by Snihur, Erin
As a child she had always dreamed of finding love like her mother and father. And when her mother passed away, Amina had seen how far her father had fallen without her. She couldn’t imagine feeling that kind of pain because of true love.
Maarku seems to be wrestling with himself and Amina longs to quell his fears and nervousness. Smiling slightly, Amina tries to allay his worries.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” She suggests.
Maarku pauses in his pacing and then nods. Moving closer to her, but not close enough in Amina’s opinion, Maarku reaches over and clasps her hands that rest on her lap in his large, warm ones. In vivid detail and strained tone, Maarku begins telling her about his father’s passing and how his death had revealed that his brother Khalid was to marry a woman he did not love to secure peace in Aman. Then, Khalid met a woman in Canada and fell in love. Only for Maarku to see Khalid being led away by the woman and he interfered. Against his brother’s orders, Maarku intimidated the woman, in the hopes of protecting his family from who he believed to be a woman who was hoping to gain status and financial means from Khalid. Instead, Khalid’s arranged marriage went through and then subsequently they divorced. Khalid gave Maarku the ultimatum, either ask for forgiveness from Khalid and his love, Amelia, the new Sheikha of Aman, or leave his family and be cut off.
Maarku had chosen the latter. Out of pride and disbelief, he’d fled Aman and driven himself into the ground. At the time, he and Lisette had been seeing one another and to get back at his brother he’d asked the vain woman to marry him, thinking himself in love with her. With Lisette and his family rejecting him, Maarku had spun himself into a hole of depression and drunkenness.
“Khalid froze what little assets I still had before Christmas in an effort to bring me out of hiding. When we made contact, he told me that I would be welcomed back to Aman and the family. if I did two things for him,” Maarku’s voice, now hoarse from his emotional story, muttered.
Amina didn’t speak. She was too stunned by his story. She felt so sad for the man that had lost everything because he had been trying to protect the heir of Aman. As the spare, his father had drilled into Maarku from an early age that he was useless and they needed Khalid to remain the rightful heir. Amina had read the news articles and gossip magazines that had speculated on the Sheik of Aman’s sudden divorce and new wife. It had all seemed terribly romantic to her at the time. Now, she felt as though ice spread through her veins.
“Firstly, I asked Amelia to forgive me,” Maarku mutters and seems to smile slightly at the mention of his sister-in-law, “She is an extremely compassionate woman. Of course, she’d have to be to put up with my overbearing and overprotective brother.”
As silence fell upon them after Maarku’s musings, Amina whispers, “And the second thing your brother asked of you?”
Sighing in resignation, Maarku reveals, “He asked that I attend your crowning celebration on his behalf and strengthen Aman and Kulaz’ ties. However necessary.”
“What?” Amina urges, gasping for breath as everything around her becomes clearer and she cries out, springing to her slippered feet, “The market! You knew who I really was then, didn’t you? Abrar was right, you are looking for marriage so that you can take my crown and your brothers’ empire can expand!”
Eyes wide in confusion, Maarku stands as well and holds his hands up peacefully, “I had no idea who you were that day in the market or that night at the masquerade! And what does Abrar have to do with this?”
“He advised me that you were plotting to charm me into marrying you so that you could become Sheik of Kulaz!” Amina shrieks and then throws up her hands in frustration, “I hate the fact that shifty man was right!”
Scoffing at her, Maarku sweeps his hands around her at the golden suite and expensive furniture, “Look around you, Amina, does it look like I need your crown?”
Beginning to pace in front of the windows, Maarku sighs and shakes his head, his tone going soft in resignation, “I never wanted your crown and I never wanted to force you into marriage. My brother, he was frightened. For his people and most importantly, for his family and my little niece or nephew currently growing in Amelia’s belly.”
“Khalid only wanted a treaty between our two countries. He worried that after our father’s materialistic rule, that your father might have taken out arms against us. My brother does not want war or to expand Aman beyond its established borders. He only wishes for peace,” Maarku continues his speech, seeming sad in a way, as though his words diminish his own value.
“You’ve told me what your brother wants. But what do you want, Maarku?” Amina whispers, needing this answer more than any of the other questions she has screaming in her head right now.
Murky, green eyes that held the answers to her inwardly screaming questions, stared back at her and a guttural groan seemed to escape through Maarku’s throat. Closing his eyes tightly, Maarku opened them again and this time, his eyes were a little clearer and greener compared to the dash of blue Amina had seen in the daylight.
Tell me, Amina inwardly willed, just as he opened his mouth and answered her unspoken order.
“You. However, you will have me.”
22
“You. However, you will have me.”
Maarku’s words wash over Amina in a bath of warmth and tingles shoot through her veins. They hadn’t been together since that first night at the masquerade. It had been so fast and explosive. Tonight, Amina wanted slow and gentle before they came together as one. Tonight, there would be no masks to hide them. Who cares what tomorrow brings? They had tonight.
Pushing Maarku to take a seat back on the couch behind him, Amina inhales nervously. She has never done this before and had only read about women who take what they want sexually from men in books and magazines.
Sucking in an audible breath, Maarku’s voice is gravelly and strained as he asks, “Is this what you want, jamal?”
Pulling off her hijab to reveal her dark hair, still braided perfectly by her maid, Amina blushes slightly and nods, “More than anything.”
Unbuttoning the back of her brown cloak, Amina let the now open fabric drop. Maarku’s gasp is as audible as his eyes grow wide as he drinks in the sight of her. Inwardly preening in delight at the sight of Maarku’s appreciative gaze, Amina slides her hand over the green and gold fabric that she wrapped around her form.
Tied at the back, the fabric wraps tightly around her chest, pressing her breasts up slightly, revealing her cleavage. The fabric, while not overly long, is long enough that she was able to fashion a makeshift wrap dress like celebrities and models wore. Posing slightly with her thighs pressed tightly together, Amina’s core drips slightly as Maarku’s gaze heats up at the sight of her bare legs.
“What do you think?” Amina whispers, breaking the silence. The silence is killing her. Did he like it? Did he hate it? What did he think?
Stammering, Maarku encloses a fist over his mouth and clears his throat before he growls, “I don’t know whether to sweep you into my arms or beat Alexander senseless for letting you walk around the city like that.”
Giggling, Amina feels as though a weight lifts off her shoulders and wiggles her body slightly in what she hopes is a seductive gesture. It seems to work, as Maarku’s eyes drift down to her wiggling bottom.
“You did give me this fabric. Now, I’m giving it back to you. With a little interest.” Amina explains and waltzes closer to him, her body pushing between Maarku’s slightly adjured legs.
“The interest is much appreciated,” Maarku groans as Amina turns around in a circle to show him her back and the tie.
“You can untie me if you want,” Amina suggests.
“Can’t I just rip it off?” Maarku growls and grasps the balled up knot of fabric in his hand and tugs slightly, sending a jolt of unexpected pleasure shooting straight to Amina’s core.
Gasping at the thought of his ripping the delicate fabric straight off her naked form, Amina shivers in
the cool air and shakes her head, “No.”
Fingers flying, Maarku makes quick work of the knot and holds the end of the fabric in his hands. Palm resting flat on her backside, Maarku squeezes the plump flesh slightly through the fabric as he growls out an order that has Amina’s nipples hardening beneath the tight fabric.
“Turn.”
* * *
Maarku can’t help but be entranced by Amina. The moment she removed her brown cloak and revealed the green fabric they’d fought over that first day in the market, Maarku had nearly pounced on her. He had wanted to take her right then and there. No doubt shredding the fabric to get to his prize.
Now, as she slowly spins while he holds the end of the emerald fabric tight in his hand, Maarku feels as though his cock might burst through his pants. Or worse, he’d embarrass himself and release too quickly. Tamping down his desires, Maarku reclines back into the couch. As the last scrap of fabric that holds her breasts firmly against her chest falls away, Maarku sucks in a harsh breath. Pink nipples seem to harden against the air and Maarku growls possessively at the realization that this prize is all his.
Tugging Amina deeper into the crux of his thighs, Maarku stops her turning and slowly slides his free hand up her partially bare thigh. Enjoying the way Amina shudders under his touch as his hand takes a detour and stops to squeeze her hip, Maarku grins up at her and presses a soft kiss to her other hip. Stomach now bare, Maarku plants a few more kisses before stopping to turn his gaze back on Amina. Her breathing is heavier and her chest rises and falls so innocently that Maarku feels as though her body is teasing him within an inch of his life.
“Fuck.”
Maarku growls impatiently and gives another sharp tug, not bothering with the rest of the fabric. Amina spins around a few more times until the fabric loosens completely and fully drops to the floor. Discarding the fabric in his hand, Maarku leans back to take in her naked form. At the masquerade, everything had been dark and he’d only been able to make out a dim likeness. As if on instinct of propriety, Amina’s small hands quickly reached up to cover the perfect ‘v’ between her legs.
Now, in the light of the moon breaking through the tinted glass of the hotel suites windows, Maarku sucked in an appreciative breath. Amina’s vanilla scent was everywhere. Her arousal was floating around to tease his nostrils. Licking his lips lightly, Maarku reaches up to brush her hands away and when he freezes in place, Amina let’s out a dejected sigh.
“I knew it would be too much,” she whispers as Maarku stares at her newly shaved core. Caressing the top her core where the soft supple skin is completely hairless right below her belly button, Maarku shakes his head.
“No,” He explains, “It’s perfect.”
Looking up into Amina’s face, Maarku grins at the blush that forms there and she begins rambling as she shifts nervously from one foot to another, “I’m glad you like it.”
“Did it hurt?” Maarku whispers as his hands push her legs apart slightly to get a closer look at her completely bare pussy. On the lips, a slight moisture can be seen shining in the moonlight and Maarku inhales the scent of her pussy juices. That first night, there wasn’t enough time to sample your sweet nectar, Mina. Tonight, we will change all of that.
Rising from his seat, Maarku takes Amina’s hand in his as he murmurs, “Come with me.”
“To your sex dungeon?” Amina teases as he leads her in the direction of his side of the massive hotel suite. At her words, Maarku’s cock pulses. Of course, she read those books. Her hidden sexuality and passion are so obvious in her steel grey eyes.
Chuckling, Maarku stops at the door and leans against it, as he seductively whispers in her ear, “Would you like that, Amina? Would you like it if I tied you up and fucked you like the dirty, little girl you are?”
Not waiting for her answer, Maarku leans down and presses a soft kiss to her earlobe before his teeth scrape it slightly, earning her gasp as he growls low, “Sadly, I left me chains and whips in my other suitcase.”
With his free hand, Maarku reaches behind him and opens the door to the hotel bedroom. The dark paneled floors and gold accented headboard shine brightly when Maarku flicks on the light. Not liking the overly lascivious look, he quickly dims the lights, giving the room a cozy feel.
Not pulling Amina through the doorway just yet, Maarku stares down at her and touches her chin so that her eyes instantly connect with his.
“Is this what you want, Amina?” Maarku asks before he huskily explains, “Because if it is, you need to know that once I lock the bedroom door, we won’t be leaving this room for a long time.”
She didn’t give him an answer and instead, places her palm on his chest and pushes him through the doorway. Enjoying her attempt at a powerplay, Maarku waits until she is completely inside the bedroom to lunge for her, pushing the door closed with her startled form until it snaps shut, blocking out the outside world.
Their breath intermingles as they stare up and down at one another. Maarku knows he should make the first move, but inwardly, he wants to see what his jamal has planned in that pretty head of hers.
With a whisper, Amina completely immobiles him, “Don’t hold back.”
He doesn’t intend to.
23
Someone or something is shaking Amina’s shoulder when she eventually wakes up. Sore in all the right places and eyes sleepy, Amina’s blurry vision is greeted by Alexander’s concerned face peering down at her.
Sitting up with a soft shriek, Amina clutches the bed sheet to her naked body and eyes the room wildly. Maarku is nowhere to be seen and she’s all alone. With Alexander.
“What’s going on? What did you do to Maarku?” Amina hisses, her mind fuzzy and still half-asleep. Their night had been fueled by passion and bone shattering orgasms. Amina faintly recalled Maarku taking her into the shower to clean off before she’d begun to tease and taunt him and he taught her a lesson. With his cock. In her mouth.
Blushing at the memory and the realization that Alexander was staring down at her with a funny look, Amina seethes as she hisses again, “Alexander!”
Shaking his head, Alexander’s gaze focuses on hers and his lips set in a stoic frown, “We need to leave. Now.”
“What? Why?” She asks and then her gaze moves towards the partially closed curtains. Bright light shines through the slit and Amina’s heart races as she jumps from the bed, blanket going with her in a tangled mess around her naked body.
“What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“Oh no! We need to get out of here before someone sees!” Amina cries. It isn’t expressly illegal for a woman and man to engage in a physical relationship, but as a Sheikha, she has to set an example for her people and remain chaste in the public eye.
“Too late for that,” Alexander begins and moves towards the window, parting the drapes slightly as he does, “The paparazzi must have gotten tipped off about your being here last night. Their sitting out front. I’ve got a car waiting in the loading area of the hotel. We’ll leave through the back entrance.”
“Damn it!” Amina curses and throws open Maarku’s closet door, “Where is Maarku?”
“Arguing about something with his guard in the private study,” Alexander grumbles and motions to one of Maarku’s shirts hanging up and boxer shorts on the floor, “Get dressed. There isn’t time for more pillow talk.”
Groaning at his words, Amina blushes at the thought of Alexander and Haseem waiting outside the suite while Amina and Maarku had been doing well, that. Throwing the silk shirt on and pulling the boxer shorts up, Amina only had a second to catch the brown cloak Alexander threw her. Wrapping her now tangled and messy braid under the hijab as best she could, Amina slips into her slippers and follows Alexander as he leads her out of Maarku’s bedroom.
Stepping into the living room, Amina inwardly groans at the sight of the green fabric lying idly on the couch. Her pussy clenches at the memory of Maarku unwrapping her and Amina scans the room, searchi
ng for the man she loves. She hadn’t had the courage to tell him last night. But she wanted to. Now.
Hearing raised voices coming from behind a closed door she assumes is the study, Amina starts to move in that direction, but is pulled back by Alexander, “There is no time. We need to leave now.”
“But at least let me leave him a note!” Amina says, her voice rising slightly at every tug in the direction of the exit Alexander gives her.
“I’ve already told his guard. Don’t worry about him. I need to get you to safety,” Alexander growls and quickly opens the hotel suite door. Dragging her down the hallway towards the service elevator, Amina’s nerves tingle in awareness of being watched.
“Safety? Alexander, what’s happening?” Amina asks, fearing the answer.
Once inside the elevator and pressing a button to send it to the lower levels, Alexander turns to her and grasps her comfortingly by the shoulders.
“I’ve been given new information. About your father and about your Crown. I need to get you to the palace immediately,” Alexander explains slowly.
“My father?” Amina asks confusingly and then thrashes in his arms. Once he releases her, Amina moves to the other side of the elevator, Amina spins around and glares at Alexander before ordering, “Tell me everything now.”
Shaking his head, Alexander sighs dejectedly, “I can’t yet. Not until you are safely behind the palace walls, where my team and I can keep a better eye on you. Don’t worry, your Majesty. You’ll be safe.”
Inwardly, Amina’s mind is a blurred mess of questions and confusion. One lone tear falls down her cheek as her thoughts drifted to the man in the hotel suite they’d just vacated. What would Maarku think of her now?