A part of me had always known that it would never have worked between us, and maybe, that part had also known…

One day, an asshole like the sheikh would come along and fuck his way into my heart.

If Satan had a chance to come up with his own version of soulmates, I had a feeling that would’ve been the sheikh and me, with the way we were so imperfectly perfect for each other. Most girls would have taken exception to the sheikh’s refusal to yield his name while most guys in his place wouldn’t even have bothered to question what happened to me back in high school, and an even smaller percentage would’ve had the resources to unearth the psycho twin I had buried in my closet.

So the sheikh and me?

We’re chips from the same messed-up block, and we got each other in the ways that mattered…because I loved him, and although he had never said so, I rather suspected he felt the same way, too. Asshole probably refused to say it just to piss me off, if the past week was anything to go by.

We were in the movies one time, and the asshole suddenly ordered me to go down on my knees and give him a blow job. I told him I’d rather chop his dick off, but he had simply chuckled and told me I had no choice. Because you love me, habibti. Don’t you?

And then there was that day he had asked me to join him for a business lunch, and he had introduced me to the other man in a way that had made me want to give his beautiful face a lovely taste of my fist.

‘Adrian,’ the sheikh had drawled, ‘this is the woman I’m currently trying to implant my seed in.’

And when the other guy had started coughing in a not-so-subtle effort to control his laughter, the sheikh had assured him there was nothing to worry about. She’s in love with me, she told me herself, and so she’s inclined to forgive mostly everything.

Even though days had already passed since then, the memory was still enough to make me cringe, and when I heard the bathroom door open and saw the sheikh saunter inside, beautiful, tanned, and completely naked—-

I just couldn’t help it.

Asshole!

Water splashed over the edges of the whirlpool bath as I hurriedly grabbed one of the shampoo bottles and threw it at him.

Bang!

I actually got lucky this time, with the plastic bottle hitting the edge of his head, and I was right away treated with the lovely sound of the sheikh swearing.

“Goddammit, Story. I think I’m bleeding.”

I paled. “Seriously?” I was already halfway out of the bath when I heard him chuckle, and I realized too late he had just been messing with me.

YEARGH!

I immediately started striking his chest the moment he joined me in the bath, and God, when he just kept laughing, I was so fucking annoyed I tried yanking on his hair next.

“Stop that, habibti. You know you cannot truly bear seeing the man you love hurt?”

“Wanna bet?”

And this time, I managed to scratch his left cheek with my nails, hard enough to have him grunt…but unfortunately not just enough to get rid of the wicked mirth that still glittered in his gaze.

Fucking piece of sheikh!

I tried kneeing him under the water, but the sheikh only shook his head. “Enough.” Settling down on one of the built-in seats, he leaned back against the wall before hauling me towards him.

I fell on his lap…and impaled myself on his cock in the process.

AAAAH!

I saw him smirk when, instead of pulling away, I was unable to resist pushing further down—-

Oh God.

His cock was fully embedded inside of me now, and it just felt so, so, soooooo fucking good.

My hands instinctively curved over the muscular slope of his shoulders, and I could only shudder when I felt his head bend close—-

And then he was whispering into my ear.

“Ride me.”

White-hot desire consumed me from within, and the last bit of my sanity slipped away as I found myself doing as he asked.

I rode him hard, rode him well, rode him so good that in just a matter of minutes, I could feel his own control slipping, with the way his own movements had become as wild as mine.

Erotic sounds echoed and bounced against the marbled walls.

The sheikh’s rough growls blending with my breathy moans.

The slap of our bodies as we rocked against each other.

And finally, my cries of pleasure when I felt myself starting to reach breaking point—-

God, God, God…

His mouth crushed mine just as I hit my peak, and I could only helplessly kiss him back and let him suck on his tongue while orgasmic spasms had my body buckling again and again.

Just so fucking good.

God.

Just so damn good, and when I felt the sheikh stiffen—-


Tags: Marian Tee Romance
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