Desert Sheikh vs American Princess

by Teresa Morgan

  Even more than a bed right now, she needed to get him out of his clothes. Needed to put his ass in her hands to satisfy her curiosity. And to satisfy other things.

  Thank God he had her on the bed in seconds. They fell together, on their sides, never breaking eye contact. She immediately began pulling at his shirt, consumed with a rushing need to feel as much of his skin as possible against her own.

  She pushed him to his back and kneeled over him, wrenching captive buttons from their oppressive buttonholes. As his skin was exposed, golden and tan, with a fine crop of black hair contrasting to the smoothness underneath, she leaned down and kissed each freshly uncovered inch.

  Where their bodies met, his cock asserted itself, straining at his trousers. Her body responded, slickening for him and dampening her panties.

  When she had his shirt off, he tried to flip her beneath him.

  "Nuh-uh," she said, shoving him back down. Not now, not when she was so close to having those trousers off. To getting her hands on that bare ass.

  She ripped at his belt, yanking it out in one long pull and tossing it aside. But when she put her hands to his zipper, he took advantage, overbalancing her and getting her under him.

  The frustrated animal inside her growled. Even her hands were trapped. At least they were trapped at his fly. She popped the button, then felt a metal tab and pulled down. The zipping sound was one of the best things she'd ever heard in her life.

  He gave up his assault on her neck and inched lower, kissing a path to her breasts... and taking his still-covered ass out of her reach. An annoyed yowl came out of her.

  Walid froze.

  "Noelle." He looked up at her, his jaw framed by the scarlet satin of her lingerie. "Do you not like this? Would you like to stop?"

  "No. Please don't. It's just that--" Her mind seized up. How could she tell him?

  "I can do other things, if you will tell me what you like."

  His mouth--a very clever mouth that could be better used doing some more clever things to her skin--turned down. But the look on his face gave her an irresistible full-body giggle, which seemed to send him even deeper into confusion.

  She bit her lip a little, and even that couldn't keep the smile from her face. "I'm obsessed with your butt. Have been since we met. You seem to be doing a good job of keeping it away from me."

  Walid's gaze danced from one side to the other, as if he expected someone to jump out and explain the joke. "You wish to touch my--" Here he said a word in Arabic.

  "If that's your ass, then yes, please."

  He shook his head at her. "You are a very strange woman."

  "You can kidnap someone normal next time."

  "But that would be so much less interesting." He dropped a kiss between her breasts.

  Interesting. No one had ever called her that before. She kind of liked it, God help her.

  "Now if you could just get off my hands, I'd appreciate it," she suggested.

  "I suppose I could do that," he mentioned, pushing his stomach tighter against hers, trapping her more thoroughly. "But you have not made my life easier. I see no reason to grant your wish."

  "Hoooooh," she breathed, tugging to get her arms free. Useless. "I am so going to torture you when I get myself loose. You will get the butt squeezing of your life."

  "I certainly look forward to it." The corner of his lips tilted up in the classic self-satisfied look of a male who thinks his dominance will last forever. "And now, I think this will come off."

  He tangled a finger in the ribbon that held her lingerie together. With one long pull, the satin slid out, leaving the two sides unfastened. But he couldn't open them to reveal her until he moved off her. And freed her arms to do whatever she wanted.

  "What's your next move, genius?" She grinned at him.

  He didn't hesitate. "This."

  He pulled her into a sitting position, her back cradled against his chest. And his fantastic butt well out of her reach.

  Before she could complain, he put his hand to her sex. Then she didn't want to.

  "You are already wet."

  "You really are a genius," she pointed out. The sarcasm's effect was lost in the fact that her throat was closing from the zinging pleasure waking up between her legs. She was vulnerable, totally exposed to him. But she found she loved it. Found herself opening her legs even wider.

  "Hmmm," he said, and damn him for sounding all cool and casual. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  He found her clit, swollen and sensitive, and rolled the little bud between his fingers. Electric jolts sparked through every part of her, and a blistering heat spread from her groin. She squirmed in aching delight. Good. It felt so damn good. It was almost too much for her.

  Almost.

  "Do you like that, Noelle?"

  God, she liked everything. The musky scent of the room, his heat against her back. The significant hardness poking at her butt. The way he kissed her neck, just below her ear. But she wasn't going to tell him. She wasn't going to give him that power. She heroically kept her trap shut.

  In this position, she couldn't do anything back to him. And she couldn't stop him from doing anything he wished--not that she wanted to. If he had been any other man, she would have gotten out of the position as quickly as she could. But Walid? With the guy who was totally honest, who did what he said he was going to do? There was no danger here. Only pure pleasure.

  And lingering frustration over not getting to grope his ass.

  "I can't touch you," she said. "Let me touch you."

  "No." He slipped one finger inside her wetness, nearly sending her leaping off the bed.

  He stroked her most sensitive spot with his thumb, caressing her inside and out. A moaning squeal came out of her. She was nearly blind with all the pleasure running through her veins. With each touch, she took a step toward a finish line.

  "You've--" she hissed as he added another finger at the same time he flicked her clit back and forth. "You've done this a lot."

  She felt his chest stiffen, his hand still for a moment before renewing the delicious stroking that was sending her head into a spiral.

  "It has been some time for me. I have been ruling a country."

  She didn't have to see his face to know he told the truth. Walid always told the truth. But why admit this to her?

  "Besides that, Noelle..." Damn, she liked the exotic way he said her name. She could get used to it, and wasn't that dangerous. "I have never seen the point of doing such things without emotional content."

  Emotional content? Did he mean "love"? She gasped the word as he pressed his fingers inside her, making heat radiate from her sex to her fingertips.

  "Not love, but at least a mutual respect and admiration."

  With her brain mostly taken up with generating happy hormones, she barely had the mind power left to understand the English language. Somehow, she managed.

  "Maybe." She had to swallow back a groan of appreciation before she could continue. "You don't like making yourself vulnerable to strangers."

  He moved his mouth close to her ear. "Do you not find that making yourself vulnerable to those closest to you is even more difficult?"

  Before she could answer, a final crashing wave took her down. She shuddered and gasped as the delicious climax broke inside her. Euphoria pulsed through every atom of her body, and she did something she'd never done during sex with any man. She laughed.

  She laughed for the pure joy washing through her body, racking the strength out of her. Walid stiffened behind her, no doubt wondering (again) what the crazy woman was doing.

  Once the last shocks had faded, she twisted toward him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ripped the grin from her face.

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, all serious.

  "In my culture, we are taught that hospitality to guests is a solemn obligation."

  "Well, your hospitality to your abduction victims needs
some work. Except for that last part. I liked that last part." She kissed him, deep and long, their tongues tangling. As she did, she took him in her hand and stroked him. Oh, he felt good, big and hard--the thought that he'd be inside her soon made her practically vibrate with anticipation.

  Suddenly, she wanted that more than anything. "Walid," she said.

  He didn't need any more of an invitation. He lowered her onto her back, her head resting on one of his silken pillows. She heard rustling as he grabbed a condom from his nightstand and used it to sheath the hardness poking at her thighs.

  She was hot and wet for him, but he entered her slowly, with care. He felt good inside her--she had to stretch to welcome him, but the sensation of being filled by him was amazing. She took a deep breath and relaxed around the unaccustomed hardness.

  He pushed a sweaty lock of hair from her forehead. "Are you well?"

  "I'm great. How are you?"

  A slight twist of his mouth made him look roguish, took five years off his age. "I do not recall the last time I have been this excellent. Are you certain you are well?"

  She nodded, all the response she could manage.

  "Then I will give you the rest," he said.

  "Mmmmm," she said, lost in her happiness. "The rest?"

  He didn't answer, but she felt a thrust and--

  Holy crap. Even more of him slid into her. She gasped for breath. He seemed to reach all the way inside her, leaving no part of her most secret places untouched.

  "Noelle?" he asked, his tone all concern.

  "Great," she managed to croak. She swallowed, got her voice back. "Really. I mean it."

  She was out of words, so she slid her hands down his back and finally--finally!--had his butt exactly where she'd wanted it. She gave the gorgeous twin half-globes the gorgeous squeezing they deserved.

  Some kind of juddering spasm quaked his abs, taut and hard against her own flat belly.

  Was he laughing? He was laughing. Laughing so hard that he hung his head and his lips ever so slightly touched the skin over her collarbone. A place she'd always been insanely ticklish. She squirmed with the pleasant torture.

  Then his hips began to move, making the torment worse. He kissed at exactly the right spot to reduce her to boneless, giggling jelly--right where her neck met her shoulder. At the same time, he thrust into her, hitting her oversensitized clit with each movement. The sensations built inside her, the excitement, the tightening. Every thrust made her rise, sent her climbing toward the peak of a great mountain.

  Too much. It was way too much, and she went over the edge. She was flung over a cliff into open space. Shattered pieces of her went flying away, off on ecstatic journeys of their own.

  He followed her, gushing into the condom with sudden heat. She drew him down to her, pulling when he resisted lying on her. With him still inside, she wrapped herself around him, arms and legs holding him as close to her as she could as aftershocks rocked him.

  They lay twined together for what seemed like forever. And no time at all. His weight felt like nothing as he lay on top of her.

  "Noelle, I am crushing you."

  A frisson of what?--warning? fear? anticipation?--trembled in her belly. What was she doing? She'd never clung to a guy after sex like this. The few men she had slept with, she'd definitely liked, even cared about. But clung to like some kind of weird barnacle? No way.

  "It takes more than that to crush me," she said, and meant it. "You'll have to try harder."

  He planted his forearms on either side of her head, propping himself up. And looking into her eyes. "I have no desire to crush you, like this, or any other way."

  "You won't," she promised. "I'm a big girl, I can take it."

  He scanned her face as if he was looking for something. Did he find it? She never knew. He simply rolled her to her side and folded her back to his chest.

  Normally, she loved this part. Held close, bathed in sweaty warmth and happy hormones. She felt her mind start to spin down, rational thought melting away. And some small part of her recognized what a horrible idea it was to get comfortable here.

  Eight

  NOELLE WOKE COOL and cozy under Walid's sheets. She also woke alone.

  Thoughts drifted through her sleepy mind like golden dust motes through a shaft of morning light.

  I slept with Walid last night.

  It was amazing.

  I can still smell him on the sheets.

  He's not here now.

  He said he wouldn't regret it. He probably regrets it.

  The only part she regretted was this part, right now. The sex? That had been hot, just like Walid. She should probably check the linen for scorch marks.

  He'd been right. They were good together. Really good. Not only did they heat up the bedroom, when they weren't fighting, they had an emotional connection. There was something between them that had the potential to grow.

  But no matter what, he was the guy who'd kidnapped her. The guy who was still kidnapping her, in fact. It wasn't like he'd stopped.

  How much did that matter now? Okay, it wasn't great. But she sort of understood his motives. It wasn't about her at all; it had been to get her father to pay up money he legally owed. Now that she knew Walid a little more, she knew he had to have some desperate reason for needing that money, or he wouldn't have done it.

  She probably should have gotten that info out of him before sexing him up, she thought. She would definitely have to find out before sleeping with him again. If he even wanted to.

  What was going to happen with him now? Yes, they'd connected in bed last night, but more than that, she'd revealed way too much about herself. He even knew about Bonnie.

  Thale definitely had a big mouth.

  Was she going to keep trying to escape now? Why would she? She could just wait her father out, enjoying Askar's hospitality and Walid's bed. When her dad finally paid his bill--or Walid got tired of her and kicked her out--she could fly off into the sunset.

  Was that Walid's goal in sleeping with her? Maybe last night was a tactic, him trying to control her after all. Hadn't seemed that way, but here she was, considering trashing her escape plans.

  Not good. Or was it? Was she seeing things that just weren't there?

  She let out a mental scream of irritation, but even that came out strangled.

  Here was her problem: she needed to go for a run. A run would clear her mind, spark the brain cells, and fill her with happy chemicals that made everything seem better. Then she could face her problems.

  She sat up, the sheets falling to her naked waist. As she braced herself to launch into the (very confusing) day, she felt a crispy crackle under her hand.

  A paper. With scrawled writing. Walid's writing.

  Noele:

  Forgive me, I should like to make love to you this morning, but I have busines.

  I leave you something to ocupy you until we see each other again, this evening. You wil find it on the table. I know you wil take care of this historic artifact, which I do not have to tel you is special. I have given you every caution about this, but as you insist on being your excelent stubborn self, I provide this distraction before you atempt to build an explosive device and blow a hole in the wals of my palace.

  Please enjoy.

  Yours,

  Walid.

  P.S.: I do not regret last night.

  P.P.S.: Give my regards to the pirate princes who lives in your head. I think this should please her, at least.

  If you'd asked her what Walid's handwriting would be like, she would have said straight-edged and precise. Like him. No question.

  Well, some of his writing was like that. Some was curly and spontaneous. Instead of conformity, each of his words decided what size they wanted to be and just went with it. And what was with his habit of leaving out a consonant in words with double letters? Even in her name. Did he do it to save time? And was it bad that she thought "Noele" was kind of cute?

  Probably very bad.

 
; But one word stood out from all the others.

  Artifact, suggested Bonnie, who'd been absent during last night's activities. But Walid greeting her had summoned the pirate princess, naturally.

  "Yours."

  Bonnie rolled her mental eyes. Whatever. Let's find what he left for me!

  Wrapping herself with a robe that hadn't been on that chair last night, and that smelled even more like Walid than the sheets, Noelle stepped over to the table.

  Da-amn, Bonnie breathed, and Noelle couldn't bring herself to disagree.

  Historic artifact.

  The map. The freakin' treasure map.

  X marks the spot, enthused Bonnie.

  On the map, all of Askar lay before her, in miniature. The borders with Zallaq and Yalbrin were the limits. That was good. Since both Zallaq and Sadad had once been part of Askar, they might have been on the map, and part of the treasure hunt, too. That would have made searching for the Palm of Askar way harder, and it would have been complicated if the Palm had been found in what was technically another country. Guess Askar, Zallaq, and Sadad were separated before World War II.

  The map was printed on fabric. She touched it, reluctantly. Silk. Of course. Lightweight, durable, easy to hide. The perfect choice for a map you wanted to keep around for a while. Walid's great-grandfather had been very, very clever.

  Even cleverer, she realized, the map was not printed--or painted--at all. The gray lines that defined borders and landmarks, and some weird, weird symbols that didn't look like Arabic to her were woven right into the strands of the silk. This map could be washed, could age, could fade, but it would last for centuries.

  Look, pirate symbols! yelled Bonnie.

  Noelle swallowed, scrabbling at her rationality, trying to keep Bonnie's excitement from overtaking her. Because, yeah, they looked a lot like some sort of secret pirate code.

  That code looked so familiar, like something she forgot a long time ago and could remember if she just stared at it long enough.

  There, that pointy character with the curly bit looked like an arrowhead if you squinted. The next one, a tilted oval bisected with two lines... Was that a coffee bean? Triangle in front of a pair of circles. Maybe a bird's face, if you used your imagination.