What if I simply killed this son of a bitch, just to help the world get rid of another asshole?
My head snapped to his direction, and the sight of his smirk made me realize he had said those things just to rile me up.
“Why do you always have to be so—-” I saw the way his dark gaze gleamed, and I had my answer. Or rather, I already had the answer to my own question, but I had just forgotten about it.
The SOB believed “angry sex” with me would be amazing, so of course he’d do what he could to make me lose my temper. He was a kinky piece of sheikh, after all. Devastatingly attractive, too, but still.
“I know you have the upper hand,” I muttered, “and I…I signed a contract—-” I barely managed to choke the words out. “But I don’t think I can go through with it.”
I felt his gaze turn towards me, but I kept my gaze stubbornly pinned to the road ahead.
“Are you a virgin?”
I didn’t want to answer that, but with the way my cheeks instantly heated up, I knew it was only a matter of time—-
“I thought so.”
The purring satisfaction in his voice had me gnashing my teeth.
“I have never had a virgin before—-”
I just couldn’t keep myself silent any longer. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going to say? I’m telling you I’ve never had sex before, and all you can do is talk like I’m something you’d have for breakfast—-”
But the sheikh simply dismissed this with a shrug of his hatefully broad shoulders. “It is, indeed, how I think of you. I wanted to eat you up the moment you opened your beautiful little mouth and called me an asshole.”
He had me so incensed the word was out before I could stop myself. “Asshole!”
And of course, this only had the damn pig laughing. “Tell me more, habibti.”
I should be hating him right now, dammit. But my hormones being the sex-crazed little fuckers that they were, the thought of him “eating” me up only had my body trembling under my dress, and I could once again feel my breasts starting to ache.
“If you are worried about the pain,” the sheikh murmured, “there is no need to be. I shall, mm…how is it that you Americans term this? I shall pop your cherry—-”
“In a way that will cause you the least amount of discomfort.”
“Patience, my Story. It shall and will happen tonight—-”
“I’d cut your dick off,” I snarled, “before I let that happen.”
But the sheikh’s lips only curved in indulgent amusement, and I had to curl my fingers against the urge to give him a good, hard smack on his too-beautiful face. He obviously wasn’t taking any of my threats seriously, and why would he?
The contract Dahlia had signed on my “behalf” made the balance of power between us exceedingly clear, and if this guy wanted me to jump out of the window, I was basically obliged to ask, “From what floor?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to try thinking of the situation objectively. The sheikh might be an asshole, but he was also the most devastatingly handsome asshole I had ever met, and I knew without a doubt sex with him wouldn’t be hell.
As much as it pained me to admit this, I knew it was likely to be the opposite, and sex with the SOB would be pretty much the closest to heaven I’d get. The attraction between us was just too powerful, it was honestly rather surprising we had managed to keep ourselves from tearing each other’s clothes off this long.
But even so.
To give in just like that was a hard pill to swallow. I had principles, dammit. And it just didn’t feel fucking right—-
“How about a compromise?”
The words, spoken out of the blue, had me shooting up in my seat. I checked to see if he was joking, but the sheikh appeared serious.
“What kind of compromise?” I asked finally.
My breath caught.
“You will not have to worry about losing your maidenhood for three days—-”
“In exchange for one condition—-”
“I knew it.” I knew it was too good to be true, and just as expected, there was a fucking catch. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Give it to me.”
His gaze gleamed. “Actually, Ms. Teller…it’s the other way around.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“You will be the one giving me something.”
“You will pleasure me now, with your hand or your mouth – it is entirely up to you. But it has to be now or never.”
It’s been a while since you last called. Hope everything’s going great with you.
Call me when you’re free.
Message received at 1959h from Dad
Un-fucking-believable, I found myself thinking for the nth time. But if you think it was the sheikh’s sheer gall that had me stumped, then you’d be wrong. That the sheikh could come up with shit that was guaranteed to make me blow my top was a given. That was his kick, after all.