Sheikh's Purchased Princess (13 page)

She identified the master bedroom easily enough. It was minimalistic in the extreme, with stark white walls and an enormous white bed in the center of the room. For a moment, Emily wanted nothing more than to lay herself down on the bed, sinking into the mattress. She thought of lying down in the middle of all of that softness and looking up to see Adnan crouching over her, his eyes dark with passion.

She wavered, and then she thought of all the other women who had lain there as well, and she turned on her heel to walk away.

The bedroom closest to the master bedroom was decorated in a pale sage with a charming painting of a desert sunrise over the smaller, but still impressive bed.

“Here, this will be mine,” she said out loud, and it felt good. She’d had very little opportunity to say that a thing was hers, and now she could at least believe it a little. The room had its own luxurious bathroom, and when she pulled open the curtains, she was treated to a breathtaking view of the city. For the first time in what felt like a long time, she was part of the world again, and she had to admit that felt quite good as well.

Quietly, aware of Adnan's voice on his call, she made her way to the living room and dragged the rack of clothes into her room. To her relief, the rack held a nightgown, though it was a long and silky thing that looked as if it properly belonged on a forties movie star. After a quick shower, she slipped it on, marveling at how beautifully soft it wasand how well it suited her. Bina and Masha knew their business, and whatever Adnan was paying them, it likely wasn't enough.

To Emily's pleasure, there was a low shelf of books near the bed, an eclectic collection of classics and modern fiction that suggested it had been left behind by various occupants. For a moment Emily wondered who else had stayed in the penthouse, but she pushed the thought away.

For want of anything else to do, she stretched out on the bed, pulling out one of the novels to begin reading it. Before she had made it past the first chapter of the spy thriller, her eyelids were drooping.

When the door clicked open, she startled a little, lifting her head to see what was going on. Adnan crossed the room to sit down the bed next to her. She purred when he stroked her hair, but she still grumbled at him.

“You should knock,” she said, unable to keep the sleepiness from her voice. It felt as if she had been awake for years. She supposed it made sense. An awful lot had happened today.

“Oh?” he asked, amused. “Even when this space belongs to me?”

She squinted up at him.

“We're trying to get to know each other, my lord,” she said pointedly. “When you come in without knocking, it tells me something about you.”

He paused for a moment before nodding solemnly.

“I apologize,” he said. “I will knock in the future.”

“That's…” Emily yawned mightily. “That's good. Right now, though, come to bed.”

Adnan seemed to freeze at her words. “Come to bed?” he asked cautiously.

Emily was too tired to think about what he might mean in his pause. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to roll into bed with this man and be held while she slept. She couldn't see what the problem was or why he was hesitating.

“Yes,” she murmured, aware of how cranky she sounded. “I'm exhausted. Unless you are going to stay up?”

There was a pause, and then evidently Adnan came to a decision. “No, I am not going to stay up,” he said.

She was vaguely aware of him sliding off the bed and the soft sound of his clothing hitting the floor. When he scooped her up to tuck her under the blankets with him, she was only sleepily grateful.

“You are truly a wonder,” he said, and she thought she could hear some real affection in his voice, something that saw her not as a slave or a woman he wanted, but as herself. The thought comforted her immensely, and as she drifted off to sleep, she snuggled up close to him.

Emily came awake swiftly and easily, blinking in the morning light. The softness of the bed and the soothing sound of the man breathing next to her made her want to go back to sleep, but for the first time in ages, she was well-rested. She had always been a morning person, after all, and there was so much to see and do.

She started to get out of bed, but one glance at Adnan stopped her. He was sleeping on his back, one arm thrown out and the other curled behind his head. The silk sheet hung low on his hips, baring the powerful muscles of his chest and abs.

With wide eyes, she observed that he was half-hard under the covering of silk. It made her blush a little, and a part of her wanted to scurry to the bathroom, ignoring it and not doing a single thing. But seeing the shape of him under the sheet made a low heat kindle in the pit of her belly, and she couldn't look away.

Biting her lip, Emily reached for him, not quite brave enough to let her hand slide under the sheets…yet. Instead, she brushed the back of her fingers against the hardening shaft of his manhood, her eyes widening when his body responded.

When she glanced at his face, she saw his dark brows come together in a momentary frown before sliding back into sleep. She wondered what he would have thought of her touch, how he would have reacted, and that made her touch him again.

A light touch seemed sufficient to arouse him to full hardness, but after a few moments, that wasn't enough for her. Instead, she circled his silk-sheathed cock with her fingers, drawing on the shaft slightly and making his entire body shudder. His eyes were still closed, however, and she forced herself to keep her breathing still.

He was her first lover, but that didn't mean that she was entirely ignorant. She had read romance novels, and of course she had listened to the tales of her more worldly friends. She had never understood before what the appeal might be of touching a man's flesh, of feeling it respond to her. Privately, she wondered if the appeal was overstated, if it was something that no one really liked. But touching him set her on fire. It was like nibbling at a banquet before being allowed to feast.

She took a deep breath, glancing at his face again. After reassuring herself that he was asleep, she slid her hand under the silk, gliding along his shaft. Soon enough, the slick fabric fell away, and she could see his proud manhood, erect in the morning light. She licked her lips at the sight of it, startled by how attractive she found it.

The thick shaft, the purplish head with the bead of dew at the crown—she knew how it could make her feel and how completely it could fill her. Slowly, almost timidly, she drew her hand along the shaft, shivering as it pulsed at her touch. When she tightened her hand experimentally, Adnan's hips thrust upwards.

Fascinated, Emily did it again, but then his hand came up to close over hers, hard as stone.

“Adnan!”

“You looked so fascinated that I couldn't bear to stop you,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “Who would have thought that my little virgin would be so curious, hmm?”

“I might have been a virgin, but I wasn't stupid,” she said, looking away. God, would the blush on her cheeks ever go away?

“I see…so as you are the soul of worldliness, what do you wish to do now?”

For some reason, the idea of having it all to choose from startled her. When they had first lain together, he was in control, unquestionably dominant. That had brought her more pleasure than she thought possible, but this was something different.

“I…I want to taste you…” she said, closing her eyes from embarrassment. “Is…is that okay?”

Adnan's laugh was low and husky.

“It's far more than okay, little one,” he crooned. “Go on…I think I can bear it…”

“Will it hurt you?” asked Emily in surprise, her eyes flying up to him. “I mean, what…”

He laughed, more loudly this time.

“No, you misunderstand me,” he responded. “I simply do not want to spill between those pretty lips of yours. I have other plans.”

She felt a spike of heat go through her at his blunt words. She had never heard a man speak so matter-of-factly, nor would she have thought that she would be so aroused at hearing him speak like that. Adnan's simply words left no illusions about his control or his strength, and she relaxed.

“Will…will you stop me if I am bad at this?”

His black eyes were infinitely warm.

“I believe there is absolutely no way that you can be bad at this.”

Reassured, she squirmed down on her belly, bringing her face close to his cock. This close, she could smell the male scent of him, warm, slightly spicy in a way that intoxicated her. Hesitantly, she ran her lips along his shaft, relishing the way he shivered. Encouraged, she began to explore his flesh carefully with her mouth, licking and kissing almost delicately.

She became aware of the tension that ran through his body like steel wire. She might not have had any idea of what she was doing, but he responded to her every move. She looked for the way his body shuddered, waited for the feel of his hand tightening in her hair before he loosened.

When she reached up to pull the broad tip between her lips, he groaned out loud, and that sent hot desire spilling through her like a tide. Whatever else was between them, there was this pleasure, this heady need.

Before Emily could elicit that response again, he was pulling her away. With his strength and speed, it took less than a moment before she was pressed down on her back, looking up at him slightly dazed.

“Did…did I do something wrong?” she whispered, and his smile was brief and sharp.

“Never,” Adnan swore. “No. Only I think it is time for me to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

With no more warning than that, he pressed her legs apart, and then his mouth descended to her slit. When he lashed at her clit with his tongue, the sparks of desire fanned to flames and she was unable to speak. Instead, all she could do was cry out as he used his tongue and his lips with brutal efficiency, driving her higher and higher towards her climax.

“I want you, I want you,” she whimpered, and he redoubled his efforts. At some point, her legs had gotten slung over his shoulders, and he was actually lifting her hips up towards his waiting mouth.

When her orgasm hit her, it was like being struck by lightning. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense up at once before releasing in a sobbing flood of pleasure, and she was vaguely aware of calling Adnan's name while digging her nails into his shoulders. She felt as if she had been torn out of herself, turned to ash by the sheer force of her need for him and its fulfillment.

Adnan pulled away, and before her orgasm was even done, he mounted her with a force that was just short of savage. He lifted her hips and plunged deep inside her, pulling out part-way before plunging again.

The feeling of being utterly filled consumed her, and she was crying out again. She lifted herself up to pull him deeper, and when he came down to kiss her, she threw her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.

He rode her with a passion that took her breath away, and when he finally spilled inside her, he shouted her name. She listened to the echoes that hung in the air, and in that moment, she knew what it was to be utterly content.

Adnan collapsed on her for a moment before rolling to one side. He dragged her with him, and when he showered kisses all over her face, she couldn't stop herself from giggling.

“Well, good morning then,” Emily said. After everything they had done, she wondered why she still felt a little shy.

“Good morning to you too, beautiful one,” he purred. “That was a fine way to wake me up.”

“I could honestly get used to that,” she said, looking down. “It's way better than an alarm clock, or at least, I think so.”

“Far better than an alarm clock,” he said reassuringly and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Lying so close to him, their bodies intertwined, Emily half-wondered whether they would fall into passion again, but then Adnan's phone sounded, making him groan.

“I would like nothing more than to stay in bed with you, but unfortunately duty calls.”

“Oh,” Emily said, more than a little disappointed. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Adnan was looking at his phone, and despite not even leaving the bed, he already felt miles away.

“Don't worry about it,” he said absently. “I'll be back later on tonight. Perhaps we can send out for dinner. I need to get in the shower and be in the car in the next half hour.”

She watched as he headed for the shower without a backwards glance. Somehow, despite the circumstances of their meeting, she had never felt abandoned until just this moment.

That was foolishness, wasn't it, though? They had an agreement, one that would leave her very wealthy no matter what happened. Why did she suddenly feel so lonely?

“Is there anything I should be doing here?” she asked as he came out. Feeling a bit like a bothersome child, she followed him to his room, where he dressed in Western clothes that fit him like a glove. In his charcoal suit, he looked every inch a man who ruled his country, and still draped in a sheet, she felt every inch a grubby girl from Queens.

“Not at all,” he said, glancing down at his phone. “Do as you please.”

He gave her an absent kiss on the forehead before he was out the door, and then she was alone.

“Well,” she said to the empty apartment. “What now?”

When the driver picked him up, Adnan got into the back seat, laying his phone aside.

By all rights, he should feel wonderful. Waking up to Emily's inquisitive hand was more pleasurable than he had ever dreamed something so innocent could be. When it came to passion, he had never met a woman who matched him so well. But when she had gazed after him like a lost puppy, he had felt an odd feeling of guilt followed by an iron resolve.

Emily had a peculiar pull on him, one that he couldn't explain. Good sense dictated that he send her home, where that attachment could not harm him, but he had proved incapable of that. Instead, he wanted to keep her close, but he needed to make sure that she wasn't going to rule over him entirely.

Boundaries were key, he decided. He could enjoy her, get to know her, revel in the paradise of her desire, but he would not allow her to gain a foothold in his entire life.