He was so, so tense, and I couldn’t understand why, but something told me it wasn’t anger. It was something else, something worse…
Some kind of feminine instinct whispered me to look down, and my eyes slowly trailed downward—-
And that was when I saw it.
The prominent bulge in his pants, the unmistakable sign of his arousal.
He was hard, and he was huge, huger than I ever thought a man could be.
The sheikh wanted me.
The nobody he hated.
I whispered, “You’re sick.”
“And you’re playing the innocent.” The sheikh’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You want me, too.” I watched his gaze slide down, lingering on my breasts, and that was when I felt it.
Oh God, how long had it been like this?
My nipples poking against the silk of my gown, my breasts threatening to swell above the deep neckline.
His eyes moved lower, and that was when I felt it, the hot creamy moisture dripping out of me, soaking my panties—-
I snapped my legs together, as if hoping it would be enough to stop me from being wet.
My head jerked up when I heard the sheikh laugh, a rich beautiful sound that made my entire body shiver.
Oh God, it was just a laugh.
A simple darn laugh and yet I could feel myself coming to life just by hearing it?
This was wrong. This was completely wrong. He was the king’s heir, the sheikh I hated and who hated me back. So why did he affect me so?
When the sheikh suddenly cupped my chin, I tried to wrench away, but this only made his grip tighten.
His head started to lower, and I couldn’t help tensing.
I wanted to run away, but I stayed put, not wanting him to think he had frightened me so.
His lips curved, and my body responded like it was struck by lightning.
“You’ve had your first lesson tonight, Lady Ella.”
Bending his head, the sheikh licked the corner of my lip. “Do not disobey me again.”
And then he was walking away.
“Lady Ella, Your Highness.” The guard studiously avoided looking my way as he announced my arrival, and I pretended just as studiously that I didn’t notice him doing so. These daily meetings of ours were more and more humiliating. With Charles assigned to guard the sheikh’s study during the day, it was impossible for the soldier not to know what was going on inside.
“Let her in.”
The door opened, and I stalked inside militantly.
“Marching instead of walking, milady?” The sheikh was already walking towards the couch.
I really shouldn’t stand for this. I should tell Ruth about it and report him to the authorities. Maybe I should even hold a press conference so that the whole world would finally wake up and realize Sheikh Khal of the kingdom of Kivr was anything but charming.
I watched the sheikh rid himself of his jacket before laying it carefully over the back of the couch. I watched him roll up his sleeves, revealing the muscles in his arms, and my heart galloped.
God, I was so sick.
Those muscles were why a certain part of my body was stinging painfully, and here I was getting excited at the sight of it—-
The sheikh turned my way all of a sudden, and his lips curved in a smirk when he caught me staring. “Am I getting you excited?”
Yes, I thought unhappily, and more so now, with that languid purr in his voice.
But even so, I managed to snarl out, “Shut up.”
“I will count that against you, too, milady—-”
I gasped. “Are you serious?”
But the sheikh didn’t even glance my way. Settling himself on the couch, he made an elegant and powerful picture, his broad shoulders well defined by his silk shirt and his trousers molding perfectly to his muscular legs.
He patted his lap, once.
And oh God, just that one gesture, and it started, the moisture between my legs, dripping ever so slowly into my underwear.
“Come and receive your punishment like a good girl, ukhayyah.”
The words had me wetter and hotter. My brain screamed at me to run away, but my body seemed to have its own accord, my limbs working as if drawn to the sheikh’s presence.
He didn’t have to force me to bend over his legs, my bottom up in the air. It was all me.
My body jerked, more out of surprise than anything else. It was always like that with the first slap.
“That’s for being deliberately disobedient,” the sheikh said curtly. “I have received reports about your misconduct, the way you keep insisting on flouting the rules because you’re American—-”
“But I am American,” I said defiantly.
“But are you in America, milady? If I am in your country and I spit on your flag, would my action be considered excusable simply because I am not American?”
The second spank stung as well, but it was also arousing. I didn’t understand why and I had ceased trying to figure it out. All I knew was that the sheikh had woken up something twisted inside me, something that yearned for his touch on my body – whatever way it took.