by Sophia Lynn
She started to ask if they were getting out already, but then Kashif bent her so she stood in the shallow spring, her hands on the topmost step so she was bracing herself upright.
"Kashif?"
"Shh, this will feel so good."
Honey gasped when his bare foot came down to spread her feet wider, and then his blunt cock slid up between her thighs, rubbing back and forth over her sensitive lower lips until she was faint with desire.
She cried out with how much she wanted him, and her cry echoed over the water. Kashif laughed, nuzzling her between the shoulder blades as he leaned down to cup her breasts tenderly.
"There's no one here to see, my darling," he murmured. "We are the only people for miles. You have nothing to be embarrassed about here. All that matters is that I am here with you, and I am going to keep you safe, because you are just for me."
Honey let out a deep and longing cry as Kashif buried himself in her with one deep stroke. She was being filled, and a deep wave of pleasure surged over her. Then Kashif was rocking into her, long, strong and powerful thrusts that stoked the heat in her until she was almost convinced the water was boiling and Kashif was somehow even hotter.
"Oh, oh please," she wailed, and Kashif's grip on her hips tightened, his body moving over hers even faster.
When she came, it was so intense that her vision flashed white for just a moment, her entire body shaking with need and with a pleasure she had never imagined before. It was perfect, it was so good, and in that moment, there was no one but her and Kashif, nothing but the pleasure she brought him and he brought her.
A few moments later, Kashif thrust into her, joining her in her ecstasy. Instinctively, she tightened around him, and she realized he could certainly feel it when he shuddered over her, uttering a cry that was at least as desperate as her own.
"Precious woman, all mine," he groaned, and then he spilled inside her.
For a long time, they simply sat on the steps in the water, Honey's head pressed against Kashif's shoulder. It felt good, it all felt so very very good, and then with a sigh, Kashif rose to his feet, lifting her up along with him.
"Come on," he said. "We should at least go inside and shower. We shouldn't actually sleep out here."
"Agree to disagree," Honey yawned, but she was docile enough until Kashif gathered up their clothes and tucked them under his arm.
"Um, my dress..."
Kashif shot her an amused look.
"As I told you before, there's no one out here to see," he said reasonably. "And believe me when I say I like the look of you like this. I'm tempted to keep you like this until we need to go back to the palace."
Honey was suddenly glad for the darkness that kept her red and sudden blush a secret, but she suspected that Kashif knew anyway.
"All right," she nodded, and Kashif walked the entire way back to the house with his hand at the small of her back for comfort.
"I don't think you have any idea how beautiful you are," he whispered to her when they were back inside.
She had never imagined that she was so beautiful or that someone would desire her so very much, but slowly, in inches, in leaps and back in inches again, she was learning.
Back in the house, all of the weariness she had been holding off came for her at once, and she was falling asleep on her feet as Kashif ran them both through the shower. Her eyes were barely open when they settled in the bed, but as Kashif tenderly kissed her goodnight, she found the will to speak.
"Is this what being yours means?" she asked, so sleepy that she could no longer guard against saying the first thing on her mind.
"It means whatever you think it means, whatever you allow it to mean, whatever you want it to mean," Kashif said. "It is the truth."
And the truth is that I love him, Honey thought as she fell asleep, and though she didn't exactly remember it when she woke up, it was still there.
The weekend passed in a blur of sleep and pleasure. Honey was naked more often than she wasn't, and she was never all that far from Kashif. By the time they were on the road for home, she felt both tired and reinvigorated, as if things perhaps weren't so bad at all.
It's going to be all right, she thought. Whatever comes next, we will be together, and I am his and he is mine.
Those thoughts shredded like a fine mist under unforgiving sunshine on Monday morning when she opened her tablet and saw the news headline that was being read all over Allatf.
GOLDDIGGING SHIEKHA NO ROMANTIC – SHEIKH'S NEW BRIDE SADDLED WITH DEBT!
Chapter Fourteen
Kashif
As much as he might have liked to stay with Honey at the hot spring all week, Kashif knew he had to be back in the city to sit in with the trade commission and placate the Vietnamese delegates. Things had come too far and gone too well for him to give up, and he walked into the meeting room with renewed purpose first thing that morning. He’d left the palace so early he hadn’t even met with Honey for breakfast. He was a little irked to miss something that had grown to be such a nice ritual for both of them, but if he wrapped up this endeavor, he could have all the leisurely breakfasts with her he wanted – and he wanted all of them.
He didn't emerge from the proceedings until close to lunch, victorious, tired and ravenous. Kashif looked at his phone to call Honey and see where she might be, but then he frowned. The top four messages were from his publicist, and each one sounded more panicked than the next. He scowled, because his publicist wasn't a man who was known to be sensationalist or prone to panic – it was one of the reasons he had gotten the job in the first place.
He also wasn't a man to mince words, and of course he had sent Kashif the most relevant link first. The moment Kashif clicked on it and read the headline, he felt as if pure rage were coursing through his body. Kashif had always believed himself a calm man, one who would not be easily provoked to disaster, but right now, he could feel his blood pumping hard in his body, and the urge to utterly destroy whoever had written that article on the spot.
When he looked at that headline and finally made himself read the article, he was even more furious, and glancing at the byline, he finally gave his poor publicist a call.
“My lord—”
“Stonewell,” Kashif said, his voice low and furious. “What's his status in this country?”
It was, he thought belatedly, something his publicist shouldn't rightly know, but the answer was prompt.
“He is in Allatf on a work visa, my lord.”
“Good. He doesn't have one any longer. Speak to immigration and whatever embassy wants to claim him and make sure that he is on a plane leaving Allatf immediately. If he is still within the borders by this time tomorrow, I want to know about it, and I will not be pleased. Is that understood?”
“Absolutely,” said his publicist, and Kashif blinked, momentarily distracted by the man's blood-thirsty pleasure at the idea.
“I take it he isn't a friend of the palace publicity office?”
“No, sir. I have been recommending the revocation of his visa for years.”
“Well, remind me next time how right you are. Now. As for the rest of this, I want a press conference, immediately if not sooner—”
He growled when another call chimed on his phone. Kashif would have ignored it to take care of this, but he glanced down and saw Honey's name. His heart beat harder, and he swallowed.
“Stay on the line,” he said shortly. “And convene that press conference.”
Taking a deep breath, Kashif answered Honey's call. He loved her and respected her far too much to greet her as if nothing was wrong, and from the ragged sound of her breathing on the other line, it was far too late to hide the truth from her in any case.
“Honey. Honey, sweetheart—”
“I knew this would happen,” she said, and the calm and dead tone of her voice made his hackles rise. “I knew that this was what would happen the moment I relaxed—”
“That that slime ball Stonewell would start throwing mud to
see what stuck? Honey, it's really not much of a guess. That's what men like that do. They throw mud, and they continue until they are stopped. I am only sorry I did not stop him sooner. Honey, trust me, he's never going to attack anyone like that again if I have my way.”
“But there's always going to be another one, isn't there?” she asked tiredly. “There's always going to be someone else who digs up the truth.”
“What truth?” Kashif snapped. “I read that article. So you were in debt when you married me. So you used the money I settled on you to pay off that debt. What does that matter?”
“I never told you,” she said, and his heart ached at how stricken she sounded. “I knew what you were trying to do, and I never told you. I left you open and vulnerable.”
“Honey, a near-tabloid has published one very foolish article about someone I care about very much. I am not vulnerable.”
“You cannot tell me it looks good,” she said, her tone dire. “Kashif, right now, I'm more a liability than I am a benefit. We need to talk about what that means, if I can even continue as your wife.”
Kashif's, whose temper had been holding on by a single slender strand, suddenly straightened.
“Do you want to talk about what we're going to do, Honey?” he asked. “Where are you right now?”
“I'm … I'm in my suite. I couldn't bring myself to go anywhere after I read that headline, after I knew that so many people had read it as well. I'm sorry, Kashif...”
The rage that roared through Kashif like a river dammed up briefly at the sound of her voice.
“It's all right, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It really is. I have something to do, and then we can talk about this as much as you need to, all right?”
“Wait, what are you going to do?” asked Honey, a panicked edge to her voice. “You were talking about Stonewell…”
Kashif laughed, suddenly feeling far lighter than he had been before. Even in her obvious distress, Honey was worried about him losing his temper, doing something he couldn't take back. He really had no idea how he had gotten so lucky.
“Nothing like that, darling. Just... turn on the television, all right? My publicist, I suppose I should really call him our publicist, works very fast.”
“Kashif, wait—”
“I'll talk to you in a little while, my darling,” he said, and then he switched the call back.
“All right,” he said, warming to his plan. “Tell me you are as good as I pay you to be.”
His publicist laughed.
“Better, my lord. Ten minutes, and the press will be waiting on the front steps.”
The crowd for the press conference was larger than he had thought it might be. Kashif couldn't quite decide if it was because it was a slow news day or if the sharks had had their appetites whetted by the headlines. He noted with grim approval that Stonewell was not present. He probably hadn't been going to beat the man, but it was rather more tempting than he liked to think about.
The publicist was still trying to give him talking points on note cards, but Kashif waved him off. He knew what he was going to say, and he didn't need cards to remember it.
The moment he stepped beyond the palace doors, dressed in the severe black tunic and trousers that played so well with their conservative audiences, the cameras started to whirl and the flashbulbs went off. This was going to go live all over the country, and he couldn't be more pleased about it.
“Sheikh Kashif, what is your opinion on the article published about your wife?”
“Sheikh Kashif, is there any truth to the allegation that she is deeply in debt to organized crime?”
“Do you have any intention of divorce?”
He raised a hand and the news corps fell silent, their gazes expectant.
“First,” he said, his voice calm, “when referring to my wife, you will address her as the sheikha. There are no other options. That is who she is, and that is who she will remain. I take it that answers some of your questions right there.”
He looked out over the reporters, and he could imagine why Honey was so very afraid of what they could do. However, as powerful as the press could be, she had nothing to fear, and he would see to it that none of this would hurt her.
“My wife, Sheikha Honey, is a woman of outstanding morals and character. I knew this when I married her, and I know this now. Nothing she has done has affected her duties or mine, and she remains my most trusted confidante and the partner I have chosen to spend my life with.”
He swallowed, because he knew there was a time limit on their engagement. He hoped that before it was up, he could convince her to extend it by another fifty years or so, if not longer.
“She is the love of my life,” Kashif said clearly. “Whatever debt she might have incurred, no matter what has happened beforehand, we are moving forward together. She is the most important person in my world, and she will be loved and protected to the best of my ability for the rest of my days.”
The press corps murmured among itself, and Kashif was just getting ready to take a few careful questions when the murmur rose up to a low roar, and the cameras spun around past him. Kashif turned around as well in confusion, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Honey behind him, her face calm and smiling, dressed as formally as he was.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said, coming to stand at his side. Hidden by the podium, she took his hand, and Kashif could feel how cold it was, but how firm her grip was as well.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my wife,” he said, stepping back to give her room at the microphone.
“I am not used to public speaking yet,” she said softly, “so please forgive me if I go on longer than I should. I have seen the headline this morning, and it hurt me. It was malice, pure and simple, regarding affairs that are only of interest to myself and my husband. I love this country with all of my heart. I would never do anything to endanger it. I will not run when things like this are said. In that, I hope to emulate my husband, who is the bravest and wisest man I know.”
She paused, and turned to Kashif.
“I love him more than I have loved anyone in all my life, and I will not run away.”
Amidst the burst of questions and cheers from the press, the two of them retreated into the palace. The moment the doors were closed behind them, Kashif swept Honey into his arms, crushing her to his chest.
“I didn't think you would— Honey, that was amazing, and you were so—”
“I was terrified,” she laughed. “But I listened to you on the stream, and I knew...”
“What did you know?”
“That I love you,” she said, her voice low and breathless. “And that I will never be afraid like that again.”
Kashif laughed, swinging her around as she yelped and clung to him.
“I love you,” he said, finally settling her on her feet. “I love you with every bit of me, and that will never end.”
Epilogue
Honey
Eight months later
Honey woke up still sore and slightly dazed from what felt like no sleep at all. Her mouth tasted like it was full of cotton, and before her eyes were even properly open, she reached to her side, where a small padded platform had been attached to her hospital bed. The moment her fingers touched an impossible small hand, she sighed with relief.
“Morning, small one,” she murmured, shifting so she could see her and Kashif's son. “Are you finally tuckered out after all the crying last night?”
Abdel Riaz made a small smacking sound with his lips before opening his mouth in a yawn. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, how perfect he was and how small, but she spared a glance around at the empty suite.
“Have you seen which way your daddy went?”
As if in answer to her whispered question, the door opened, and Kashif, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, carrying a covered tray of food walked in. He looked as rumpled as she had ever seen him, and he gave her a rueful glance as he set the food on the t
able by her side.
“Sorry, I thought I would be back before you woke up,” he murmured. “How are you doing?'
“Comfortable,” she said after thinking about it. “Exhausted. Ready to be home. Have you talked to the doctor?”
“They want to check on a few more things, but yes, we should be home this evening, all three of us.”
Honey's heart ached with happiness as Kashif leaned down to kiss his newborn son on the head. She had never imagined how it would feel to see her large husband touching a tiny child with such love, and it nearly made her tear up again.
“Good,” she said. “I want to be home.”
“Soon, love.”
He came to sit on her other side, needlessly fussing with her blankets before she laid her hands over his.
“I'm all right,” she said. “I'm just eager to be home, that's all.”
“Soon,” he promised. “Is there anything else I can get for you in the meantime? Jewelry, flowers, fine clothes?”
“You know, I think I'll settle for an apple slice or two if you've got them. My appetite's coming back,”
The apple slice was crisp and delicious, and for some reason, it was just too much. She was here with her new child, who would be the sheikh of Allatf, and her husband, and she was eating an apple, and it was just too much. The tears came, and Honey tried to palm them away, sniffling as Kashif rose in panic.
“No, no, it's all right,” she told him. “It really is, I just... I just...”
“Honey?”
“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I just love both of you so much...”
Kashif started to laugh in relief, but before she could scold him for being so insensitive, he cam to sit on the edge of the bed and swept her into his arms. As he held her tight, she thought she could feel him shake.