The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 4 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 4)

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The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 4 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 4) Page 2

by Jessica Brooke


  Omar boldly opened the hutch and a small swarm of bees flew at his chest. He spread his arms and closed his eyes and in shock I watched as they began to land on his arms and settle around his shoulders. Some stacked up the back of his neck, and soon part of his face and head were covered. He remained calm, though, and within about ten minutes, the bees left him in favor of their hive. He reached in after them and produced a small portion of honeycomb, then closed the hutch back up, securing it with the provided latch.

  He came to me and without words offered me the honey from his dripping hand. I licked his fingers, and the instant the nectar hit, I moaned. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted and unlike anything else I’d ever put to my tongue. I moaned and sucked harder on his fingers. He went to his knees in the sand and put his lips to mine, delving his tongue into my mouth and tasting what I tasted. I took more from his hand, and he repeated the tongue dancing transfer of succulent honey.

  I moaned and he groaned, and we bathed in the sticky stuff as it spread out over both our faces. I licked him and he licked me, and we spent forever cleaning the other with our tongues. He chuckled and his eyes took on a faraway expression, “I am going to bring some home tonight. I shall coat you with this and then lick it off.”

  I was already breathless from the kissing, and all I could say was a throaty, “Okay.” This made him chuckle and kiss me again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My official wedding day arrived, and I woke up before the sun. My stomach was in knots so I didn’t even have coffee. I woke up alone. After Omar made the sweetest love to me—literally sweet from the honey he first slathered and then licked off—he left as per tradition that he not see the bride-to-be on her wedding morning. I didn’t quite understand his obedience to that one law, when in all honesty I should have still been a virgin and tonight should have been the first time we shared a bed.

  Yasmin talked to me and helped distract all my wandering and nervous thoughts. She took her time with my hair and after almost two hours of her fussing over it, I indeed looked like a queen of a nation. The braids danced over and around my head and tendrils of curls framed my face. It was truly a masterpiece, as if she’d constructed a crown from my auburn locks. Then she added the diamond tiara, and I sat and gaped at my reflection.

  “Is this really happening?” I muttered.

  “Yes, Mistress, this is not an imagined fairy tale. You are marrying one of the most powerful, wealthy and influential men in the entire world.” My chin quivered, and tears welled in my eyes. Yasmin handed me a soft hanky and knelt at my knees, “Do not fear, Anna, he loves you and that is all that matters.” I dabbed at my cheeks, and she gave me a wry smile, “That is why I’ve delayed putting on your eye makeup. Now you must promise no tears after I’ve done your lashes.”

  I made a strangled gulping noise as I sniffed through a few more sobs, and then I gave her a nod as she patted my leg and stood to gather the dress. First she cinched me into a corset that sucked my waist down to a small V and made my boobs lift up to what felt like my chin. She grumbled as she did the laces and continued to tighten it. I told her I couldn’t breathe, and she said I wouldn’t fit in the dress if she didn’t get it at least as tight as she had last time.

  I was still struggling with the breathing thing when she asked that I step into the dress. This too had laces up the back and was strapless with a low, plunging neck so my cleavage was front and center. Even before she tightened it down, my décolletage jiggled and wiggled with each breath I took. She said something about me eating too much and made sounds of exertion as she continued to tighten the laces.

  “Did you gain weight in just your bosom?” she finally asked. Coming around the front and checking to make sure both girls were tucked in.

  “Can that happen?” I asked in confusion. “I mean, I have been eating more than normal, but you know that Omar likes a little meat on my bones, and when I was at school I lost like twenty pounds.”

  “I suppose you could gain weight here, but the rest of you seems the same to me. Well, correction, it is tighter across your tummy, too.”

  I shrugged, still only concerned with trying to breathe in the much too tight ensemble. She finally secured the last lace and stepped back to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. She smiled at me in admiration and turned me towards the mirror. Even though I’d seen myself in this exact dress just a few days prior, I felt as if I were looking at someone else. It couldn’t be me, could it? With my hair up and the dramatic eye makeup, I truly looked like something out of a movie, and I totally forgot about how uncomfortable the corset was and even the need for air.

  “No crying, Anna!” Yasmin ordered.

  I nodded and bit my lower lip. “Trying, really trying.”

  What I loved the most about this particular ensemble were the millions of seed pearls that had been painstakingly sewn over the entire bodice and then trailed down in delicate strands over the long flowing skirt and train. It was a heavy gown and weighed close to twenty pounds, all told. I would have help with it initially, but when I went to Omar, I would be on my own.

  She turned me away from the mirror and sat me back at the vanity table, turning me from that mirror as well, and she helped me get on the pumps that matched this dress. The heels had been made custom to match the dress, not that they showed, but they were stunning. Also white leather with seed pearls interspersed with small diamond beads sewn across the toes and down the four inch stilettoes. I’d been practicing wearing high heels more often and was now much more accomplished at not only walking in them, but looking good in them.

  Yasmin did some finishing touches to my makeup and lipstick and then called in another girl to help me navigate down to the hall. We were right on time having pre-run how long it would take to get from one end of the palace to the other, since the actual ceremony was taking place on one of the expansive verandas under a canopy of wisteria. Omar had consulted with me on the actual location, and I’d said it was worth the effort to do it in that particular rooftop garden.

  Since it was just Omar’s immediate family and relatives from this region, it was a relatively small gathering. I think he told me about thirty or forty all together, which was fine with me. Our plan to have an official weeklong party and another ceremony for my friends and family was going to be the real shindig and was going to take place in another six weeks. Two weeks for the honeymoon, then a month to prepare the island for the horde arriving from America. Of course, Omar was going to invite other acquaintances and friends, such as Amir Rashid and his entourage, so that week we expected to entertain well over a hundred or maybe more.

  But today was just us and his family. My only problem was that I wished for my dad to walk me down the aisle both times. This time, however, I would be alone and that kind of bothered me. At least I thought it did, until I rounded the corner and a hush fell over the attendees. Omar was already standing up by the stage and when our eyes locked, I felt as if I’d been jolted with electricity. My veil was down, and I was covered entirely by a cloak, as per protocol that only he could uncover me. But even though I was covered, when his eyes locked on mine, it felt as if he’d ripped off every article of clothing and undergarments and I was standing there, bared to all, naked as the day I was born.

  He was dressed as a traditional sheikh this time, and even though I’d seen him in white robes and headdress, I’d never seen him in the finery he was now decorated in. His headdress was almost like a crown, but more like ropes of gold that encircled his head. The white linen of his robes seemed the finest fabric available on the planet. As I drew closer, I saw the seed pearls that had been sewn into masculine patterns across the chest and down the arms of his robes.

  His amber eyes looked as if he had an inferno boiling inside his head, and he could not take his eyes off of mine. I don’t remember walking down the long aisle, or even taking a breath for hours. I don’t remember much of the ceremony, either. All I remember are Omar’s eyes and t
he way his love for me seemed to transcend time and space and magically inhabit my body. It was as if we were one soul, and when I knelt at his feet and waited for him to uncover me, I began crying.

  Sorry, Yasmin, I said inside my head, but it didn’t matter because there was no stopping the flow. I felt too much for this man, and he obviously was in the same boat. Even his eyes brimmed with a mysterious, sparkling substance. When he uncovered first my shoulders and then lifted my veil, his hands trembled. When he helped me stand and pushed the cloak to the floor to reveal all my alabaster skin, the gathered family rippled with sounds of admiration.

  When I looked up and into my new husband’s eyes, and I spoke the words that would bind me to him for eternity, I spoke them in his language. That was when he lost the battle and his cheeks grew damp. Both of us cried our way through the remainder of the ceremony. Finally he kissed me and held me to his chest much longer than I think was proper. He whispered at my mouth, “You are mine, Anna, and I will cherish you with every last drop of blood in my body.”

  I whispered in return, “Omar, I am yours, you are my master and my lover, and I will vow to love you till my last breath.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  We stayed for only a few hours after the ceremony and enjoyed the lavish party that followed. There was entertainment in the form of belly dancers and live music and everyone drank liberally. His brothers took turns dancing with me, and each in turn told me how jealous they were of their older brother. Alath did show up, but remained silent behind her veil and never really joined in on the festivities. I wasn’t certain if it was simply the veil that covered most of her face, or just the fact she was glaring at me, but she made me uncomfortable. I hid those feelings and ignored her the best I could. It seemed as if everyone else, including Omar, were doing that as well.

  I was well on my way to intoxication by the time Omar picked me up and carried me to our suite. Earlier, I’d changed from the white wedding gown into a stunning silk sheath dress in ruby red. At least this one was more comfortable, although I still had on the corset, so drinking was my only available outlet. I had tried to eat, but the tightness of the waist made that particular task difficult, so I sat and drank instead.

  “Are you okay carrying me?” I asked as we left the hall.

  “I am fine, my love. Now that you are back, I hardly notice my injuries. Did you not notice the absence of the cane? I don’t believe I will need it any longer.” I giggled and kissed his cheek as I clung to him. “May I tell you that you are the loveliest bride on the planet? No, the entire universe!”

  “And you, Mr. Khalid, are the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen. I like you in your native attire. You look like the King you were born to be.”

  “Ahhh, yes, Mrs. Khalid, indeed, and you look the part of my queen.”

  I squealed when he tossed me on the bed and grabbed my ankles to remove the red patent leather heels. His big hand wrapped all the way around my ankle, and he held me securely, making sounds of great appreciation as he fondled my stocking-covered legs and feet.

  “Where are you taking us on the honeymoon?” I asked for the millionth time.

  He furrowed his brow in displeasure. “I’ve told you it is a surprise. You shall not ask me again.”

  “Or what? Will you punish me if I am disobedient?” I taunted.

  His lips quivered as he attempted to hide a grin at the thought of disciplining me. “Perhaps I shall.” I waggled my brows and pouted. “Actually, I am tempted to take you right this second, to leave you sore and aching for the flight.”

  I bit my lower lip and batted my lashes, “Well, it is tradition to make love the entire honeymoon.” I looked off in the distance, making my voice as airy as possible, like I was a dumb blonde, “When does the honeymoon officially start, anyway?”

  “I am the King! I decree it begins now, and I want to be inside my bride!” he bellowed as he planked up and over me.

  My chest heaved as he pushed his groin against mine and lowered his lips to kiss me. “Oh Omar, you are amazing,” I breathed.

  “I will take my female now, my way, I will dominate you properly, Anna.”

  “Can you? Your knee?”

  He grunted, “I am healed! You have removed my pain, and I will not wait.”

  I giggled and struggled to spread my legs because of the tight skirt. I grumbled, “Get this dress off me!”

  He chuckled, “I’ve always loved your enthusiasm, my bride.” Omar then proceeded to help me strip down to just the garter and corset and when he saw how tight it actually was, he grimaced. “How can you stand this? How can you breathe?”

  My tone was all too ironic, “I can’t. Not one little bit. That’s why I couldn’t eat anything.”

  He kissed the tops of each breast and then cupped them from the sides to make them jiggle and ripple, “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable, but I must say your breasts are lovelier than any I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He hovered over me and spent forever getting lost in my lovely breasts, but then he turned me and took his time undoing the laces.

  Once I was finally free from the torture device, I sighed and rubbed at my sternum and under my breasts. Then I noticed he was into the show, so I made more of it until I was finally rubbing my own nipples and gripping at the end of each tit—making sounds of delight both in how it felt and the reaction I was seeing in my husband’s body.

  I continued the display for him as he stood and stripped naked. Even before he’d pulled the robes all the way off his body, I could see where his long hard shaft was tenting it in the front. My body prepared itself immediately for his entry, and I whispered to him, “My body is ready for you, husband.”

  He stood there, naked and jutting, and my mouth watered. He made a motion with his eyes, and I spread my legs farther apart and breathily said, “I’m so wet for you, Omar.”

  He gritted his teeth and his gaze turned ravenous, “I love it when those words leave your mouth. I also wish to ruin your exterior, to mess you up and…”

  “You want to defile me, don’t you?” I chided.

  “I do, I wish to wreck you and leave you so useless you must be carried.” Then he grabbed both my ankles and jerked me to the edge of the bed and gutturally said, “Female! Brace yourself. I’m taking what is mine.”

  I did as he commanded and spread my legs even farther apart. He stalked up between my thighs and pressed them apart with both hands. Then he cupped my bottom and lifted me up so that he could see all of my pinkest flesh. His cheek twitched, and he gritted his teeth. His eyes traveled up my body until they locked on mine, and he mouthed one word: MINE.

  I threw my head back and groaned as his hand swept up along my entrance. He made that sound, and I felt it as my center puddled for my husband’s entrance. He didn’t waste any time and held me tightly at the edge of the tall bed, sliding his granite-hard shaft all the way to his balls in his first thrust. We both gasped from the abruptness and from the tight fit. My body was yet to melt and reshape itself to his size and as we both caught our breath, he took one long stroke in and out of me.

  He said a string of words in Arabic, and all I understood was something about Allah and heaven. And then he took me as if it had been years and not just a day. His hands dug into my butt, and he thrust and pounded his way up into the very center of me. I grew slicker and hotter, and within minutes I was whining and gripping at his arms.

  I whimpered and cried out, “Omar, oh God, Omar—please—please let me—tell me…”

  “You wait, Anna, you hold it.” He grunted as the sounds of our colliding bodies echoed in the large room.

  Then he slowed and the cauldron inside my belly slackened to a simmer. I took a breath and opened my eyes. He was so hard that he could slide almost to his crown and then bodily pull me back over his length. Over and over, in painful, slow succession he stroked in and out of my soaked sheath. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he snaked one hand up to my neck and pulled my body up to meet his, and he kissed
me with the white hot passion of ten men.

  “Hold on,” he commanded, and I obeyed as he resumed holding me from my butt, still buried in my core. His heart thudded against the walls of my insides, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts to his chest, I felt his pulse everywhere—in me, around me, against me. I lost track of my own heartbeat and could only feel his.

  He turned and sat on the bed, and I undulated over him, rolling my hips and my pelvis so that I could slide myself over his shaft, again and again. My wetness soaking out and down over his groin. His hands found my upper back, and he bucked his hips, shoving his need even farther up into my body. I cried out when I began a slow roll that made my clit rub against the hairs of his groin, and then I whined and pleaded with him again. Begging for release.

  He bit my neck and stood, but I felt him shake and within the work of a moment, he’d turned us and pushed me back up onto the bed, taking me farther up towards the headboard—scooting my body with each thrusting prod. He was on his knees, and he did as he’d promised. His large body pressing over mine and his right hand holding both of my wrists in a tight grip above my head. He took up a furious humping with his hips, and soon he was madly pumping himself as deeply into me as he could.

  His enormous length pillaged my insides, shoving away any interruptions it encountered, and he took me with an almost violent need. “Anna, release for me!” he commanded, and I wailed as I gave up the thin veil of control I’d been clinging to. When he began saying, “Mine!” over and over, I let it go with the same intensity he’d been transmitting into me.

  I keened and struggled under his weight and his tight grip, but he only pinned me harder and held my wrists harder and entered me even harder. My body closed around his, squeezing his shaft and milking him as he released deeply inside me. He made an anguished sound when he came and his entire form shook. His seed shot up into me, and it only brought me to another mind numbing series of multiple orgasms.

 

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