin was like heated velvet, and I realized I wished to feel that hand on my skin, my real skin, the skin of my body. He held me securely with my hand in the crease of his elbow and we made our way back to the car and were soon cruising down the streets of New York. The bright colored lights blurred and became nothing but a Technicolor backdrop illustrating my current modern day fairy tale.

  His penthouse was beyond lavish and occupied the entire top floor of one of the most exclusive buildings in New York, or maybe the entire world. A butler type greeted us as the elevator doors opened. He was dressed in a caftan and had on some sort of a turban, or headdress, he looked the part and seemed cliché Arab to me now after spending so much time with Omar and his modern, western way of both dressing and speaking. Apart from his immense ego and the way he commanded everyone continually, he was as modern and hip as my dad had said. His cocky arrogance was understandable, and for a strange reason, it suited him perfectly and I don’t know that I would have liked him as much if he weren’t the ruler of all.

  The penthouse was decorated in beautiful hues of reds and gold’s and whites. Lots of white, and I commented on it. Omar’s answer was simply, “White is cooling.”

  He led me to a den, or sitting room, that was furnished in masculine hues of bronze and rich chocolate browns. The couches were the softest leather and the entire room smelled like the finest Italian leather. Omar went to a bar and poured us another drink. I sipped and discovered that familiar anise and orange of the Jura we’d had earlier. I hit an entirely new level of relaxed, although my heart refused to stop vibrating behind my ribs.

  After finished our drinks, he showed me more of his uptown palace in the clouds. The final room he pulled me into was his bedroom, and he quietly shut the double doors after we entered. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what he wanted and most of me was in agreement. I had to lose my virginity eventually, why not now? Why not to this beautiful, chiseled, golden god of a man that I knew was going to take his time and appreciate what I was giving him. If how he’d enjoyed the extensive meal we’d just eaten, was any portent, I had a good feeling he would savor and enjoy me unlike any other boy I’d ever known.

  I blinked at him and my heart ratcheted up another notch. My cheeks burned and I swallowed. He strode to me and without a word, he cupped my face and kissed me. His tongue parted my lips and he invaded my mouth. I opened for him, not just my mouth, my lips on my face, no, all of my literally opened for this man, and I melted towards him.

  I kissed him back and he gripped me tighter, running his hand behind my head and closing his fist into my hair. He held my head by my hair with one hand, and with his other he held my neck in a loose choke hold. His fingers stroked the soft skin of my neck, and his tongue continued to pillage my mouth.

  I still felt protected behind my armor of clothing so I hadn’t started to feel too nervous yet. That was until he deftly lifted the hem of my dress and cupped both my ass cheeks, dragging me to his front. “Anna, you are exquisite.” He breathed against my neck.

  I gave to his hands and molded myself to him, plastering my stomach to his front and pressing my breasts against his chest. It was then that I felt that hard length again, and it was then that he knew I’d recognized his arousal. He held me tighter and ground himself against me. I didn’t move away. “Omar,” I panted. He kissed me again and then pulled back, “I’m—um…” his hungry lips devoured my mouth and cut off my words.

  Our tongues danced and he bodily picked me up by my bottom, my dress was around my waist, but my hose were in place, so I still didn’t feel all that exposed, or penetrable. Getting the pantyhose off was going to take a bit of an effort, so I knew I had time, and besides, I was enjoying myself. I wrapped my high healed feet around his tight waist and I went with it as he walked to the biggest bed I’d ever seen. It was massive and must have required custom sheets. He stood near the edge of it, holding me while I wrapped all my tentacles around him like an octopus.

  We kissed and he palpated my butt cheeks through the nylons. He continued to make sounds of pleasure and hunger and need and most of all, he continued to tell me how perfect I was. He would graze his lips across mine and whisper one or two words, “Delicious –perfection –intensely pleasing –divine goddess.” Everything he said and did seemed to vibrate in perfect unity with my body and I couldn’t, not, respond.

  My own level of arousal and need frightened me, I felt a kind of desire I’d never previously even comprehended and I suddenly understood why girls gave it up even when they’d declared chastity. I was swept along on this strong current of Omar, and I was feeling things in my body I’d never imagined. “Omar, you’re a god.” I muttered.

  His hearty chuckle was filled with agreement and that made me giggle. “I’ve been told so my entire life.” He finally sat me down on the edge of the bed and he backed up. He began unbuttoning his vest and then his shirt. His golden mocha skin gleamed out from where he’d left it to hang open. My mouth watered. He kicked off his shoes and then dropped his pants to puddle around his feet. He had on thigh length under armor, tight briefs in jet black, which only made his golden skin seem lighter.

  He tore off his shirt and vest next and then he stood before me in all his splendor. It was then that I became transfixed by his penis. Again, it seemed even more pornographic as it strained behind the high tech performance fabric of his shorts. I could even make out the tributary of veins as they raced to supply blood to what they adored. C
aressing him and protecting him and causing all of him lift that engorged crown and reach ever upwards.

  My mouth watered. I blinked at—It, him, that thing that I wanted to touch. I couldn’t help myself. I’d never touched a real one before, and I ached to know what it would feel like in my hand, inside my pussy, and yeah, in my mouth. My pussy clenched and my clit throbbed. I blinked.

  He let me look at him and I finally found words, although not enough air and my thready voice cut off until it was just a faint whisper. “Omar, you are the most stunning man I’ve ever seen.”

  He smiled. He stepped out of his pants and indicated I lift one of my shod feet. I obeyed. He carefully unbuckled my shoe and removed it, and then did the same with my other. “Your dress Anna, I wish to see you naked.”

  I paused, but obeyed. I still had on the bra and the hose and under the hose, my cute lace panties, which by the way, were wreaked and felt as if I’d wet myself. I knew I hadn’t, I knew this was just my body’s way of preparing itself for the god like king demanding entry to our city. I nodded and he helped me by lifting it by the hem until it was suddenly off. I shivered.

  He went to his knees at the edge of the bed and for a moment I thought he was going to worship me. He kind of did, but his eyes stayed on mine for moments longer and then he ran both his hands down my ribcage until he stopped at the swell of my hips. He startled me as he simultaneously pulled me closer and his head went to my stomach. He kissed me across the top of the panty hose, and his hands held me fast. He was strong, but it wasn’t with force, it was more with hunger and urgency to keep me as close to him as possible. His lips were warm and tender and my body started aching down deep in the pit of my belly.

  I knew what it felt like to have an orgasm; at least I did when I used our magic showerhead in the bathtub and aimed it just right. So I wasn’t totally naïve about my own body. The thing is, what I’d felt before when I was masturbating and alone, wasn’t even close to what I already felt inside me, and that did frighten me.

  Omar was now cupping both my breasts and lifting them the best he could through the hindrance of the bra. He made a frustrated sound and then his eyes plead with mine before he verbalized, “Anna, allow me access to your most luscious flesh.”

  Still had on the hose, so what if I let him see them? I could still stop him if I so wished. At least that was what I kept telling myself, but at this point I was pretty sure I was well on my way down the river of denial. I reached behind me and unfastened the bra. It popped open and I sighed. It still hung seductively around my shoulders and continued to cover both tits.

  He went in from under and used first a hand, and then all of a sudden it was his mouth and his face and he was there, suckling on my nipples. One thumb was slowly rotating over my left nipple and his hot lips were on the other. He was drawing on it and pulling as much of my boob into his mouth as possible. My eyes rolled in my head and I heard the moan of pleasure as it rushed up from my vocal chords. He scraped his hand harder over my nipple, scrape, scrape, scrape, and his teeth nibbled on what was in his mouth. I more than groaned. I sort of made a startled, joyous sound.

  He growled and retreated only long enough to stand up, pick me up, slide me backwards and then he was on me, hovering over me and resting just his groin against my hips. He planked there over me until I regained a modicum of composure. I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was that the bra was entirely gone and I didn’t remember actually taking if off my shoulders. My nipples jutted lewdly and my tits ached. They wanted more from him and his magic mouth. Lots more!

  He stared at me with a look of adoration I’d never seen in another human, ever, even in the movies. I fluttered my lashes and touched his chin, running my finger across the crisp stubble and finding it erotic as hell. He lowered his hips and pushed himself against my belly. He was on fire and so hard he felt like stone. I choked, but damn my body anyway for pushing back.

  “I need to enter your body Anna. Please do not deny me this tonight. I’ve remained filled for you this entire evening. I never beg another for anything, but I am pleading that you do not deny me this.”

  I gulped and stuttered, not knowing how to tell him I was a virgin. It seemed monumental to me, and it also seemed to me as if it meant I would make a terrible lover. After all, I really didn’t have a clue. I hadn’t even watched porn. I’d read quite a bit and had devoured my fair share of erotica, but that was hypothetical and in my mind. This was for real. Omar was a real life man who wished to pierce my long protected veil of chastity. How did I tell him?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Omar, please stop.”

  He didn’t, and only increased his grinding and rubbing, and then he bit my nipple hard. I screamed. He looked at me, but kept my tit in his mouth and he mumbled around its intrusion, “Anna, do not deny me now.”

  “I’m not denying you anything; I just need to tell you something.”

  He sighed and ceased his suckling, but he pushed his hard cock roughly against my mound, and I felt his heartbeat and his scalding heat. My breath caught and my hips lifted. He made a sinister sound and pushed even harder against me, “You are aching for this Anna, I can feel it in you. I know you want me as much as I do you.”

  My voice sounds strangled, “I do Omar, I do—I think I do—the thing is.” He gripped my hips as he rolled his and showed me how long and hard he really was. “Omar,” my chest heaved and my breasts wiggled. “Omar, I am –um.” Then I spit it out so fast and in such a rush, he froze completely and his entire body stiffened. “Um, the thing is, I know I’m kind of old, but well, I’m a virgin, and I don’t know anything and I might be horrible at this and I really don’t know what I’m doing and you might not want me since I’m not an experienced lover.”

  He righted himself and went back on bended knees to lean on his shins. His eyes bore into mine, but he said nothing for a very long time. His hand on my thigh rubbed me and squeezed me as he thought; I waited and kind of held my breath.

  “Here, sit up, we must discuss this.” He instructed. I offered him my hand and he pulled me upright. I slid back until I hit the headboard, and he crawled the necessary distance to sit at my feet as I crossed my legs. He crossed his too and then slid even closer so we were touching knees and feet in this odd position. He reached out and stroked his big hands across the insides of my thighs and then he settled on holding my ankles. “You must realize I need to touch you, as much of you as possible, at all times.”

  I gulped and nodded and then crossed my arms over my exposed breasts. I felt more than naked in this moment even though my bottom half was still covered. He reached out and pulled my hands down and then grazed a warm palm across my left nipple. I shuddered. He smiled. I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  His look of astonishment was almost comical, “Why would you apologize for this immense offering?”

  I furrowed my brow, “Immense?”

  “Anna, I already considered you a prized jewel; now, now you tell me you are offering me your maidenhead? This is the best day of my entire existence my sweet innocent angel.”

  I gave him another apologetic expression and lifted my shoulders, “But Omar, I don’t know anything. I will be a terrible lover. I’ve never done anything even close to this.” I motioned with my hand indicating both of our almost naked states.

  He grinned and his eyes sparkled, “You really have no idea the immensity of what you are offering me. Do you?” I shook my head and went to cover my boobs again, and he tilted his head and gave me another one of those perfectly translatable looks. I lowered my arm and sighed.

  “Look at me.” I did, and his eyes locked on mine as he spoke. He also began stroking his hard length through the fabric of his shorts. My eyes traveled there, and I was wholly incapable of tearing them away. He chuckled and gripped himself as he spoke, “You may appreciate this as a gift.” He gripped his cock harder and I saw the head engorge even more. My mouth watered. “What you are offering me Anna is priceless bey
ond measure. I am certain you were meant specifically for me. Of this I am certain and my desire to claim you as mine, and mine alone was sent from Allah. From the very beginning, it was written that you shall be mine. Of this I am certain. You are unspoiled by others; you are indeed a divine being.”

  I snorted, “I am not at all divine,Omar.” My cheeks burned at his words and also at his display of masculinity as he continued to stroke and fondle his erection.

  “Are you prepared for the pain?” He asked.

  I nodded and grimaced, “I’ve heard it really hurts. But only for a second, right?”

  He bit his lower lip and gave me an apologetic look, “It will no doubt hurt you longer than a second, and you will bleed. You are mature to have remained intact. I will consider it one of most the precious gifts of my existence.” He reiterated.

  I sighed and relaxed against the headboard, “I’m kind of afraid, but I do want this, you, I mean I want you. Omar, I want to give this to you.”

  He went to his knees and stalked up my body until his face was just a shiver of a breath away. His arms caged in my head as he leaned against the back of the bed, and my legs unfurled of their own volition and wrapped around his tight waist. He moved closer and closer and then I felt him again, and all that hard heat. He kissed me slowly, taking his time now and in no rush. “Anna—my beautiful goddess—I will savor this night for eternity.” He kissed me and penetrated my mouth with his tongue, exploring and tasting mine. Devouring me as if I were indeed made from honey. He pushed himself even closer to me.