by Sophia Lynn
Mutely, she raised her arms, and he came down to rest by her side, one arm over her waist, his face nuzzling against the soft skin of her throat. He was so large, so strong, but instead of feeling threatened by his size and his strength, she only felt the heat course through her body even more powerfully.
They kissed for a long time, until her mouth felt sensitive and perhaps a little swollen, but she still uttered a soft sound of protest as he moved to her throat and then her shoulder.
“Tell me if I do anything you do not like,” he said quietly. “All you ever have to do is tell me. But … right now, I think you like all of this, don't you?”
“Yes,” she murmured, because she did. It felt as if her skin were heating up, as if there was something in her that would not be satisfied until she had Kashif as close to her as he could possibly get.
He tugged at the high collar of her tunic, pulling it down just far enough so he could lap at the skin there.
“I want this off of you,” he said, and she could hear the command there too, the sheikh who got his way. What a good thing it was that that was exactly what she wanted as well.
Her fingers rose up trembling to the tiny buttons that ran down the front of the tunic. It seemed as if it had taken a thousand years for her to do them up first thing that morning, but right now, they seemed to fall apart as if at nothing more than a touch.
Lying next to her, Kashif stroked her face and kissed her neck, and all the while, she could feel the coiled anticipation in him, the need for her and the hunger. He stayed still until the tunic was unbuttoned all the way, and when she sat up to shrug it off, he surprised her by pulling it off entirely along with her shift and then reaching for the buttons of her trousers. He pulled them off along with her embroidered slippers and stockings, and then she was left in her pale peach underwear.
Any thought she might have had that Kashif was only vaguely interested in what they were doing was eradicated at the look he gave her.
“Beautiful woman, most beautiful I have ever seen,” he murmured, and then he pushed her onto her back, his mouth hot on her throat, his hands moving so that it felt as if they were everywhere.
Honey didn't think she had ever been so much in her own skin, so very turned on and needy. She wanted him naked as well, but she thought that she might die if he stopped. She whimpered as he lifted her breasts out of the cups of her bra, nuzzling first one and then the other. He had been freshly shaved that morning, but now she could feel the bristle of a five o'clock shadow on his face, the slightly rough sensation making her moan.
Carefully, tenderly, he took one erect peak between his lips, suckling until she shifted longingly underneath him, and then he moved on to repeat the treatment, murmuring his satisfaction. She sighed in slight disappointment as he moved down her belly, but then he was tugging her panties down. She expected him to take them off all the way, but he left them just above her knees before reaching back up to cup the warm flesh between her legs.
“I like you all undone for me,” he murmured. “I like how you look like a present still almost in her wrapping. So beautiful, so sweet and so much for me.”
She whimpered, and then her whimper turned until a full moan as he massaged her between the legs, his hand large and warm and strong against her. The sensation stoked the pleasure in her higher and higher until her hips were bucking up against him, her hands fisting in the sheets.
“You feel so very good here,” Kashif murmured. “Look at how warm and wet you are...”
Honey uttered a soft and longing sigh as his fingertips traced her lips, barely any pressure at all. He did it over and over again until she was whimpering with need and then he pressed two fingers inside her, opening her with a gentleness that barely felt real.
“There you are, darling,” he murmured. “That's lovely. That's exactly what I want, I want you so hot and ready for me...”
She started to answer, but then his fingers moved up to her clit, and all of the sensation that he had given her rose up higher and hotter than she thought possible. Her hands came up to cover his, and she looked up at him with need flaming through her body.
“Yes?” he asked, and somehow, despite everything that was thundering through her, despite how she was ready to sob with need, she smiled at him, drawing a nearly awed smile back from him in turn.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh yes. More. Please. Give me more, I need you so very much.”
It wasn't the most clear thing she could have said just then, but somehow, he seemed to understand what it was she was trying to communicate. His hand flexed against her flesh one more time, longing and sweet and perfect, and then he pulled away with a softly muttered curse.
As she watched, he tore at his clothes, stripping his elegant black tunic off to fling it on the floor and pausing only to undo his trousers before coming to take his place between her legs. When Honey saw his member rising up, it made her catch her breath at his size and girth. She must have looked a little nervous, because he smiled at her, his fierce and intent expression softening just a little as he reached up to brush the hair back from her face.
“I told you I wouldn't hurt you,” he murmured. “I meant that. I never will.”
She wanted to tell him that she believed him, that she knew, but then he was coming to rest between her legs, his body stretched over hers as he carried most of his weight on his elbows. She could feel the iron-hot length of him against her, and her body sang for more, needed more, would not allow him to stop.
Honey reached up to drag her hands down Kashif's muscled back, her nails dragging down his skin and making him groan.
“You have no idea what you are doing to me,” he growled, rocking against her.
“Show me,” she commanded, and she held on to him tighter as he started to press up into her.
He was as large as he looked, and Honey took a deep breath as he stretched her. He had prepared her, and even now, all she could think was how good he felt, how very delicious it was to have him like this.
“You feel so very, very good,” Kashif whispered in her ear. “You feel so very good, and I am going to make you feel better...”
Honey's eyes closed as he sunk into her in one slow but steady motion. It would have hurt if he had been any faster, but instead the stretch was simply good, simply her body welcoming his in a way that she had no idea was possible.
“Oh, good,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “So good...”
“Precious wife of mine,” Kashif responded, and he moved against her, slow and steady strokes that made her think of the tides of a peaceful sea, powerful and utterly unyielding.
There was nothing for Honey to do but to give herself up to the rhythm that Kashif set, her legs coming up to wrap around him as if she were afraid he might pull away and leave her. Instead, with every thrust, it felt as if they were sinking into one another, perfectly and wonderfully suited, and the fire inside her flared even harder, even hotter.
Slowly, Kashif picked up his tempo, and Honey had no idea when the urgency in her went from languorous to nearly desperate. She arched up against Kashif, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body desperate for more, and he laughed, a hint of her own desperation in his voice.
“That's right my darling,” he murmured. “That's right. Just like that. Come with me, I'll give it to you, I promise.”
Give her what, she could have asked, but then the tension in her body broke like a tide on the shore, shattering, throwing her into the air in a million glimmering pieces as she wailed her pleasure out loud. It was too much, far too much, it was going to break her forever, and at the same time, she knew that it was not enough. She would never get enough of this and this man, never, ever, ever…
A few moments later, when the pleasure was just beginning to subside, Kashif's motions grew hard and more abrupt, and Honey discovered a new kind of pleasure, looking up at Kashif's face as he spilled inside her, calling her name and driving into her like a
man possessed.
Surely nothing feels this good, she thought as Kashif rolled to one side and gathered her close. Surely this can't be real.
Honey had no idea how long they were silent. She even wondered if she had fallen asleep for a short while. Then she felt Kashif's hand smoothing down her hair, his broad frame snug against her back.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Very well,” she said, making him laugh.
“Well, I am very glad you had a pleasant time,” he teased. “I hope that at some point you will return to enjoy the experience again.”
Honey's face blushed bright red, but before she could scramble up defensively, Kashif's arms tightened around her as he kissed the top of her head.
“Do you have any idea how adorable I find you?” he asked softly. “Any idea at how good you feel?”
“I don't, actually,” Honey said softly. “We barely know each other.”
Kashif stilled, and she could almost hear how carefully he chose his next words.
“Do you regret what we did?”
“No,” she said immediately. “Never.”
“Good,” he said, and she was oddly touched by the relief in his voice. “Then we can build on this.”
Building, Honey thought. She could get behind that. And they hadn't used protection. She had thought she would feel more anxiety about the idea of having a child in this situation, with this man, but no. Her sense of ease continued, uninterrupted.
“It'll help us be more steady together,” Kashif continued, and that made her frown a little.
“More… steady?”
“Yes,” he said, and there was a satisfied note in his voice, as if he were a man who had managed to get all his ducks in a row. “I think tonight gives us a good foundation for moving ahead together in harmony and ease.”
It sounded good, Honey supposed, but even as they prepared to sleep, there was something about Kashif's satisfied words that bothered her.
Steady, harmonious and easy... like we are co-workers, she thought, settling back into the bed. Those are all good things. I just need to remember that that is what Kashif wants, because heaven above, would it be easy to want more from a man like this.
Chapter Six
Kashif
Honey, Kashif learned in the first month of their marriage, was an exemplary sheikha. He had thought she would be adequate when his minister had chosen her. He had thought that the responsible young woman he had met in the United States would do a good job. When he had first laid eyes on Honey again, he had thought she would be a responsible person, up for filling her end of the bargain, and even if she didn't, she would likely be discreet.
However four weeks after their wedding, his new wife hit the ground running, and showed no sign of stopping any time soon.
“You know, I told you the list of charities that the Minister of Protocol gave you was a suggestion. I assumed you would pick one or two opportunities off that list, not take it as an agenda.”
Across the breakfast table, Honey looked as beautiful as ever in a crimson tunic with dark brown trousers. The dramatic colors brought a flush of color to her cheeks, and it gave her eyes an almost amber glow in the morning light. She smiled at him, shrugging.
“Well, I need to do something if I am going to be a good wife to you,” she said easily. “It's not like it's appropriate for me to have a job at a library or a bookstore or something.”
“This is your job,” he pointed out. “Having breakfast with me, the odd social function, perhaps a speech here and there in support of progressive reform in the country. You do not have to run yourself ragged after every cause that deserves your time. It is commendable, but I do not want to see you wear yourself out.”
“Oh I worked harder than this when my— Over the last few years,” she said with a determined smile. “This is nothing. Besides. There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing, is there? This is all to bolster your reputation and the reforms you want to push through.”
“No, there's nothing wrong with it at all,” Kashif said vaguely, but he wasn't quite sure that was true.
It didn't occur to him until much later that day what the matter was, and when he figured it out, he blushed so red he was grateful there was no one in his office to see it.
The truth was that he missed her.
It was strange to think about, but it was the truth. He had lived all his life entirely self-sufficient. He liked company. He liked pretty women who hung on his every word and he liked the attention of the press and the flashing cameras whenever he deigned to attend some red carpet event or another, but he had always suspected the truth – if it all went away, he wouldn't miss it. He liked the attention, but it was a far cry from needing it.
Now he found that he missed Honey, and that made him feel as if the ground was tilting underneath him.
He supposed he could blame it on the fact that she had not returned to bed with him since that first incredible night. She had been pleased with what they had done, he would wager a large sum of money on that, but now she had pulled away. He had let it go – she was new to the position of sheikha, and she needed time to get used to it, but why would she stay away for so long? It was something that troubled him more than he cared to admit, and it was in that frame of mind that he decided to go looking for her that evening.
Of course Honey had been assigned her own secretary first thing, and when Kashif consulted with her, he was pleased to find out that Honey wasn't very far away at all.
“Her meeting with Lady Laila Farooq should be ending in the next half hour or so,” her secretary said promptly.
“Good. And nothing afterwards?”
“She gave a tentative maybe for a dinner to celebrate literacy in the country,” was the prompt reply and Kashif nodded briskly.
“That maybe is now a no,” he said. “If there's anything after, clear that as well.”
He caught a brief startled glance from Honey's secretary before she composed herself.
“All right, my lord, will that be—”
“And where is the sheikha right now?”
“My lord, she should be finishing up her meeting with Lady Laila in the library.”
“Thank you.”
As he headed towards the library, Kashif felt as though he had gone about this all wrong. He should never have let her retreat after their first night together. As his father had said before he died, you must begin as you intend to go on, and if he intended to keep that lovely beauty in his bed, her body and her smile setting him on fire, he should never have let things drift.
He was startled upon approaching the library to hear laughter – male and female both – and he frowned when it went into an even more suggestive silence. Why would a man be sitting in on a meeting between Honey and Laila, a woman who was old enough to be Honey's mother?
Scowling, Kashif threw open the door, and he stared at the scene in front of him: a man with silvering hair standing far, far too close to Honey, Honey with a sweet smile on her face and a red blush on her cheeks. There was an instant, just a bare instant, where Kashif wanted to tackle the man to the ground, and then sense – at least some of it – reasserted itself, and instead he strode across the library, seizing the man by the arm.
“Well,” he said icily. “So glad you have found a way to make the best use of your time, Honey,” he said coldly, and Honey stared at him. He was prepared for guilt or even anger, but to his surprise, there was only an expression of perplexed confusion on her face.
“Kashif? What are you doing?”
“Holding me rather tightly,” the man in his grasp said, and Kashif turned to face him in irritation. He hadn't recognized the man from the door, but now he wondered if he did. There was something familiar about his features, and Kashif started to get the sense that he was in the wrong.
“Kashif, really,” said a voice from behind him. “I know you are newly married, but enough is enough.”
Kashif took a step
backwards, releasing the man and turning to Lady Laila, who had been just out of his line of sight at the bookshelves. She was a stern-faced woman with the erect carriage of soldier, and she approached him with a calm stride.
“Kashif, I believe you have been introduced to my brother before. This is Mamoud Yousef. He is the editor-in-chief of the Allatf Inquiry.”
One of the most notable newspapers in the country. Of course that's where I know him from, Kashif thought with an inward groan.
“Of course,” he said stiffly. “I thought... Well, never mind.”
“Thought what?” asked Honey, her pale eyes darting from one person to another. “What did you think?”
“Nothing,” Kashif started to say, but Lady Laila turned to Honey with a kind look.
“We should be on our way, sheikha,” she said warmly. “It was very kind of you to make time for us, and I am so glad my brother could speak to you about the newspaper’s scholarship efforts. Our country will always need independent journalists who seek the truth, no matter what kind of trouble it brings them.”
“Oh the pleasure is all mine, Lady Laila,” Honey said, and even in his acute embarrassment, Kashif was impressed by Honey's genuine warmth. He had heard that if you could fake sincerity, you had it made, but it didn't seem as if Honey was faking anything at all.
Lady Laila and her brother turned to go, and Kashif thought that he might have escaped the worst of it, when the older woman turned to look over her shoulder.
“You are very young,” she said to him with an impressively grand tone, “but my sheikh, you must remember to actually use your experience and your restraint. It is not enough to simply boast that you have it.”
The library door closed behind them with a soft pressurized hiss, and reluctantly, Kashif turned back to Honey, whose confusion was being quickly drowned out by her indignation.
“Did … did you really just come storming in her thinking that I was doing something inappropriate?”