“You are alright now?”

The sheikh’s soft tone caught me off guard, but it was the flash of emotion in his eyes that had me capable of only nodding weakly in response. Shit. That couldn’t be what I thought it was. Could it? I mean, even if we did have a connection, and I was, as he said, different…that flash in his eyes couldn’t be the fucking L-word. Right?

“Then may it be my turn to ask a question?”

His words were the distraction I needed, and I said quickly, “Fire away.” No doubt, since he had just opened up about his personal life, he wanted me to do the same thing, too. And that was fine. Whatever he asked, I’d answer, whether it had to do with Dahlia, Greg, or—-

“Did you do as I asked?”

“Huh?”

“The panties, habibti.”

Oh.

Shit.

I had forgotten about that.

“Did you wear them to class? Did you stay wet for me?”

And just like that, the game was on again, but this time, even though I still did think he was an asshole, it wasn’t like before. Because I now understood where his streak of cruelty was coming from, I found myself able to derive more pleasure from his words, and when I saw the way his gaze was hungrily devouring the sight of my trembling body…

Oh God.

And I heard myself ask, “What if I did?”

“Then you’ll have a reward,” he purred.

“Is it something you’re sure I’d like?”

“We’ll see, shall we?” A smile played over his lips. “It will be your choice, after all.”

Lust began to glitter in his eyes, and my heart started hammering again. Whatever those choices were, I had a feeling it would have me end up in hot water again—-

“You can ask for my name…or you can tell me to make you cum with my mouth.”

And I was right.

Like, seriously, what kind of choice was that? His name or his mouth? Just thinking of it had my lips feeling chapped and dry, and I saw the sheikh’s nostrils flare when I wetted them unthinkingly.

Shiiiiiiiiiiit.

“What shall it be, habibti?”

The sheikh’s voice was no longer smooth. It was now low and rough with desire, and fuck if that didn’t make me lose my mind as I heard myself say, “Cock.”

Hey Siri.

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Hmm. I don’t have an answer for that. Is there something else I can help you with?

Chapter Twelve

The cocky piece of sheikh didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he simply let his hot, dark eyes do all the talking, and man, oh man, but it was effective, too, with the way I found myself trembling even harder under his lust-filled gaze.

Hot and bothered didn’t even cover it now. I was practically feverish with desire, and when he took my hand, the thought of resisting didn’t even occur to me. I allowed the sheikh to draw me back to the bedroom, and when he sat on the edge of the bed, I let him pull me close until I was standing between his legs.

My gaze drifted down, just in time to see the towel wrapped around his hips unknot itself before gradually falling open.

Ooooh.

The next thing I knew, I was staring straight at his fully engorged dick, and damn if it didn’t seem so, so much larger and longer than I allowed myself to remember. I mean, seriously, was this for real? Or had he started taking some kind of enlargement pill since the last time?

My eyes widened when I saw him reach for his dick, and a helpless whimper spilled past my lips when he started stroking himself. Who knew, who the fuck knew watching a man stroking himself could be this hot?

Forget about being feverish, dammit.

I was practically delirious, and my quivering pussy so damn wet I could feel my panties getting soaked for the second time around.

“So you want this, habibti?” the sheikh purred.

All I could do was glare at him, both of us knowing that any denial would be a pathetic lie. I had two more days left with my reprieve, and instead I had asked him to fuck me in advance.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to avoid hurting you,” the sheikh murmured. “Then again…” His dark gaze glinted. “I can’t say I don’t look forward to seeing you bleed a little once I breach you.”

“Asshole.”

“It would be good if I could make you cry a little, too.”

“ASSHOLE.”

But of course, this only made the sheikh smile…until he started stroking himself faster, and I found myself staring in fascination at the way his jaw gradually clenched.

“Story.”

The rough rasp of his voice startled me into looking up, and my breath caught at the taut look of raw, stark desire etched over his broodingly handsome face. “Strip.”

The command in his voice was unmistakable, but something made me hesitate, and seeing this, his voice took on a sharp edge of warning.


Tags: Marian Tee Romance
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