Her Seductive Enemy, page 3
Chapter Three
The sheikh took a prowling step forward, but this time Anisah forced herself to stay still. Something told her that things would only get painfully worse if he realized how nervous he was making her.
“How about a compromise, anisdi...”
Anisah’s toes curled anew at the velvety rasp of the sheikh’s voice
“I promise not to call you Tory for the rest of the night...”
Aaah. Even his voice was a temptation in itself, like sin coated in dark chocolate, and if she were the suspicious sort, Anisah would have genuinely believed he was an incubus reborn in human form.
“If you grant me one dance...”
She desperately fought against the dangerously intoxicating lure hidden deep in his words. One dance, he said. And yet the way he was looking at her told Anisah that it was impossible to end with just one dance.
“Say yes, anisdi.”
And now his voice had turned into a purr, and no matter how hard she tried to resist, her senses still swam at the sound.
“What harm could one dance do?”
“Everything, sheikh.” It took everything Anisah had to cling to the last remnants of her common sense.
The sheikh’s tone turned mocking. “You speak as if a dance with me is fraught with peril.”
“That’s because it is, Your Highness.”
“Would you at least care to elaborate?”
Oh, heaven help her, but he was looking at her that way again!
“Stop that!”
“Stop what?”
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “You never used to pay attention to me—-”
The sheikh smirked. “Is that a complaint?” A moment later, and his hooded gaze dipped low, and oh curse him, but he was doing it again, and it was all she could do not to wrap her arms around her body and admit the shameful truth that he was making her feel so shamefully wet.
“Just one dance,” the incubus masquerading as the sheikh whispered, “and I promise nothing bad will happen.”
Oh, if only he really were a sex-mad demon, then she would have known what to do, and he would be exorcised out of her life once and for all.
But unfortunately for her...Tarif Al-Atassi was all too human, and she had a bad feeling it was only a matter of time before all hope was lost and she would find it impossible to resist him.
One dance, one word, one touch – that was all it took for any woman, even her, to fall for a playboy’s trap, and even though she was not in love with Tarif Al-Atassi, Anisah also knew better than to pit her inexperienced self against the sheikh’s seductive prowess.
Since indirect rejections didn’t work on the sheikh, Anisah took a deep breath and decided to switch tactics. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot, will not, and will never dance with you.”
“For what reason?”
She lifted her chin. “Because you are not my type, sheikh.” There. She had said it. Hopefully, he would go away and leave her in peace now.
Unfortunately, it only caused the sheikh to throw his head back with a laugh.
“What a rare, improper thing for you to say, Tory.” Tarif shook his head. “You have quite the impressive knack for taking me unawares, anisdi.”
“I believe I’ll take that as a compliment, sheikh,” she said coolly.
“You should,” he answered easily. “But maybe take it as a warning as well – because this talent of yours only makes me want you more.”
Oh! Her stupid heart skipped a beat, her body jerked, and she forgot for one embarrassing moment what she had prepared to say.
His eyes gleamed. “Cat got your tongue, Tory?”
His words were something of a relief, giving her something else to focus on, and she said sharply, “Please stop calling me that. People might misunderstand—-”
“They won’t.”
“And you can be so sure of this how?” she asked scornfully.
“Because there will be nothing to misunderstand.” The sheikh’s tone, on the other hand, was calm and laconic even. “I am known to be very possessive, and I doubt there is a man in this world who will be so foolish as to call you in the same manner. You are Tory to me and only to me—-”
Anisah gaped at the sheikh. “Are you out of your mind?”
“With lust for you? Most assuredly so.”
Aaargh! She could feel her entire body blushing at his words, and she asked in a mortified voice, ““Will you please stop uttering such things?”
“Why should I? Because it’s not proper?”
“Yes,” she affirmed with relief. At long last, the sheikh understood—-
“Being proper ceases to be virtue if it hinders you from being true to yourself, my sweet.”
Oh curse this man to the abyss and back!
“It is the truth—-”
“Interesting you’d say that,” he interjected, “considering that everything you’ve said in the past fifteen minutes has been a lie.”
An outraged gasp escaped Anisah at the unexpected accusation. “Excuse me?” How in the world had their conversation come to having her character questioned?
“Are you denying it?”
“I am not a liar!”
“Then tell me what you truly think of me,” Tarif invited lazily. He saw her lips tighten in response, and his lips curved into a taunting smile. “Afraid?”
Indignation flared inside of her, and Anisah’s chin automatically lifted. “Of course not!”
“Then why not speak the truth?”
“Because it’s the proper—-” She caught herself in time, but it was too late.
“Proper to lie, you mean?”
The sound of repressed laughter in the sheikh’s tone broke Anisah’s already tenuous hold on her temper, and she found herself snarling, “My reputation is everything to me—-”
“Is that your way of saying that one dance with me can cause your reputation harm?”
“Yes!” Finally, hallelujah, he had seen the—-
“Because you find me irresistibly attractive?”
Color burst in Anisah’s cheeks at the way he had so skillfully twisted her words. “I did not mean that at all!”
Tarif sighed. “And yet another lie—-”
“I am not lying!”
The sheikh shook his head. “But of course you are.”
She almost stomped her foot in frustration, hissing, “Stop this, Your Highness!”
But the sheikh’s lips only twitched in response at her furious exclamation, and now even the last vestige of her self-discipline broke.
Oh, curse him!
Anisah found herself no longer caring one bit of what was or wasn’t proper. All she wanted was to get rid of the too cocky look on the sheikh’s face, and this spurred her to say wrathfully, “If you want the truth so much, Your Highness, then I’ll give it to you.”
And after one deep breath, she let loose every single critical thought she had of the sheikh.
I think you’re so full of yourself!
I think you’re undeserving of the king’s trust!
I think you spend too much time fooling around, and I think all you’re good for is adding unnecessary glamor to the kingdom!
Words of vitriol continued to pour out of her throat, with Anisah’s rage-fueled rant only ending when she had to gasp for breath.
And when she did—-
“Is that all, anisdi?” the sheikh asked very, very politely.
Horror instead of triumph filled her, and Anisah’s hands flew to cover her mouth in dismayed shock.
Oh dear heavens!
Why had she let herself act in such an inexcusably improper manner, and with an Al-Atassi sheikh of all people? How could she have forgotten that she and her sister owed their whole lives to the royal family? Whatever happened to her vow to live honorably and properly, the way her father had not?
Tarif was about to speak when to his surprise, Anisah suddenly fell to her knees, dark head bowed. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, Your Highness.” Anisah’s voice was hollow, a large part of her still reeling from shock at her sheer loss of control. No matter what she thought of Tarif Al-Atassi, it was no reason for her to disrespect the sheikh, and that she had –
Tarif’s dark gaze remained inscrutable even as his mind shrewdly assessed the telltale play of emotions on Anisah’s lovely face. He should have known that his sweet puritan would be so stricken with guilt over hurling insults at him she would end up punishing herself with something this drastic.
The question now, he thought contemplatively, was what to do about it.
He still wanted her in his bed, but he did not want her browbeaten into it. He wanted her to come to him of her own volition, but how?
As his mind continued to consider and discard one possibility after another, the sheikh was unable to resist the urge to touch her, his fingers gently reaching down to cup her chin. He felt her tremble at his touch, and a sardonic smile twisted on his lips.
If only he could make himself believe her reaction was out of sexual awareness and not because she was suffering from the throes of misplaced guilt and self-reproach.
“Anisah.”
“Yes, Your Highness?” She squared her shoulders as she waited for the sheikh’s next words, telling herself that she would take whatever punishment he deemed appropriate for her show of disrespect.
“Are you on your knees because you intend to apologize with a blowjob?”
WHAT?
Anisah shoved his hand away as she furiously shot up to her feet, crying out “You loathsome—-” She stopped speaking the moment she saw the mocking gleam in the sheikh’s eyes, realizing with a start that the infuriatingly perverse man hadn’t meant it at all, and his next words confirmed as much.
“You’re angry,” Tarif purred in approval. “That’s better. There’s no fun teasing you when you’re acting all meek and mild—-”
“I am meek and mild,” she said defensively.
“And I’m both a saint and a virgin,” the sheikh retorted, laughing at her face. “No, my sweet, what you are is the most troublesome of puritans—-”
“Excuse me?” she half-shrieked. Had he just called her a prude?
“The most luscious of harpies,” the sheikh continued in a voice that hinted of ill-smothered laughter.
“Harpy?” And now he was likening her to a mythical monster?
“Nem, anisdi,” the sheikh actually had the sheer audacity to affirm it. “A harpy pretending to be a tame little dove...” The sheikh’s eyes took on a dangerous gleam. “Which now brings us to my side of the story.”
Before Anisah realized what was happening, the sheikh had already closed in on her like a beast trapping its prey, and she found herself backed against the glass wall, caged in his arms, and his lean, hard length dangerously close to pressing intimately against hers.
Curses!
She had never been this close to any man, and for the sheikh to be the first—-
This would not do!
“Unhand me!”
“Manners, anisdi,” Tarif taunted. “Shouldn’t you have tagged a ‘Your Highness’ at the end to make it proper and all?”
Violet eyes shot wildly furious sparks at the sheikh. “If you do not unhand me, Your Highness, I shall do my best to properly claw your eyes—-”
The sheikh laughed. “See? You, my sweet, are a harpy through and through.”
Anisah no longer bothered to answer. All she cared about now was getting away, and so she did as promised, struggling so she could claw at his face. But no sooner had her arms lifted than the sheikh had her arms imprisoned over her head, and Anisah could’ve screamed. How was it that this infernal man always ended up getting the better of her? How?
“Stop fighting me, anisdi.” His body slammed hard against her a moment later, imprisoning her for good, and as the powerful, muscular weight of him came into contact with her soft, shaking curves, Anisah’s frustration turned into a shameful, hot, moist welling of awareness.
Oh...stars above...no.
NO.
She might be a virgin in every way, but it didn’t mean she was sexually unaware. She knew, oh heaven help her, but she knew exactly what the wetness threatening to spill out of her meant, and she hated it.
How she hated it, knowing that the moist response of her body was because of Tarif Al-Atassi of all people—-
Oh how she hated it, knowing that there also wasn’t a thing she could do to stem her wanton desire for him.
Tarif stared down at his captive: she was panting, her lips slightly parted, her chest heaving hard, and goddammit, but it was the most arousing sight, and he had the most basic urge to shove her robe up her waist and sink his cock deep into her virgin pussy so he could show her that no matter what she did – no matter how she wished otherwise – they wanted the same thing.
They wanted to fuck each other’s brains out.
The tiniest whimper escaped her, and the wild, panicky look in her eyes told him that even without him saying a word, she had sensed the direction of his thoughts –
He saw her wet her lips.
FUCK.
Anisah jerked in shock when the sheikh suddenly released her as if he had been burned. Her arms falling to her sides, she stared at him in wary silence, wondering if he had only let her go because he had something more nefarious planned.
Tarif’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “There is no need to look at me like that, my sweet. We both know I would not have had to use force on you.” He saw Anisah’s mouth open in an automatic retort, but he didn’t let her utter even a single word. “A warning, anisdi—-” The sheikh’s tone was soft and pleasant, ominously so. “If you deny this—-” He watched her gaze suddenly dart towards the door. “—-or make any attempt to leave this room until I’m done speaking with you, then I will be forced to prove you wrong, and this time—-” His smile turned grim. “I doubt I’ll have the strength to keep myself from fucking you the second time.”
Anisah whitened. The sheikh was known for a lot of things, but making idle threats was not one of them.
“Do we have an understanding, anisdi?”
She gave him a jerky nod.
“Ahsanti.” Perfect. The sheikh walked towards the set of observer’s chairs facing the glass wall. “If you would take a seat, my sweet?”
Resisting the urge to stomp towards him like a child, Anisah forced herself to keep a sedate pace as she walked to the chair she had originally occupied. As she sat down, the sheikh bent down as well, and Anisah couldn’t help stiffening and thinking the worst—-
But when the sheikh straightened, it was only to hand her the hardcover notebook she had accidentally dropped earlier. “I believe this is yours?”
Anisah took every care not to have their fingers touch as she accepted the notebook, muttering in a flat voice, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The sheikh’s tone was polite, but Anisah only allowed herself to relax slightly in her seat when he moved away to take the other chair, which was one good foot away from her. She wished it could have been a mile instead, but alas, beggars with no blue blood could never be choosers in this world.
“We were talking about harpies, weren’t we?”
He wanted her to stay behind so they could talk about...harpies? Confusion mixed in with wariness as she muttered, “You called me one, yes.”
“And do you know why?”
Was that some kind of trick question? Even as Anisah’s confusion grew alongside her suspicion, pride caused her to lift her chin as she returned evenly, “Your choice of term, perhaps, for women capable of turning you down?”
But the sheikh only grinned. “An excellent guess, my sweet, but not quite accurate.” Leaning back against his chair, he murmured, “In some versions of Greek mythology, harpies have also been described as guardians. Granted, they were protecting the Underworld, but even so – for a person to be considered a guardian is to acknowledge that person’s strength—-”
“I’m sorry,” Anisah couldn’t help interrupting the sheikh with a frown, “but I don’t see what this has to do with me?”
“Seeing you protect the queen in battle and act as her guardian was an incredible sight, Tory.”
The words tore a stunned gasp out of Anisah’s throat. How did he know that?
“And later on, learning of how you had also been Kyria’s champion when she was being bullied in school?”
Anisah shook her head in disbelief. “How do you know these things?”
“Your courage was – is – a fucking turn-on, my sweet.”
Oh! The words were completely unexpected, but this only made them more poisonously potent, and she barely managed to bite back a moan even as a treacherous sliver of wetness turned her folds slick.
Stars above...not again!
“It’s strange as hell, but I get hard every time I hear of your noble, brave deeds—-”
Another gasp was torn out of her. Oh dear heavens, these crude things he was saying!
“I d-didn’t do any of it for you—-”
“Which makes it an even bigger turn on,” the sheikh returned silkily.
“That m-means nothing to me.” But even she knew this was an impossibly lame comeback, made even lamer by the tinge of helpless, needy panting in her voice.
Oh, curse this traitorous body of hers!
Trying a second time, she flung at him, “I d-don’t care if it’s so.”
Tarif smirked. “It...being what again, anisdi?”
Like he couldn’t really guess what she meant to say, she mentally fumed. “You know what I want—-”
“Yes, I do,” the sheikh purred, “and it’s me, isn’t it?”
Oh, for the love of Allah!
Even though she knew he was only toying with her, Anisah still couldn’t help flying off the handle, and before she knew it, she had already jumped to her feet and was rushing towards him so she could slap the arrogant smirk off the sheikh’s irritatingly handsome face.
But instead Anisah found herself yanked down on the sheikh’s lap—-
Ah!
She found herself straddling him, her back against his chest, her arms trapped between their bodies, and oh...oh...oh...
That hard, thick, powerfully throbbing length under her...
