Her Improper Desire, page 2
That seems like as good an excuse as any, and I nod eagerly. "Yes, that's, um, right."
"Such as?"
In for a pound, in for a penny, I tell myself, and I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. "You're...er...supposedly good friends with Sheikh Altair of Ramil."
"We are."
That he bothers to confirm this is a surprise. I'm confused, but then a moment later, I'm suspicious. Is he telling me this to see if I'm going to spread rumors about him later on?
"Well, that's, um, all I've heard—-"
"I doubt it. There must be something else that you find concerning?"
The incessant line of questioning makes me feel resentful and powerless. He's already interrogating me like I'm some kind of criminal, but then...isn't that what I am?
I entered his room without permission, and the treaty between my country and his pretty much dooms my chances for due process. Even if he were to kill me right this very moment, he'll still come out a hero in the eyes of the law.
"I don't like being made to wait."
And I don't like being threatened, I wish I can yell at him, but since I'm not brave (and stupid) enough to go up against him like that, I tell myself to simply get this over with as quickly as I can. If he wants to hear more rumors about him for whatever reason, then so be it.
"I've read somewhere that you and your brothers have come here in search of a bride—-"
"I'm not in search of one," he interrupts, "since I already found mine a year ago."
Chapter Two
The words are completely unexpected, and my brain goes haywire for a second. There's something about those words that I need to process, but what exactly that is escapes me.
"Is there anything else?"
"I also heard that you're here to do business with Mr. Leventis." I say the words without thinking, but the moment I see the sheikh's gaze glint, I immediately regret it. Oh God. I'll never forgive myself if I've gotten Damen and Mairi into trouble—-
"You speak of Damen as if you are personally familiar with him." The fury in his eyes is unmistakable, and it's enough to dissuade me from saying anything but the truth.
"I'm close to his wife. That's all. I promise."
The sheikh only looks at me, and the tension in the air becomes suffocating.
"She used to be my teacher in college," I add desperately, but the sheikh continues to study me in silence, and I'm nearly overcome with this crazy urge to self-destruct. Should I just run away and leave—-
"That's a pity."
The urge to do foolish things vanish at his words, and now I'm just confused. What exactly is a pity?
"Your friendship with her may make things complicated, but that will be entirely up to you."
I can only stare at him, still unable to comprehend a single word he's said.
"But in the meantime, my little vixen..."
I'm starting to feel really feverish and restless again, and it's making me question my hearing. Did he really say 'my little vixen'? Or maybe I heard it wrong, and the sheikh actually said 'my little villain'?
"I'd like a taste of you."
That's it. Something is definitely wrong with my ears, since he can't possibly have said—-
"Now."
That one word tells me two things.
Firstly: I did hear him right.
The sheikh actually said what he said—-
I'd like a taste of you.
And secondly: this royal son of a bitch is out of his fucking head if he thinks I'll let give him what he wants.
I turn around to make a run for it, but I've barely taken a step when the sheikh comes for me—-
Aaaaaah!
All I can do is scream as his big hard body slams into me, and I suddenly end up with my wrists behind my back, and my heaving breasts squashed up against the door.
God, no!
His hand clamps down over my mouth before I can scream, and as his powerful form presses harder against mine, all I can do is cry out against his palm as a sensory overload of intangibles bombard me from every direction.
There's the heat of his breath tickling my hair. The invincible wall of muscles weighing down on my spine and the sinfully earthy scent of his skin. Every one of these things are dizzyingly new to me, and the weight of it all threatens to swallow me whole.
I don't understand.
Is this fear I'm feeling or something even more terrifying?
"Here are your choices, Seven."
The sheikh croons into my ear like he has all the time in the world to torture and play with me, and the thought makes me shudder and burn.
God, oh God, what the hell is happening to my body?
My skin should be crawling by now, but the sound of his voice only makes me inexplicably sensitive to the blatant rawness of his masculinity.
"If you look at each corner of this room—-"
My gaze is already darting to the corners as he speaks, and I feel sick to my stomach at what I see. There are security cameras everywhere.
Everywhere, dammit!
"You understand, don't you?"
I wish I didn't, but I do.
"I have the necessary evidence to get you arrested...if that is what you choose."
A thrumming silence follows, and even though I hate myself for taking the bait, I hear myself ask stiltedly in the end—-
"What's my other choice?"
I feel his lips curve against my hair, and just imagining the sheikh flash a dangerous smile almost has me whimpering.
Why?
Why aren't all these things not making my skin scrawl?
"Your other choice, my beauty—-"
Even though I know those words are nothing but a lie, they still make me feel like I'm floating, and I hate it. I hate him. Really!
"—-is me."
All I can do is gasp right after, with the sheikh spinning me around without warning, and I find myself suddenly confronted by the blaze of lust in the sheikh's eyes...just as something long, thick, and unbelievably hard starts pulsing between my legs.
"Which do you choose, Seven?"
Oh God.
I wait desperately for fear to kick me back into my senses. I want - no, I need to be scared just like I was a while ago, when I thought he was some psychotic gunman about to kill me.
To be afraid of him means my brain is still working, but as the seconds tick by, and with his golden eyes never leaving me, the fear just won't come back—-
Why? Why? Why?
Instead of being scared, I find myself pummeled by a fast-rushing plethora of sensual forces, and this time, each and every one of them is blisteringly shameful. My nipples have suddenly puckered into life. My breasts are swollen with need. And between my legs is this creamy flow of moisture that makes me want to scream and moan and cry and swear—-
I don't understand.
"Do you want to be arrested?"
My brain demands one thing, but my body clamors for the other, and oh God-—
The sheikh's fingers cup my chin, and I feel like I'm drowning under his gaze.
"Or do you choose me?"
My lips part, but even though no words come out, the way his golden eyes glitter tells me I don't need to say a thing. He hears the desires of my flesh just absolutely fine—-
Oooooooooooooh!
I end up gasping yet again, just gasping like an idiot as the sheikh goes down on his knees and pushes the tight skirt of my uniform up to my waist. My senses reel, and I stare at my surroundings in a daze.
Is this really happening?
I'm in my workplace. And this is one of our hotel rooms. Same fancy wallpaper. Same carpet. Same furniture. And yet everything feels completely unfamiliar, and all because I have the sheikh now gripping the lacy sides of my panties.
God, oh God.
He slowly draws the scrap of fabric down my legs, and I actually find myself wriggling like a helpful little fool. My gaze drifts down as the heat of his breath blows against the bare, moist flesh of my pussy, and I grow even more disoriented.
How in the world have we ended up here?
No one has ever seen me naked before, and no one has certainly ever stared at my pussy the way the sheikh is doing now. I've never even been alone in a room with a man, and for these things to happen with Sheikh Saif of all people make me feel like all of this is just a dream.
And maybe, that's how I should think of it.
This is just a dream.
Just a dream.
And I find myself repeating it feverishly in my mind as the sheikh's rough, callused hands curve around the cheeks of my ass.
Just a dream, Seven.
Just a dream.
His fingers tighten around my bottom, and I see his gaze turn possessive when he hears me catch my breath.
Just...a...aaaaaaaaaah!
His dark head bends as he runs his tongue slowly down my slit, and I can only moan as my entire body melts at the feel of his mouth on my quivering flesh.
Sheikh Saif has what he wanted.
He's finally has his taste of me, and I could never have imagined a pleasure such as this. His tongue moves up and down the drenched, swollen flesh of my folds, and all I can do is helplessly alternate between moans and whimpers.
Every stroke of his tongue is like a mini explosion between my legs, and the sound his tongue makes, oh God...
It's the most sinfully lewd sound, and I just know I'll remember it for the rest of my life.
Pressure starts to build from within me when his hands leave my bottom, and another desperate little gasp breaks out of my throat as I feel his fingers carefully part my folds wide open...and wider...and wider until I'm all stretched out.
"S-Sheikh..."
The word comes out of nowhere, and I'm immediately aghast and bewildered, terrified and mortified. This is supposed to be a punishment, so why did I—-
"Sheeeeeeeeikh!"
I end up crying it out this time, with his tongue stabbing my pussy, and oh God, oh God, oh God—-
As his tongue thrusts in and out of my folds, I find myself blindly reaching for the lush ebony locks of his hair—-
"Sheikh, oh God, sheikh—-"
My fingers tighten its grip as his tongue seems to reach deeper and deeper inside of me. I feel like I'm about to implode, and oh God, oh God, oh God—-
It happens in a blink, the pleasure so intense that my body would have crumbled to the floor if not for the sheikh still gripping my thighs, and I find myself helplessly cumming in his mouth.
This...is just a dream.
Just a dream, Seven.
It's nothing but a dream.
My orgasm lasts so much longer than I'm capable of withstanding, and by the time the tremors begin to fade, everything feels like a blur.
How can so much wetness come out of me?
Maybe, this is really a dream?
The sheikh sweeps me up in his arms and gently lowers me to a couch. I know I should take this chance to leave, but I just sit there like a fool, and all I do is blink when the sheikh comes back with a washcloth.
He crouches down, and a blush steals over me from head to toe when he starts to clean me up.
"Don't—"
"Quiet."
The words whip out like a royal command, and I actually find myself shutting up even as every sweep of the cloth over my flesh makes me want to writhe. What the hell is wrong with me?
When he's all done, Sheikh Saif reaches for my skirt before smoothing the fabric down my thighs, and I pray to God that's the end of it.
But it's not.
When he straightens up to his full height, I lift my gaze just in time to see the sheikh wipe a drop of cum off the corner of his lip.
A dream, I desperately try to convince myself, but then the sheikh's golden eyes lock with mine as he licks the creamy bit off his finger, and I know I'm just fooling myself.
How can I think this is just a dream when seeing that has made my whole body come alive, and I now find myself yearning for more?
You've lost your mind, Seven!
He offers his hand to help me up, but the confusing swirl of emotions inside of me makes me slap his hand away, and I get to my feet on my own.
"Can I go now?"
Instead of answering, the sheikh bends down...and that's when I see him take my panties off the floor.
"Give me—-" I reach one hand out, but it's the sheikh who pushes my hand away this time. He does so gently, I'll give him that at least, but we both know it's payback for what I did earlier. He even waits until our gazes meet...just before smirking right at my face as he shoves my panties into his pocket.
Shit!
I know I can sue him for harrassment, but since he can also sue me for trespassing—-
"This makes us all even, right?" And because I don't want to get into trouble with him again, I add grudgingly, "Your Highness."
The sheikh's golden eyes turn hooded as he studies me, but I manage to keep still and stare at him like what just happened between us is already a thing of the past.
Another minute passes, and I decide to take matters into my own hands.
"I'll take that as a yes, Your Highness." I bow without meeting his eyes, and I turn around without looking back.
A part of me wonders if he'd stop me from leaving, but I don't hear him move even as the door closes behind me.
This obviously means the sheikh has also written me off as a thing of the past, and that's absolutely fine. I am not going to waste a second of my life thinking about what-ifs. The sooner I forget the royal SOB, the better...and that's why I find myself making another stupid mistake even before the day is over.
Chapter Three
His name is Hal.
He works at the front desk, and he's really good at it, too. Everyone loves him, and by that I really mean everyone. Parents and their kids. Young and old couples. Businessmen and backpackers.
Like I said, he's just everyone's darling, and the fact that he's part-Taiwanese, part-American, and half-Syrian is a bonus. It's like he's this gorgeous, walking advertisement for United Nations, and while he has all the girls working at the hotel swooning over him, Hal only seems to care about his job...and me.
He asks me out every once in a while, and I always turn him down with a self-deprecating joke or two. Sometimes, I'd tell him I can never go on a date with him because I don't want people to have another reason to bash and bully me. Other times, I'd tell him it's because he's too pretty, and so I'm also pretty sure he can't be serious about me.
Tonight, however, Hal's caught me at a vulnerable moment.
With memories of Sheikh Saif still disturbing my thoughts, I find myself impulsively saying yes, and the next thing I know he's waiting outside the girls' locker room while I take my shower and change into a knitted blue dress...and fresh panties, of course.
"You look gorgeous," Hal says as I join him.
"But not as gorgeous as you."
Hal falls into step next to me as we head for the hotel's employee exit, and I catch him looking at me in amusement.
"What?"
"You're determined not to take me seriously, aren't you?"
"Only because I can't afford to fall in love with you."
"Why not?"
"It's a secret."
Hal laughs, and the sound has a remarkable number of heads turning towards us.
"Oh dear." I feign a look of distress. "People seem to be talking about us," I whisper with a shake of my head.
"I'm glad," he whispers back. "This way, other guys will have second thoughts before hitting on you."
"But what about me?" I ask plaintively. "I'm the one who has to worry about all of your fangirls hating on me. I'm pretty sure my inbox will be full of death threats come morning."
I wait for Hal's comeback...until I realize nothing's forthcoming, and I look at him sheepishly. "Oops. Was it too much?"
"Actually...I was thinking you're wasted in housekeeping. With how good you are at buttering people up, you should be up at the front desk with me."
"But I'm telling the truth." I flutter my lashes up at him to make him laugh, but instead there's a flash of emotion in Hal's blue eyes that makes me realize I'm skating dangerously on thin ice.
Shit.
The only reason I can banter with him like this is because I genuinely believed he hasn't any feelings for me. Now I'm thinking I might be wrong...and I realize I am wrong when Hal takes me to one of our hotel's fancy in-house restaurants.
Oh no!
Everyone knows how adorably thrifty Hal is, and the fact that he's ready to treat me to an expensive dinner breaks my heart. The waiter comes to take our orders, and my regret turns into full-blown guilt when Hal insists on ordering the steak set for both of us.
That's two hundred dollars each, plus tax!
I clear my throat and look at him with an awkward smile as soon as the waiter leaves. "Um, Hal?"
He smiles at me, and I just feel like the shittiest person in the world. I should never have gone out on a date with him, dammit.
"What is it?"
"I..." My phone vibrates before I can say another word, and my eyes widen when I see the message notification that pops out.
You have two minutes.
I click on the message, and the photo attached below shows the restaurant's posh-looking ladies' room.
Be just a second late...
The message comes with another attachment, and this time the photo shows me in the sheikh's room, my eyes closed in pleasure while he fucks me with his tongue.
Shit, shit, shit!
Hal looks at me in surprise when I jump out of my chair like my ass is on fire. "Everything okay?"
"I...um...I think I have my period?"
Hal's eyes widen. "Uh...right. Do you need me to—-"
I grab my purse and force myself to smile. "I'll be right back."
"Sure, take your time." Hal looks concerned, and that only makes me hate myself even more. I really need to set things straight between us a.s.a.p., but in the meantime—-
The ladies' room is empty when I step inside, but I'm not buying it for a second, and my heart just pounds harder and faster as I force myself to move forward.
There are four cubicles total, and unlike most toilets, these ones have ceiling-to-floor doors made of frosted glass. There's no way to see what's going on inside, and if I remember correctly, it's also totally soundproof.
