by Mel Teshco
He raised his head and stared at her. "Are you or aren't you a virgin?"
She slapped his face, determined to make him hate her. Her legs were clamped together so hard, every muscle in her back and bottom ached. "I won't answer to you. You have no right."
"That is the last time you hit me," he said, his voice a growl. Any sign of boyishness vanished. "For a princess you have no concept of respect for your husband. It seems I shall have to teach you what it means to belong to me, step by step." He leaned over the bed and grabbed a cord from his rumpled headdress on the ground.
May sat and shoved at his shoulders to be free of him. If only she could grab her clothes and flee. The real world existed outside this expensive complex.
With the sinuous movement of a powerful, young man, he grabbed her and turned her onto her stomach. Then he pinned both her hands together above her head and tied them together with the cord. He did it with such ease, May knew it wasn't the first time he'd taken a prisoner.
Outraged, she managed to roll herself onto her back, scrunching her legs up in a sitting position, her face inches from his. "How dare you talk to me about respect?"
"Since it seems you cannot be trusted about your virginity, I will find out for myself." He pulled her down the bed and pressed on her knees until she was forced to straighten her legs, then slid his body to the side of her. Clamping her down by placing his thigh on hers, his hand moved over her stomach to stroke her bare mons, his thumb lightly rubbing over her slit just near her clitoris.
"Damn you." A tingling heat seemed to come out of nowhere when he stroked her and she had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself crying out. She moaned and rolled her hips, trying to avoid his touch but it only served to make the sensation overwhelming. Then his thumb slid in between her fleshy folds.
Rafi's touch scorched her, the intensity of the sensation, a wild shock. It zinged right up her spine and to her nipples, which she wanted him to lick again.
"When a woman plucks every hair from her body she is preparing herself for marriage. What were you preparing yourself for, Princess?"
*
Prince Rafi Salah al Din, third son of the late Sheikh of Omana, full brother to Sheikh Shahzad and half brother to Prince Khalid, stared at this jewel of a woman who railed against him. Although her father had demanded he beat his wayward daughter into submission, Rafi had no intention of doing so. She mesmerized him without even trying. Worse. He hadn't expected to enjoy her rebellious nature. The princesses from neighboring countries had been calm, their eyes downcast when they'd greeted him. Proper women who knew what was expected of them.
May was wildfire.
When he'd first viewed Maysarah, she'd been bent naked, looking for something in the bathroom cupboard. Rafi had such a blood rush to the head, at her rounded creamy buttocks and what lay between, that he knew he'd never get the image out of his mind. When she'd straightened, the mirror had reflected a striking and flawless woman. Her green cat-like eyes challenged him, her long blonde hair designed to run his hands through. One thing was clear to him, although a subservient wife would be culturally the right decision, life with Maysarah would be exciting and rich with pleasure.
If he could tame her.
At the moment, fury made her green eyes glitter, her body rigid underneath his thigh, and yet she reacted to his touch like a spark to tinder. Her heart-shaped face, petite upturned nose and full bow-like mouth belied a sensuality he was only beginning to discover. He wanted to satisfy his lust in her scented body and here she was, bound for his pleasure.
Rafi knew the struggling girl would eventually tire but the fight in her made the blood pulse in his body. His cock was so hard his balls ached, but he had deliberately chosen to keep his garments on. Careful to clamp both his hands around her thighs to avoid her kicking out at him, he moved down onto her body, his face positioned over her sex. His cheek was still stinging from the slap but there were times he enjoyed pain and this was one of them. He knew he'd never get her legs apart without hurting her, so he reached up and grabbed a large pillow, then positioned it under her hips.
She smelled of soap and woman. Rafi dipped his tongue to her clitoris, right between her pink petal inner lips.
Maysarah gasped. Her back arched and hips jerked upwards. Her eyes were wide with shock and her mouth open. "How dare you?" she all but whimpered.
"You enjoyed that."
"I felt nothing."
"The lies roll from your lips like syrup. I'll give you such pleasure that you'll open your legs and beg me to satisfy you."
Was this the first time for her? Hot breath left her lips and he could feel it fanning his face with every heave of her chest.
"Do you really think you can force me into feeling?"
"It will be my pleasure to do so." He opened her folds with his thumbs to expose her.
"I'll hate you for the rest of your days."
"And yet you gasp and moan under my touch." This time he licked along her slit as far as he could until he reached the part where her legs were jammed together. He could taste her heat and smell her womanly scent the closer he came to her entrance. Her knees remained clamped so tightly that her legs were trembling under his body. He'd never enjoyed anything half as much.
*
May could barely comprehend that her father had sold her like he would a sheep or a cow to the young sheikh. Although it was legal, her country had moved on, celebrating unions with weddings like they did in the West. As a princess, she had no say in selecting her marriage partner, normally there would be celebrations that went on for days, giving the couple a short time to get to know one another.
This should not be happening.
The stranger who had tied her hands, lay on her legs and lapped between them, was her husband. While hatred for him boiled like lava inside her, every glide of his tongue made her yearn for more. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out the exquisite sensation. All her willpower seemed to dissolve as he cupped her bottom and pushed her hips up so she couldn't evade his mouth. His lips and tongue worshiped her until she was slick with need. He continued with a rhythm until she rolled her hips to every lick. Hating him, hating herself for the insidious need. When it became impossible to bear, her thighs parted as if on their own accord. What would his cock look like? What it would feel like inside her? She couldn't stop the thoughts.
A deep moan left her lips when his tongue circled around her clitoris. She'd never experienced such hot pleasure that seemed to spread inside her with every lick. Touching herself had never felt like this. Her breasts were swollen and if her hands were free she would have pinched her nipples. Rafi's tongue was a tool of excitement and she was well aware he was using it to control her.
May focused on trying to bring her thighs back together but Rafi shifted his hands from her buttocks and pushed her legs wide, resting his elbows in the space between her knees. This time he licked right along her seam. Her hips jackknifed and a hoarse cry left her lips. Something primeval seemed to take over her mind as she arched her back and raised her hips to his mouth. A tremor started in the base of her spine as she surrendered.
He speared her with his tongue right at her center but didn't enter her. "You are very tight, Maysarah. Tell me what this man did to you again?"
"Bastard." It was more a moan. He knew she was still a virgin, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it to him.
He chuckled, clearly well pleased with himself, and began to swirl his tongue around her entrance, lapping up her juices.
He raised his head just for a moment to stare at her with raw lust. "You surprise me, Princess. For a virgin, you are very responsive. I will gain many hours of satisfaction on you once I have trained you in the pleasures of the marriage bed."
"Go to hell." Yet she burned for him. Didn't want him to stop. The bastard. His lips were glistening and he was breathing heavily, lust burning in his eyes. She had no idea if it was because she desperately needed him to finish
what he'd started but this man who had seemed so frightening at first instead appeared young, handsome and virile.
She wanted to blot him out because she knew she was losing the battle for her freedom, but she throbbed so badly between her legs, she'd give anything for the pleasure to continue.
Perhaps he saw the plea in her eyes, something she would never put into words because she refused to beg. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and she didn't try to fight him. She didn't have the strength, not when she needed him so much. This time when he licked her, he spread her so wide with his fingers, that she was open like a split peach. When he sucked her clitoris into his mouth and licked over the top of it, her orgasm hit her in a rush that had her crying out. Her back arched, a groan that started somewhere deep in her throat left her lips. Her whole body was in his thrall. She'd never experienced anything like it before.
While she lay gasping, jelly-boned with desire, he moved to lay alongside her, holding her as she tried to catch her breath. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why haven't you forced yourself on me?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Then I will not do so. I'd rather train you to ask for what you want. Soon you'll beg to have me inside you."
"Fuck you."
"With pleasure," he chuckled.
She ached for him, raw with a need she'd never known, but she refused to acknowledge it. Somehow having such a wondrous experience without him taking her didn't seem complete. Although he may not be much older than she, Rafi clearly knew how to look after a woman, how to make her want more. "I never asked to have a husband. I resent my father forcing a match on me. I want to be a free woman."
"Perhaps when you get to know me you will feel differently."
"How so?"
"I don't intend to imprison you. It is important that you stay well and happy if you are to have healthy sons." His hands stroked over her breasts, his fingers gently pulling at her nipples.
"I'm not a brood mare." Something fluttered deep inside her womb in response to his touch. Damn him for making her want him. Clenching her eyes closed, she tried to cut out the sensuality of his touch. Her mind was playing tricks because, despite her desperate need to withdraw from him, all she could think of was him stroking her.
"Two healthy sons is what I require." He continued caressing her face and down her body, stopping just above her pubic area.
May's eyes snapped open and she turned to him. "No! Look what happened to my mother. She gave my father two children and lost all her freedom." Once Rafi had her back in his country of Omana, she'd be living in a gilded prison.
He frowned as he observed her. "Your mother had an affair. Let me warn you Maysarah, I will not tolerate whorish behavior."
May's blood began to boil at Rafi's warning. How dare you say that? "My father was not faithful. He totally neglected her."
"Your father had to marry again. He needs a male heir."
"I won't do because I'm a woman. I'm sold off like an animal. Ugh! Why am I even talking to you about this? You're as bad as he is. You have no idea what my mother suffered when my father discarded her, how I grieved seeing her so miserable."
Rafi put his hand over his heart. "I promise you on my life that I will try to repair your mother's misery. I cannot influence their marriage but I believe she is under house arrest."
"No one can fix that. Not even you."
His eyes flashed. "Maysarah you have a lot to learn about me. When I vow something, I do it."
Rafi was incredibly confident, but she doubted even he could persuade her father to let her mother go. Her lips tightened.
"I do not plan to take a second wife."
"You say that now but you'll do it when it suits you." Rafi could promise whatever he wanted but his word meant nothing to her. He might consider himself to be her husband but she did not.
"Do you want children?"
"Of course, but not yet." She didn't miss that he'd changed the subject. No doubt she'd been scowling at him just as he deserved. Oddly enough, though she should be afraid, she wasn't. When he said he wouldn't hit her she believed him.
"Then if you wish it, I will wait, though I warn you, I'm not a patient man."
Think Maysarah. Think. This conversation was going nowhere. She needed another approach. "Rafi?"
"Yes?"
"Will you untie my hands?"
"If you promise not to try and escape."
"I promise." The lie rolled off her lips but she had no remorse. After what had happened she had no doubt that they had chemistry together. Perhaps if she'd met him in a normal way, she'd have fallen for him, but not now and most certainly, not like this. If there was a chance to escape she'd take it. She had vowed to her mother. She would not be the wife of a sheikh.
Chapter Two
Rafi watched Maysarah through narrowed eyes as he untied her hands. He was so achingly hard he wanted to push her onto her stomach and take her from behind, but even though it was his right as her husband to claim her, he held back. Everything about this princess was beautiful from her fine, slender shoulders to her narrow waist and flared hips, but she refused to believe she was his wife. Taking her before she was ready would be cruel. Somehow he had to convince Maysarah to do her duty. One thing was for certain, she was far too compliant in her agreement. He'd felt the slight, almost imperceptible tensing when she'd lied to him. Her beautiful creamy skin was flushed but her eyes had narrowed.
Still, the girl had temerity, a quality well needed in sons when he bred them on her. She'd tried to disable him with a punch that would have winded him if he hadn't seen it coming and moved slightly. Her slap to his face had given him insight into her spirited nature and he'd been entertained. Docile women bored him.
Although Maysarah believed he didn't understand her Australian mother's dismay at her father taking a second wife, he more than comprehended the sentiment. His own mother had been raised in the Omani way to serve her husband, Sheikh Ali Salah al Din, except that hadn't stopped the sheikh from falling in love with his French mistress, Khalid's mother, and making her his second wife. His mother had been gutted. Her unhappiness had ruled Rafi's life. He had no intention of humiliating Maysarah by bringing other women into their marriage. But it was pointless pushing this as she didn't believe a word he said. The disgraceful whipping of her mother had fostered rebellion and distrust in the young woman. It was going to be tough to turn that around. He needed time alone with her.
Maysarah seemed to think she had a choice about their union when choice wasn't an option.
Not for any of them.
Omana was in danger. The image of his father's broken body flashed through his mind. He'd get to the bottom of his betrayal. It had to be someone close to the family who'd planted the bomb directly under his parent's stand at the country's millennium celebration. He'd held his mother in his arms as she'd died, slowly, painfully, several days later. He swallowed. Maysarah was wrong about him. When he loved, he loved with all his heart. He would avenge his parents' murder. It was his job to get to the bottom of the travesty. Omana needed this alliance with the powerful Qtara. He needed this beautiful princess far more than she knew and yet it was for more than just the alliance. Something about her stirred him when she'd lain soft and sated in his arms.
He glanced toward the pier where his luxury yacht was moored. He had to get her onto it, where he could privately seduce her into submission.
The doorbell rang and he jerked to his feet. He’d let his attention wander, his military training forgotten in a moment of passion. "Who are you expecting?"
"No one." She pulled the comforter over herself to cover her nakedness. "I was supposed to have checked out over an hour ago."
"Stay silent and get dressed." He watched as she snatched up her clothes and pulled on her underwear, bra, baggy pants and loose top.
The doorbell rang again. Damn!
Maysarah flew toward the bedroom door as if s
he had a demon on her tail but Rafi was quicker. He grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream.
"Oomph!" May twisted and turned, slamming her fist in the direction of his groin.
He shifted his hips to avoid the blow. He'd come prepared for a fight but part of him hated himself for what he had to do to this beautiful, willful princess. If she hadn't been so defiant, he could have courted her in the Omani way. But ever present reality bore down on him. Keeping his hand pressed to her lips, he grabbed the ties from inside his robe, gagged her first then efficiently tied her hands and legs. Her look of hatred bored through him. Bundling her over his shoulder, he carried her across the bedroom and put her in the ensuite bathroom, closed the door and strode down the corridor to answer the front door, just as a keycard clicked.
When Rafi yanked opened the front door the two elderly cleaners, carrying a mop, bucket and other assorted cleaning products, jumped.
"We're sorry to disturb you, sir. We knocked first."
He looked at his watch. "We should have checked out but my wife is unwell. Come back later."
"This apartment needs to be cleaned for the guests arriving tomorrow."
He dug into his pocket, pulled out a wad of cash and shoved it to them.
Their eyes bulged.
"For your inconvenience. Don't disturb us again. We'll be gone within an hour." Rafi slammed the door and slid the keychain in place. It would be dark soon. Maysarah was going to board his yacht whether she liked it or not but he'd give her a choice as to how she was going to do it.
*
If she had a knife, she'd use it. May glared at Rafi when he entered the bathroom and squatted in front of her where she was trussed up like a chicken on the floor. Fury addled her brain. Back hard against the vanity, she kicked out at him, aiming for his groin.
He clamped his legs shut as her feet slammed against his thighs, but it barely rocked him. "Calm down, Maysarah. We need to talk." He reached forward and untied her gag.