“Cara, will you marry me?”
I remember that I need to breathe. I take one deep breath, and then another, his words echoing round my head. Did he offer me marriage? Am I hallucinating? Nijad, this handsome, virile man who is free to marry anyone he chooses, to live wherever he wants. His past and his future have been given back to him. All my self-doubt comes rushing back to me. I’m not good enough for him.
“You don’t need to be grateful, Nijad. You don’t owe me.”
Although the words he has spoken are more than I’d hoped to hear, I can’t bring myself to believe he wants to be with me.
He rocks back on his heels. “Still no confidence, you beautiful, wonderful woman who has the power to drive me insane? I’m asking you to marry me, for fuck’s sake. Of my own free will. Because it is the thing I desire most in the world. Before, I had nothing to offer you before, only the threat of hurt and pain. But now, now I want you as my wife.” He looks up at me, a grin starting, transforming his features, wiping away the sternness.
“We’ve obviously been apart too long.” His voice deepens, the voice of a Dominant. “Let me rephrase it. You are going to marry me.”
The command in his voice sends an arrow of desire straight down between my legs, and his arrogance brings forth a small laugh as, at last, I start to believe him. I fall to my knees, my hands reaching out tentatively to touch him, this man I thought I’d never feel again.
“Nijad – I love you so much!” I add shyly, “Of course I’ll marry you!”
Pulling me to him, his mouth crushes down on mine, demanding I open for him, his tongue sweeping inside. A Dominant’s kiss, his hand moving to the back of my head, he holds me to him, preventing the escape I have no intention of making. The taste of him fills me, sparking memories, igniting arousal, and immediately I’m wet for him, only for him.
When he lets me go he stands, his strong arms hauling me to my feet. Our chests mirror each other, heaving as we try to get our breath back. Then, in one smooth movement, he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed, his leg not seeming to notice the extra weight as he manoeuvres us until he’s sitting down on the edge with me on his lap.
“I want nothing more than to sink deep inside you, Cara.”
I nuzzle close to him, caring for nothing other than that he’s asked me to marry him. His hand traces my face then stills, his palm cupping my cheek. He leans forward, kisses me gently, and then pulls back. His eyes grow darker, and when he speaks his voice oozes dominance.
“Right now, I don’t know whether to fuck you or spank you. After everything I said to you, you doubted me.” His voice is full of authority and that alone starts a tingling, as though my blood is bubbling in my veins. “You doubted my love for you. You thought now I was free I’d want somebody else. You thought you wouldn’t be good enough for me.” He can read me like a book.
“I told you I’d spank you, Cara, if you ever doubted yourself again. We’ve been apart, but not for one moment have I stopped loving you or wanting you. Only you. There’s never been anyone else like you. Never been anyone who believed in me so much. My family, my best friend who’s like a brother to me, all accepted the evidence without question. But not you. You set me free. From this point on you will trust me totally. You will keep no secrets. I never, ever want to feel the fucking pain I felt when I found you had kept things from me. When I couldn’t be near you. Never, Cara. I never want to go through that amount of hurt again. I couldn’t survive it.”
Tears begin to fall from my eyes as the pain in his voice gets to me. I’m crying for the pain I’ve caused him, for the pain I’ve caused us. I’m sobbing, sobbing as though my heart will break.
“My life was stolen from me, but you gave it back.” His hand is now rubbing my thighs, my stomach. “I love you, Cara. Let’s start living our lives as they were meant to be, from this moment on.”
As his palms circle over my skin, the heat is spreading throughout my body. His words calm me, fill me with hope, and my tears start drying on my cheeks. “I told you I’d spank you, Cara, but you’ve escaped that for now. I can’t punish a pregnant woman.” Turning me to face him, he looks deeply into my eyes. “But when the baby’s born…”
I look up to see his eyes glittering with mirth and something else: joy. His words make me giggle, and I run my hand over his face, feeling over long beard, knowing he hasn’t even bothered to shave in his rush to come to me.
“It’s over, Cara. Whatever’s happened in the past is gone. It’s forgiven. Forgotten. There was and can never be another woman for me, and I promise to spend the rest of my years proving to you that I’m the man you can trust.”
My butt is resting on his jean-clad legs. As he speaks I realise my sobs have cleansed me, his words having taken all the doubt away. I start to feel a glow spread through my body; my arousal causes me to fidget, my dampness soaking into the material of his jeans, but I don’t care, and neither, does it seem, does he. The anguish I felt when I doubted his love for me quickly fades into insignificance as his lips come over mine once again.
“Open for me.” His tongue sweeps into my mouth, dancing with mine. It is a deeply intimate kiss, less violent and hungry, full of love, and I feel the sense of completeness and of finally coming home.
As our tastes mingle, it’s as though a switch has been thrown. Suddenly there’s a new urgency as our mouths clash and mould together. His tongue pushes and probes, mimicking a different action. My lips are already swollen and sore, but I can’t get enough of him. He tastes faintly of coffee, but mostly of him, the flavour I never thought I’d know again. Frantically, I start to pluck at his T-shirt, my hands pulling at the material, wanting him as naked as I am, but he’s the one in control. He pushes me away, lifts me up into the air, hugging me close, and then lays me down reverently upon the bed. His body comes over mine. Taking my hands he imprisons them in one of his, holding them above my head, as he starts kissing his way down my body. He spends time sucking my nipples, tweaking and rolling them between his fingers, causing spikes of sensation to travel straight down, as though there is an invisible connection. He releases my hands but I continue to keep them in place, restrained now by his will. With one hand toying with my breasts, he balances himself on the other; his absence causes a brief chill before the heat in his gaze warms me. Staring at my body, he leans down, putting his lips to my stomach. Putting his cheek against me, he murmurs in a voice filled with emotion, “My baby.” He sounds in awe. “You’re carrying my baby, Cara.” Pulling himself upright he studies me. “Your breasts are bigger.” Leaning over, he sucks a nipple in his mouth, biting down gently.
“And more sensitive,” I gasp out, causing him to grin.
He continues his exploration of my body, as if reacquainting himself with every inch. I can’t help myself squirming. His gentle touches are ramping up my arousal, and I need relief. With a knowing smile, he huffs out a soft breath against my stomach, almost causing me to shoot off the bed. Grinning, he kisses and licks me all over until he reaches my mound. He raises his head to look at me, and I see his expression sober. With a growl he changes position, pulling my legs apart and kneeling in between them. His eyes catch mine, and hold them as he plunges his finger inside me. My body contorts at his long-awaited touch. It seems so long since I felt his touch; I’d forgotten how good it felt. His invasion is so right. His mouth comes down exactly where I want it, teasing, making me writhe as I try to get him to the right spot, the point where all my nerves are screaming for his touch. He licks and nibbles. My hands come down and I grasp his hair, trying to move his head when, all of a sudden, two fingers are inside me, curling round on that soft spot that will send me over the edge while, simultaneously, he bites hard on my clit. My body jerks violently and I scream as I experience the most forceful orgasm of my life, made all the more intense by the passion and emotion sweeping through me. Wave after wave of endless pleasure, his tongue swiping across me as my body convulses time after time. Eventually, th
e spasms fade. It’s a while before my breathing is anywhere back to normal.
When I’ve partly recovered, I look up to see his chiselled, handsome face looming over me.
“Do you want me, Cara? Do you want me to fuck you?”
Without hesitation I stroke my hand down his cheek. “I want you.” My hand moves lower, and tugs at his shirt. “I think you are overdressed.”
In response he pulls his T-shirt over his head and reaches for his belt.
“Let me.” He pauses as I sit up and slide off the bed, first crouching down to untie and remove his boots. Next I go for his belt, my hands shaking as I fumble with the buckle but he waits patiently, giving me all the time I need. The leather slips through the loops and slowly, but carefully, I reach for his zip.
His hands come and cover mine. “Careful. I’m commando.” I grin at his rueful smile. I can feel his cock throbbing under the denim as though trying to punch its way out.
Gently, I ease down the zipper and push his jeans off his hips, grimacing at the vivid scarring on his leg. But I don’t pause for long. His cock springs free, proud and ready. Licking my lips, I have an overwhelming urge to taste him. Acting purely on instinct, I lean forwards and suck the moisture from his slit. It’s his turn to gasp. His fingers come up, twisting into my hair, taking hold. Feeling braver, I put my hands around his length and my tongue swirls around the engorged head.
“Put your lips around me, Cara,” he tells me gruffly. I open my mouth, taking him in as far as I can while my hands caress the span that’s too much to take. “That’s right. That feels too fucking good!”
Sucking him in and out, I reach down to touch his heavy balls, feeling them react to my touch as I gently roll and massage them. His hands are in my hair, gripping it tight, controlling, but not forcing. The feeling excites me; I love his dominance. I pull my mouth away, lick the veins on each side of his cock, and then take him in my mouth again, feeling his width stretch my jaw, trying to accept as much of him as I can. My naïve attempt makes me gag and swallow convulsively, and grasping my hair he pulls me away.
“Later.” His voice is gruff.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how…”
“Fuck, Cara, I’m not complaining.” He caresses my head. “It’s too fucking good. I’m a second away from coming and I want that to be inside you.”
He turns us around and pushes me down on the bed, coming down over me in one smooth movement. With a total lack of finesse, which brings no complaints from me, he positions himself at my entrance and starts to push inside gently, inch by torturous inch.
It’s not enough; I need him now. “Nijad, please!” I cry out.
He knows what I’m asking and doesn’t hesitate. With one long, fast thrust he’s inside me, stretching me, filling me, making me complete, his face taut as he struggles to keep control. Neither of us is going to last long. I can’t stop the contraction of my muscles around him, nor hold back my release. As my muscles squeeze him, he roars as he comes inside me, pulsing, filling me, spurt after spurt of hot cum which triggers another orgasm, extending both our pleasure.
He rolls his weight off of me, lying on his back; one arm flung up over his eyes. I reach out my hand as though to make sure he is real, and this hasn’t been a dream. But my hand meets solid flesh and I start to allow myself to believe this man is mine.
“I love you,” I tell him, softly.
“Oh Cara, my Sheikha. I love you too.” He’s breathing heavily. “Fuck, that felt good.” His hand caresses my stomach and I smile, knowing he’s thinking about the baby. The child whose future is now settled. I try to roll over to cuddle him, but he stops me. “Hold on a minute.”
Sitting up, he leans over the side of the bed and picks up his jeans from the floor, fiddling about to extract something from the pocket. Straightening, I see something clasped in his hand. He holds it out to me, telling me gravely, “You’ll wear this again, always.”
My eyes widen in surprise at what his opening hand is revealing. It’s my collar, the one he’d taken off and discarded the day he’d taken me to the harem. I lean forward, allowing him to fasten it around my neck. As his warm hands click the padlock closed, I stutter out, “How… I… I thought it was lost?”
He lifts my chin, taking a second to admire the chain on me. Then his eyes seem shuttered with pain.
“I couldn’t stand to leave it there, Cara. I went back to get it. I’ve carried it with me ever since, though every time I saw it, touched it, it caused another crack in my heart. Deep down, I’ve always hoped this day would come.”
I kneel up, moving and clasping him tight to me, my head resting on his chest, having to stifle a sob at the thought of all the hurt we’ve both suffered, and all as a result of accusations of crimes we didn’t commit. I’m not naïve enough to think our road ahead will always be smooth, but I believe we’re now strong enough to cope with any bumps we might come across.
I’m just opening my mouth to express my thoughts when suddenly his phone rings, shattering the emotion filled moment. Cursing, he rifles through his jeans again, trying to locate the right pocket. He scowls as he recognises the caller’s ID.
“Jas, not a good time, brother.” But apparently Jasim hasn’t been put off. Nijad continues to listen, his side of the conversation mainly grunts of agreement. When he ends the call, he holds out his hand to me and yanks me off the bed as I grasp it.
“Come, Sheikha.” He interrupts himself by gently kissing my lips. Then, framing my face between his palms, he continues, “The emir is waiting. Apparently we’ve got a wedding to plan.”
Chapter 30
Nijad
Now I have to suffer and sit through the most tedious meeting with the emir that I’ve ever had in all my life. Tedious because all I want to do is whisk Cara off to the nearest bed somewhere and fuck the last few weeks or, more to the point, the last three years, out of my system. The emir wants to arrange a full state wedding to show the world that his youngest son has been welcomed back into the family fold, his reputation proven to be untarnished. As I sit restlessly in my seat, my leg bouncing in impatient anticipation, I try to listen to the plans and ideas he’s putting forward, and keep casting incredulous glances towards my wife. It’s still hard to believe the incredible faith she had in me. Out of everyone I know, only she believed in me, her conviction sufficient to prove my innocence. Fuck, and she’s carrying my child! Could she be any more perfect? I reach out my hand to take hers, squeezing it tight, wanting to hang on to her, unable to shed the dread that she might disappear any minute. Pure happiness rolls over me, begging the question: have I ever felt truly happy before? In my fuck-’em-and-leave-’em playboy life, was I ever really content? Or was I just waiting to find this one woman, the woman forced to marry me? Three lost years of my life? Or was it three years waiting for Cara? I’d do that penance all over again if it were to achieve the same result.
She turns and smiles at me. I can’t look away, trapped by the view of her beautiful face still flushed from our lovemaking, her blatantly swollen and ravished lips, steadfastly being ignored by my father.
At last realising his audience is not fully attentive, the emir finally wraps up the meeting. Taking a hasty leave of my father, I waste no time in whisking Cara out to the small four-seater helicopter, the R44, which I prefer. As I throw her inside, she giggles as I fasten her harness, and I find myself laughing with her, for absolutely no reason at all. I gaze over at her like a schoolboy with a crush, and she just smiles that winning smile back.
“I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe what a fucking arse I was to send you away.” Now, I don’t know how I had the strength to do it.
She shakes her head; her luscious brown hair, left loose, swings with the motion.
“You did what you thought was best. If you hadn’t, we’d never have found out the truth. We’d have always had that hanging over us.”
Knowing she speaks the truth, I have to tear my eyes away from my wonderful woman
to start the pre-flight checks, and get into the air as fast as I can. It’s a two-hour flight. One hundred and twenty fucking minutes too long! But I didn’t want to spend any more time in Al Qur’ah. I wanted to get my wife home, to our home. I try to force my mind away from my cock, already hardening in anticipation of what’s to come. I’ve got precious cargo with me today; I need to focus on flying. I think we’re both in the same state of disbelief about how our circumstances have changed so much in just a few hours. We talk a little, but avoid rehashing the past. It’s time to look forward now. I think we’re both lost in our thoughts and eagerness to arrive at the palace in Z̧almā’. My mind’s already playing around with ideas for scenes in the dungeon tonight.
But when we arrive at the desert palace it seems my staff are going to derail my plans. As I start the descent, I can already see the landing pad is surrounded by well-wishers, all cheering or clapping, glad to see their sheikh, now cleared of all wrongdoing, and their sheikha, whose actions have brought them such wealth. As I switch off the engine, I see Rais waiting for us with a huge smile on his face. As soon as I get out and help Cara down, he’s there beside us, his enormous arms going around me to hug me, slapping my back with his massive hands. I swear I can see tears as he steps away, keeping his eyes on mine.
“Nijad, Sheikh. It is a good day.” I clasp his hand and nod with respect and gratitude. “We have a celebration planned,” he turns to Cara, bowing deeply, “To welcome you both home. And to thank the sheikha for everything she’s accomplished on behalf of Amahad.”
I swear under my breath, and throw a rueful glance at my wife. She laughs, and then shrugs and grins back. An early trip to the dungeon is not on the cards, it would seem.
With Rais’s arm across my shoulder, I reach out and, taking the hand of my beautiful wife, we make our way into the palace where my staff have put together an impressive banquet and assembled all the tribal leaders, with only one notable, but not unexpected, exception. After their efforts it would be rude to leave, and we enjoy the celebrations late into the evening before the moment comes when, at last, we can escape having been treated to native dances and displays of fire-eating as well as mock fights between the tribal champions. By the time we reach the royal suite I’m too tired to do anything but make gentle, vanilla love to my wife before we both fall asleep, mentally and physically exhausted after the long day.
Stolen Lives (Blood Brothers Book 1) Page 35