After a lengthy moment of silence, the sheikh released a ragged sigh. “And I love you just as much, ukhayyah. But you will also be the death of me, and I must punish you for that.”
“No!” But it was only a half-hearted protest for both of them knew the truth. They were each other’s slaves, and every command and punishment between them had always been and would always be founded on love.
She tried to get away, but the sheikh was again too fast. She tried her best to struggle, but there was no overcoming the sheikh’s powerful strength. In moments, he had stripped all her clothes off, and she was lying horizontal on his lap.
Over her cry of pleasure and pain, the sheikh said curtly, “That’s for making me feel like I aged a hundred years overnight.”
“That’s for being so foolishly trusting, accompanying strangers into a car like an idiot.”
“That’s for forcing me to say sentimental garbage in front of the entire world—-”
“I didn’t force you—-aaah!” Her cry of protest turned into another moan of pain and pleasure as his hand connected with her bottom. She tried to wriggle out of his hold, but it was a futile effort, and he slapped her so many times that she had lost count. They were never too hard to make her cry tears of pain, but they were hard enough that the lines between pain and pleasure began to blur.
Dazed, she could only allow the sheikh to arrange her limbs on the bed. She found herself on all fours and her throat drying as the sheikh slowly divested himself of his clothes in front of her. As always, the impressive sight of his powerful naked body took her breath away, and her entire frame shuddered when she felt the sheikh climb back to bed and position himself behind her.
Wordlessly, the sheikh began playing with her pussy from behind. He teased the folds until they were swollen and then tweaked her clit until it started to throb. Just when she was about to beg him to take her, he whispered into her ear, “I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers, ukhayyah.”
His fingers left her, and he said in a hard voice, “Now.”
Slowly, she reached for herself, making sure she didn’t lose her balance before sliding one finger into the moist warmth of her insides. Her finger slipped easily and she moaned at the feel of penetration, the knowledge that it was so at the sheikh’s command adding to her pleasure.
“Two fingers now, ukhayyah.”
Shuddering, she did as asked and whimpered again as the feel of penetration became more intense.
“And now, for the last stage of your punishment…”
She tensed. Her punishment wasn’t over yet?
“I’m going to take your ass.” Behind her, she felt the sheikh slowly rub the head of his cock at the folds of her bottom, lubricating the hole.
Gulping with a mixture of dread and eagerness, she stammered, “Your Highness, I…”
“Relax, milady. Have I ever failed to pleasure you?”
Slowly, she shook her head.
“Then you should know tonight will not be any different.” Bending forward, his chest pressing against her back, he whispered into her ear, “Your sheikh is going to fuck your ass, and you’re going to love it.”
Such dirty words, made dirtier by the fact that they came from the sheikh’s noble mouth—-
It was enough to have her whimpering out loud, and she knew then he was right. Her beautiful, cruel sheikh was going to take her ass and she was going to love it.
The End…or is it?
Well, for Ella and Khal, it’s happy ever after.
But as for Mik’hail…
Flip to the next page if you wish to know more about the other sheikh.
Once Upon A Time
There was a strong and handsome sheikh who was betrothed since birth. The girl he was promised to marry was alluring and exotic, passionate and intelligent. She was a woman certainly fit to be the sheikh’s bride and a queen in the future. The sheikh thought so, too, until the day his betrothed’s family came to his kingdom, and he met her.
His betrothed’s sister.
“YOUR HIGHNESS, THEY are here.” Aretha, his betrothed, touched his back, and Mik’hail turned immediately, curling an arm around her waist so they could present a united front.
The day had arrived that his betrothed’s family was to come live with them in his palace, and the sheikh was genuinely looking forward to welcome Aretha’s kin.
Her parents were the first ones he saw, a distinguished-looking couple he had heard only good things about. Lord Richard had known the late king during their years in Eton, and it was because of the the two men’s friendship that their children’s betrothal had come to be.
“Please.” The sheikh shook his head when Lord Richard was about to bow, and Lady Elizabeth had already raised her skirts to curtsy. “Formalities are not needed.” Instead, Mik’hail came down from the dais to shake hands with Aretha’s father and bowed in greeting to his future mother-in-law. “We are to be a family, after all.”