One Night with The Sheikh: An accident of fate brought them together, and it would bind them for the rest of their lives.

by Clare Connelly

A minute later, she could almost have regretted her willingness to go along with his sexual education, as her whole body felt swollen and over-heated with the flicking flames of urgent, rapacious lust.

  As his lips flicked and rolled and tasted and turned one nipple, her other was subjected to the thorough exploration of his fingers. He rubbed and pulled and pinched as though she were a musical instrument and he the only man in the world qualified to play her. She arched her back as sensations built steadily and strongly in the pit of her stomach. She was incoherent as waves of desire crushed down upon her.

  “I need to see you,” she screamed, but he pulled her hands down, away from her shirt.

  “Do I need to tie you up, too, Grace?” He murmured, and she was ashamed of the way her body responded to that idea. She was discovering a lot about herself that night, and it was all down to this man’s tutelage.

  She didn’t answer. There was no need to. She pulled her hands away from the shirt and let them rest on the bed, above her head.

  “Good.” Sam nodded, feeling the tip of his arousal tingle with a need to be satiated. A need that only Grace could satiate in that minute. “Very good. I think you’re ready for this.”

  And, then, somehow, he increased his intensity, working both breasts to the point where Grace thought she was going to die from pleasure. And then, out of nowhere, the dam of need burst, and she was crying out in delight as her body rode the wave of orgasm. It was more exquisite than anything she’d ever felt before.

  Sam lifted himself up, his own breath labored as he watched her naked breasts rise and fall with the exertion that only true pleasure could bring. His stubble had left her flawless skin marked and he was glad. Glad that he had left something of himself on the woman he knew he would never see again. The woman he would own that night, and that night only.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You are beautiful. And beautifully responsive,” he said approvingly, as he finally lifted her shirt off her head and marveled at her sex-flushed face.

  “And you are very, very talented,” she said with a self-deprecating grin. It faded as with awe, she lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “I never knew it could feel like that.”

  “That,” he said, angling his head to pull her thumb into his mouth, “was just the beginning.”

  “I can’t imagine it getting better than that.”

  “A challenge I am very willing to accept,” he said, winking down at her. “But we must dispose of these, first.” He tugged at her tracksuit pants, lowering them from her hip bones, and easing them down her long legs. Legs he’d wanted to see naked from the minute she’d emerged from the car. Her whole body was fragranced with soap. Something like coconut, or vanilla, it was sweet and spicy at the same time.

  He brought his lips down to her neck, tasting the pulse point there.

  Grace put her hands on his chest, though already she could feel her body seeking another release. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  “I don’t need to be naked yet,” he said with a groan. For without clothes, he knew he would sink into her and he wanted to savor this moment in every way.

  “I want you naked,” she said honestly.

  Sam pulled away from her and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, keeping her pinned with his eyes. “How about a compromise?” He suggested as he slipped his arms from the shirt and tossed it carelessly into the corner of her room. It hit the wall and sunk to the carpeted floor, crumpled and still warm from his body.

  “It will do. For now,” she agreed breathlessly. “Sam, how the heck did you get a body like that, working in an office job?”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off his ripped chest. Muscles after muscle bumped from beneath the skin, taught and strong.

  He didn’t answer. There was no need. He wasn’t going to see Grace again. She didn’t need to know about his daily ten mile runs or martial arts work outs. As he brought his body into contact with hers, he couldn’t help but think what a shame it was. Grace was the kind of woman he could well have fallen in love with. If he believed in love.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast and kissed it with devotion, then let his tongue glide lower. Down her smooth stomach. Her skin bunched and tensed as he passed over it and he felt her take in a deep, fortifying breath. She knew what was coming next, and he knew she was excited. At the apex of her legs, her most sensitive core, he pressed his lips firmly, delighting in everything about her. Her scent, her feel, her smooth softness. Then, he let his tongue press deeper, and watched as her body bucked in pleasure. Yes, she was ready for him. As his lips moved over the soft entrance to her womanhood, he hooked a finger inside her, tentatively at first, and then he plunged it hungrily deeper, thrusting it forward and wishing, feeling, that it was him instead.

  Her breath was bursting from her body; her voice was just a high pitched drone as she climbed those heights again, her whole body was beaded in a fine film of moisture.

  “Yes, Grace, let your body feel as it wants to,” he urged quietly.

  Then, she surprised him. Something he had never experienced in the art of making love, which he unashamedly sought to control. She caught his free hand in hers and brought it to her mouth, and as he thrust his finger inside of her, she took another finger into her mouth and sucked it deep, so deep he could feel the velvet smoothness at the back of her throat. His arousal jerked, imagining itself to be the recipient of her attention, and it took all of his willpower to hold onto his own need for release.

  With his finger inside the plum of her mouth, she came, pulling her knees to her chest to deepen the experience.

  Sam waited until her breathing had returned to closer to normal before pulling his finger from her warm core and straddling her instead. “Grace, you are sensational,” he said frankly. “I want to have sex with you.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?” She asked wryly, and her lack of coyness pleased him.

  “I mean sex. I want you to be sure… you’ve experienced something traumatic tonight.”

  “Something you’ve very successfully removed completely from my mind,” she answered honestly. “I want to feel you inside me. All of you.”

  His relief was tangible. There had been a part of him that was still worried it would not come to pass. What he wanted most with all his body now was to submerge himself completely in her delicate frame. To lose himself in the coming together of their bodies.

  He pressed his tongue to her stomach and tasted her salty sweat. It only made him want her more and impatient now, he stood and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from the waistband of his pants and ran it between his fingers, his eyes locked to hers. “Another time, Grace, I should like to tie you up. I think you would be a very willing captive…”

  He kicked his pants off and, with his belt still in his hands, climbed onto the bed. His body, completely naked, was aching to feel hers, but he held himself aloft, separated by the cold night air from the physical contact he craved.

  To prove a point, and show her the depth of what he wanted to do with her, he raised his hand and captured her slender wrists in his palm. Then, he pressed them firmly into the mattress with one hand, and with his other, he ran the belt along her naked side, starting at her hip, then along her stomach, and up to her breasts. “Would you like to be my prisoner, Grace?”

  Her blue eyes were wide. She was way out of her league. She’d only had sex with one guy before, and that had been a very long time ago, and very, very white bread. She hadn’t known you could orgasm just by being stimulated at the breasts. She’d never experienced oral sex. She was a novice. And yet, this man, this night, God, she wanted him to do things to her.

  She nodded, and completely surprised herself with the admission. And him, too, she thought, going by the way his eyes flickered shut at her honesty.

  “The thought of tying you to this bed and keeping you captive is something I will never forget.” But he couldn’t do it to her. He couldn’t. She was too innocent and sweet. And he was so
big and firm. And then, because he was only human and she was almost too tantalizing to be real, he nudged his tip closer to her core, thrilling as skin met skin. His body rejoiced in knowing that release was within sight.

  “I want you to do it.” She said forcefully, her words hissed between her teeth.

  “Do what?” He queried silkily.

  Grace had never lacked confidence, and she forced herself to ignore the immobilizing earthquake of desire that was rocking through her own fault lines now. She shrugged, in what she hoped was an imitation of care-free sexuality. “I’ve never been tied up before. I trust you. Why not?”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Come on, Sam. It’s just a bit of fun. It’s not like I’m asking for some full on S&M sex act, right?”

  He hadn’t thought he could want her any more, but this total display of trust and desire was his undoing. He growled as, less gently than he’d intended, he pulled at her wrists, so that they bucked against the wrought iron bed head.

  “You do have the perfect equipment for it,” he said thoughtfully. “But it’s a little too easy when you’re offering yourself to me on a platter like this,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “What do you mean?” She queried uncertainly.

  “I want to feel you writhe beneath me, while I tie you in knots,” he whispered.

  His meaning wasn’t clear to her, and she opened her mouth to question him, but at that moment, he plunged his entire length inside of her, and she arched her back in heavenly, earth shattering pleasure. “Saa-aaam,” she called out, lifting her hands and bringing them to his chest. She dug her nails in as he moved inside of her, and every single one of her nerve endings shivered and vibrated in passionate response to his heavenly invasion.

  He caught her wrists roughly in the palms of his hands, and without breaking his rhythm, he pushed her hands back to the bed head. As he moved inside of her, he looped his leather belt around her wrists, in and out he moved, and in and out he looped the leather, finally clasping it in place and pulling it tight through the iron, so that her hands and arms were completely immovable.

  “Now, Grace, you learn what true pleasure is about.” He promised sensually. And as he plunged into her core, she was already so close to completion, than when he brought his finger to massage the entrance to her body, she exploded in a white hot pool of feeling.

  He barely gave her a minute to regain her breath before he began to torture her again with the most exquisite sensations she’d ever felt. In fact, more exquisite than she had even known existed. He thrust into her and as wave after wave of pleasure built, she almost thought she would pass out from the strength of her desire.

  “Grace, turn over,” he ground out, pulling himself from her body and digging his fingers into her buttocks.

  “I can’t,” she husked between ragged breaths. “I’m tied up.”

  “Not so tightly you can’t roll over,” he said. “Do it.”

  And a shiver of awareness ran her spine, as for the first time, it occurred to her that this man had a steel quality about him she hadn’t at first appreciated.

  But, his body had also commanded hers to a fever pitch of sexual desire; one that could never be equaled, she was sure, and she was anxious for more. Obediently, she awkwardly maneuvered her body so that she was on her knees. “I can’t lie down,” she said honestly, pulling at her wrists which were surprisingly firm.

  “Good,” he responded and before she caught her breath, he thrust into her again, kneading her butt cheeks in time to his movements. Her muscles were clenching around his length, and he transferred his hands to her breasts, massaging them less tenderly than earlier, so that her whole body was raw with sensation.

  Finally, when she came, she screamed the house down, and her whole body shook from the overpowering sensations that flooded through her. It was too much for him to resist. He finally allowed his body what it wanted most. He poured himself into her, his body tense from the complete breakdown of his usual control.

  God, what had he done? He didn’t know this woman from Adam. Or Amanda. But there had been such a connection between them that he had shown her more of himself than he’d shown anyone before. He hadn’t even used protection, he realized with horror.

  With his tanned fingers, he loosened the belt and tossed it aside, gently running a hand down her back as she kept completely still. With her knees pressed into the bed, and her head rested on the pillow, she was tantalizingly perfect.

  “Are you okay, Grace?”

  She lifted her flushed face then, and scanned his expression with her blue eyes. “Am I okay? Are you kidding me? That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.” She smiled, and it was such a genuine and disarming smile that he felt something unfamiliar compress his chest.

  “For me too,” he answered honestly.

  Grace felt a strange sense of victory at his admittance. After all, she was a relative beginner in the sex stakes, and he certainly was not. She pushed the curtain of blonde hair away from her neck.

  “Your hair,” he said in wonder, “is magic.”

  Grace let out a small laugh as she flipped on to her back and lay against the soft pillows of her bed, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom.

  “I was going to get it cut yesterday,” she said, simply because suddenly, she didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that she was awkward. How could she be after what they’d just shared? It was just that her heart, emotions and body were all over the place. She wanted more of him. She wanted more of him forever and eternity, and yet she hardly knew him.

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said honestly, running his fingers through its silky length.

  She raised her eyes to his, and any nervousness immediately disappeared when she saw the sweetly disarming expression in his face. “You don’t regret what just happened,” she surmised.

  “No.” He shrugged. “I knew I wanted you from the moment you crashed into me.”

  She punched him playfully on the chest. “I was avoiding a dog.”

  “And if I could find that dog, I’d buy him a year’s worth of puppy treats,” he said honestly, running his fingers along her arm, and taking her hand in his.

  “You and me both.” She said with a smile.

  She was a strange mix of confidence and uncertainty. Both beautiful yet shy, and he found her contradictions unendingly fascinating.

  Their bodies did not take long to rediscover a need and almost as soon as they’d separated, they were together once more, rolling as one over the cliff-face of sexual oblivion.

  Finally, hours later, when Grace had fallen into a satisfied sleep, Samir had tired of staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. His body was jelly-like with the total satisfaction he’d experienced, but his mind was an unstoppable force. He always had a thousand things on his to-do list, but suddenly, all he could think of was Grace. Grace, whom he had just met, and suddenly did not want to leave.

  It was illogical and stupid, and a romantic notion not worthy of him, but there it was. She was a woman men would start wars for. A woman kings would desert their crowns for. And there in lay the problem. For Samir, after one night in Grace’s bed, would have given up his right to rule Elaminar if he had thought it would buy him a future with this woman.

  A terrible and terrifying thought that he refused to indulge.

  So, he did the only thing he could. He got out of bed and silently dressed, thinking the coffee they’d never got around to the night before would help him clear the sensual cobwebs from his brain. When the sun came up, he would explain everything to her. Who he really was and why their one night together had to remain at just that. One night.

  Ignoring the weird rolling in his gut, he quietly pulled the door shut behind himself and moved to the kitchen. It was then, as he waited for the kettle to boil, that he remembered his mobile phone. Out of habit, he reached for it and pressed the ‘on’ switch. Immediately, it began to buzz and vibrate. He switched it to
silent with a glance over his shoulder. He didn’t want to disturb Grace. After the night they’d had, she would definitely be in need of some sleep.

  With a slow yawn, he lifted his phone and began to scroll through his messages. All thoughts of Grace and their night together evaporated. Just about the only thing that could have pushed her from his mind had happened.

  His father, the King of Elaminar, had died. And he, Samir, was now King.

  Telling himself he would be back; that he would make it up to Grace at a later date, he stormed out of her apartment without a backwards glance. His country needed him, and he answered the call to duty as he had always known he must.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “You have ruled Elaminar for two years, Samir,” Kaliq, his oldest friend and most trusted advisor said earnestly. “You’ve single handedly put down a challenge to the throne. You’ve seen a rise in both the economy and employment levels. Your people love you as they should an exalted leader.” He paused, balling his courage together. Though he had played with Samir as an infant, he still found the other man, at times, impossibly intimidating. Yet, if he didn’t speak frankly to him, no one would. “You know it is time.”

  Sam’s attention didn’t stray from the window. Beyond the heavy glass panes, he watched the sun in its slow descent over the ocean. He watched as the peach colored rays landed on the mountains that skirted the Harid Valley, their snow capped tops turned from white to gold in the warmth of dusk.

  “Time for what?” He said, feigning ignorance.

  Kal let out a frustrated sigh. “For you to marry. You are thirty six years old now. Your father, may he rest in peace, left us two years ago. The period of mourning has gone on long enough. Now, allow life to resume. Give your people something joyous to celebrate. A royal wedding. A baby.”

  Sam expelled a long, slow breath. His stomach flipped with emotions he couldn’t compute. Hesitation, chief amongst them. “But who?” He asked finally, because Kal seemed to expect an answer.

  “Could there be any doubt? Surely it must be Irena. You know it. She knows it. The kingdom expects it.”