The Sheikh went down on his knees in a flash, gripping the waistband of her tights and ripping it apart with such force she yelped in surprise, her hands grabbing his thick hair as he pulled the tattered Spandex off her. Then he tore her panties off by the side seam, smacking her thick thighs with his open palms, making her yelp again as he inhaled deep of her feminine scent.
“Spread for me,” he said, rubbing her thighs and calves and gently pulling so she took a wider stance before him. “A little more. Open up so I can taste you. Ah, yes. That is good. Perfect. Ya Allah, you smell so good. I must taste you.”
“Oh . . . oh, shit,” he heard her mutter from above him, her hands pulling at his hair as he nuzzled her pubic curls with his nose and then slowly began to lick her slit with long, forceful strokes. She smelled clean and fresh, tasted tangy and sweet, and the Sheikh could barely control his need as he rubbed her thighs and pushed his face deep between them.
He reached down with one hand so he could unbuckle and unzip. His cock was so big and hard he could barely breathe from the feeling of being restricted by his underwear and trousers. Somehow he managed to get his pants off while still keeping his face pushed up in her crotch as she clawed at his hair and rubbed her mound all over his nose and mouth.
Rafeez could feel her juices coating his stubble, dripping down his chin, and he grinned as he finally pulled his trousers and underwear down to his muscular thighs, releasing his cock. It sprung out straight ahead of him, and he stroked it and shuddered, wondering if he’d ever been this hard, this thick, this full of desire for a woman.
“Never,” he muttered as he let go of his erection out of fear he would come too soon. “Ya Allah, never!”
“What’s that?” she groaned from above him. “What?”
“Never mind,” he answered, grinning as he licked her dark lips and tasted her sweet tang. “Come. Come down here with me.”
“I think I’m already coming,” she muttered, and he could feel her buttocks quivering as he pulled her rear cheeks apart and ran his fingers along her crack, pushing his tongue deep into her cunt as he did it, curling it upwards and driving it against the fibrous point of her g-spot. “Oh, shit! What is that! What are you doing to me?! Oh, God!”
He felt her come all over his face, and he licked and sucked as hard as he could, pushing his middle finger into her rear hole as he did it. She screamed as she came again, and when she pushed her crotch against his face and began to grind shamelessly, with abandon, like she’d lost herself, did not care for anything but the way he was making her feel, the Sheikh knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a roar he pulled her down to the floor with him, catching her with his strong arms as her knees buckled. He pushed her down onto her back, raising her arms above her head, sucking and biting at her creamy, heavy breasts, her big red nipples as she moaned and thrashed beneath him.
She was clearly still coming as the Sheikh rammed his cock into her, and he groaned out loud as he felt her heat envelop his hardness, her wetness coat his shaft as he began to drive and pump into her with a frenzy that he didn’t know he had in him.
“Ya Allah,” he gasped as he felt his cock somehow expand within her until he knew he was stretching her walls to their limit, opening her up to the max, penetrating her deeper than any man had, than any man could. “I have never felt this kind of need for a woman!”
“Oh, so it's been a while for you too, huh?” she said, looking up at him, her brown eyes big and innocent as she teased him.
The Sheikh roared with laughter, his eyes wide with surprise at the playfulness of this woman spread beneath him, her beautiful curves taking everything his body had to give.
“I am so aroused I do not even remember who or what I slept with before you,” he shot back, flexing his cock inside her. He pulled halfway out and drove back in with all the force he had, gritting his teeth when he saw Pen’s eyes roll up in her head as her body shuddered with the impact of his re-entry. “But think very carefully about making these kinds of jokes again, my little farmgirl.” He pushed his hands beneath her ass, lifting her thighs and grinning as she wrapped her heavy legs around him. He kept pumping as he managed to claw his fingers around to her crack once more, firmly planting his thumb on her rear pucker as he felt her shudder again as her next orgasm became imminent.
Then suddenly the Sheikh stopped, driving his cock deep and holding still as a rock. He looked into her eyes as she opened them and stared up at him, her body still shuddering. “Be careful,” he whispered, still grinning as he pushed his thumb into her ass from beneath, flexing his cock again, kissing her lips gently and then drawing his head back to look at her. “Be very careful.”
Suddenly her eyes flicked wide open, and he felt her push against his tight chest. “Oh, shit,” she said. “I’m not on birth control! You need to pull out! What am I doing! I can’t do this!”
The Sheikh frowned as a chill ran along his spine. Ya Allah, he had not even thought of that! How could that be? He was usually extraordinarily careful about where he put his royal cock! He had a dozen condoms in his trouser pocket, but yet he had not even considered reaching for one. The desire to feel her from the inside had been too strong, and now there was a desire to come inside her too—a need so primal, so deep, so uncontrollable that it scared him.
I want to feel my seed pouring into her, Rafeez realized as he felt his balls tighten even though the two of them were still like statues. And why not? It is the most natural thing, is it not? The most basic need of a man? And what is the risk, truly? The chances of her getting pregnant from one encounter are low in general, yes? Who knows where she is in her cycle. Who knows how fertile she is. And what is the worst case? That she actually does get pregnant? So what? So bloody what?
Slowly the Sheikh began pumping again, even though he knew it was madness. He’d met this woman less than an hour ago. She was about as far away from a suitable candidate to be Sheikha as one could think of! There could never be anything between them, and here he was about to pour his royal seed into her!
“No, you need to pull out, Rafeez,” she whispered, pushing harder against his chest. “Listen, you need to—”
Suddenly the Sheikh felt a rush of anger whip through him. “No one tells me what I need to do, understood? I am a goddamn king and I will do as I please. I will come where I want. As often as I want.” He kept pumping as he felt his heavy balls slap against her from below. “And do not pretend for my benefit. Any woman would jump at the chance to be—”
He did not finish the sentence, because his face exploded in pain as she slapped him clean across the cheek, sending the blood rushing to his head so fast he shouted in surprised anger.
“Get the hell off me, you arrogant piece of shit!” she said, almost spitting the words out. She brought her hand back to slap him again, but the Sheikh grabbed both her wrists and pinned them up over her head, pushing all his weight flat against her body so she couldn’t move at all. “Stop, or I’ll scream!”
“Bloody right you will scream,” the Sheikh grunted, clenching his jaw as he narrowed his eyes and stared at her as he felt a manic surge of energy course through his hard body. “Because I will make you scream. I will make you scream for more.”
Still holding her wrists above her, her body securely held down by his weight, the Sheikh looked around the room. His gaze fell on the tattered Spandex of her black tights which he’d ripped down the seam, and he grinned and reached for them. He twisted the black cloth around her wrists, testing its strength as he pulled it tight.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, her brown eyes wide as she stared up at him. “This isn’t funny.”
“Really? Because I am laughing. See?” said the Sheikh, grinning wide as he tied the ends of her bindings around the leg of the heavy oakwood dining table that he was confident she wouldn’t be able to lift while she was on the floor. He tied the knots
and then without hesitation got off her and flipped her over, pulling her ass up in the air and smacking her rump hard with his open palm. “Now scream if you want. Scream for me while I laugh!”
He spanked her again, watching her heavy buttocks quiver with the force of his slaps. He could see the smooth, creamy skin turn red, with fingermarks appearing on her magnificent globes as she howled and pulled on her bindings.
“You’re a psycho!” she screamed, turning her head and trying to kick out at him. But the Sheikh held her legs down, smacking the back of her thighs, making her howl again as she got the message and stopped kicking out.
“I was not until I met you,” he whispered, slowing down suddenly and beginning to rub her buttocks. He kissed her smooth asscheeks, sliding his hand between her thighs. “Ya Allah, you are wet. So damned wet.”
He felt her shudder with arousal as he ran his fingers along her slit, feeling her wetness coat his hands down to the wrist. He kept kissing her rear globes, taking his mouth closer and closer to her divine crack until he was licking her up and down as he felt her relax and begin to spread for him.
“So yet another wanton woman has turned a good, decent man into a psycho rapist?” she muttered, arching her back down as the Sheikh pushed two fingers into her cunt from below. “Funny how that happens.”
“I am sorry,” he whispered from between her rear cheeks. “I lost control. It has never happened before, I swear it.”
“Oh, you swear it!” she said, mocking his accent in a way that made Rafeez want to spank her again. “Well, that makes me feel a lot better. You realize I’m still tied to my own damned table, and you’re . . . you’re . . . oh, God, what are you doing. Yes, do that. Keep doing that. Oh, shit!”
The Sheikh slid his tongue into her rear hole, curling three fingers in her pussy as he did it, and he could feel her come instantly. He kept up the dual penetration, feeling his cock yearning to re-enter her. He was dripping pre-cum all over the floorboards, and he was surprised he hadn’t blown his load yet. But somehow he knew his seed belonged in this woman, and he was finishing inside her, one way or the other.
“All right,” he gasped, finally pulling his tongue out of her asshole as he felt her climax peak and then slowly wind down as she convulsed under his touch. “To show you I am sorry and that I am not a psycho rapist, as you so eloquently suggested, I will let you choose. I am finishing inside you, one way or another. One place or another. But you can decide where. I am a gentleman, and I will let the lady make the choice.”
“What choice?” she muttered, clearly still out of her senses from how hard she’d come.
“The choice about where I put my seed, little farmgirl. Which opening? Quickly now. I cannot wait much longer. Choose, or I will choose for you.”
5
Choose or I will choose for you.
Pen wasn’t sure if this was a dream or a nightmare. She’d already come more times than she could count, and although Rafeez had scared the hell out of her for a moment, that moment had passed. If anything, the fear had heightened her need, even though she hated to admit it. Although it sounded laughable, she actually did believe that he’d lost control in a way he never had before. After all, she’d certainly lost control in a way she never had, right? Hell, he was doing things to her she’d never even fantasized about, and she was wet and hot, coming like some slut under his erotic touch.
I’ll get you for this, Willow, she thought as she smiled at the filthy choice this man had put forth. She tugged at her bindings, feeling the table move a little as she pulled. If she really wanted she could get up on her knees and lift the table enough to slip her bound hands free. She could probably even pull the knot open with her teeth. But there was something about being tied up like a prisoner, spanked like a bad girl, fucked like a whore that was speaking to a part of Pen that she didn’t know existed.
Maybe it’s this storm, she thought, trying to reason with herself, come to terms with why she was enjoying this so much, even when she was afraid of this muscular, dark man with a thick Arabian accent and an even thicker cock. Yeah, that’s it. The storm. It’s cast this dark shadow on everything, making things seem surreal, making it seem like everything’s upside down, turned around, twisted like how my poor torn tights are twisted around my wrists.
“Hurry up, little farmgirl,” he whispered from behind her, running his finger down along her spine as she shivered and gasped. “Choose, or I will choose for you. And I am so full and ready, I may fill all three of your holes if you do not choose.”
The thought of this stranger coming everywhere, in every opening, pouring his load into her mouth, pussy, and anus almost made her come again, and she closed her eyes and groaned as the Sheikh’s finger stopped at the small of her back, just above the ridge of her ass.
“All right. All right! Just give me a moment,” she whispered, arching her back down and turning her head halfway. A part of her wanted to suck him, swallow him, let him pour his heat down her throat. But she couldn’t deny that when he’d pushed his fingers into her rear she’d been aroused in the most filthy, sick way . . . a way she never imagined was possible, a way she suspected wouldn’t be possible with any other man. The very thought of taking a man there, of letting a man go there, of letting a man come there had been so off-limits in her mind that she hadn’t even toyed with the idea. But now, after an hour with this beast from the East, she was tied and spread, about to actually choose to have him enter where no man had gone before!
“You know,” he said, tracing little circles with his fingertip on the small of her back, slowly moving down along her asscrack as she shuddered. “Any other woman would have let me come inside her pussy. Any other woman would have begged me to fill her with my royal seed. But you shout at me to pull out, and when I do not, you slap me across the face!” He grunted as he ran his hand sideways along her crack gently. Then he pulled his hand back and smacked her bottom again, doing it twice on each cheek and then stopping. “You do not understand who I am, do you?”
Pen swallowed hard as she waited for the stinging to subside. Then she turned her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “I understand that you’re a typical man suffering from the delusion that every woman you sleep with wants to carry your lovechild. It’s a sickness, you know. Extreme narcissism. Exemplified by the fact that you called yourself a king earlier. A king! In Fargo, North Dakota!”
Rafeez laughed out loud, smacking her ass again and then leaning forward and kissing her lower back. “Do you know what the title Sheikh means?”
Pen shrugged. “It means Mister or Sir in the Middle East.”
“It means king, my little American farmgirl,” he whispered from down near her back. “I am Sheikh Rafeez Al-Zahaar. King Rafeez of Zahaar. King of Zahaar!”
“I’m so impressed,” Pen said, not quite sure what to make of him. He sounded serious, but delusional people were serious. That’s what delusional meant! “And what is Zaa-haar? Your playground where you built sandcastles as a kid? Then you declared yourself king of the sandpit and now you hang out in North Dakota and try to knock women up with your self-proclaimed royal seed? You know, I’ve met some weirdoes in my life, but you’re by far the—”
But she didn’t finish her sentence, because she felt a cool breeze around her bare ankles and thighs. Then she heard the front door slam, and as she turned her head in a panic, wondering if someone else had walked in, her heart almost stopped when she realized the room was empty. She was alone. Her king was gone. He’d walked right out the damned door without saying another word! He’d just up and left!
Pen frowned as the pit in her stomach expanded to where she could barely breathe. She thought she was going to be sick, and she couldn’t understand why!
But as she went up on her knees and pulled up the heavy table just enough to slide the tights out and free herself, she forced herself to acknowledge that she knew exactly why s
he felt sick. This man had walked into her life, sent to her by Willow, a gift from her best friend. And Pen had driven him away, insulted and mocked him to the point where she must have hurt his pride.
“When will you learn to keep your big fat mouth shut?!” she screamed, not sure why she was screaming. She sat there on her haunches, naked and vulnerable, wondering if the door would open again and he’d come rushing in like an Arabian stallion, push her down face-first, punish her for her rudeness, then take what he wanted, the way a king takes what he wants, how he wants. Finally she wondered if she wanted him to come back, or if this was for the best. After all, he’d tied her up, spanked her nice and hard, and then threatened to take her in every opening! Who knew what this man was capable of?! Who knew where his cock had been before her?!
But what upset her most was the sinking thought that who knew where this would have led if she’d just kept her big fat mouth shut!
Slowly Pen reached for her sweater and pulled it on. It was long enough to get past her hips, and she pulled it down without bothering to find her bra and panties—though if she remembered right, the Sheikh had ripped both those just like he’d destroyed her tights.
I should send him a bill for my underwear and tights, she thought, frowning as she held up the tattered black Spandex. These are Lulu Lemons. Not cheap.
Whatever, she thought, laughing and tossing the useless tights aside. She reached for her phone, checking the time and deciding it wasn’t too late to call Willow and give the bitch a piece of her mind. Or thank her. Pen wasn’t sure which.
“Hello?” she said, frowning when an unfamiliar male voice answered Willow’s phone. She pulled her phone back from her ear and checked the screen to make sure she’d dialed right. She had, and so she got back on and said hello again. “Who is this? Why do you have Willow’s phone?”
“Are you related to Ms. Willow?” came the voice, and Pen felt a chill run through her when she heard a flurry of voices and random electronic sounds in the background. It sounded like an emergency room at a hospital, came the thought, and Pen almost choked as she managed to control herself long enough to respond.
Grateful for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 16) Page 3