Stolen Lives (Blood Brothers Book 1) (48 page)

“I’ve got something to tell you, sweetheart.”

She accepts a full, deep kiss, our mouths and tongues dancing together. For a moment, I almost forget why I woke her. My cock engorges almost painfully in the jeans I’m wearing under my robe. But I will it down, shifting and adjusting to try to get comfortable; the news is too important to wait. I pull back, my arm still holding her.

“I’ve had a call from Jon Tharpe.” I give her a moment to place the name of the bodyguard who went to Paris with Jasim. When she nods, I continue. “He remained in France, trying to track down the man who hurt Chantelle and set me up. Well, he found him.”

Cara sits up straight, her eyes anxiously searching mine. “What happened?”

“He’s made a full confession to the police, completely clearing my name.”

“What? How?”

I laugh. “Jon can be
very
persuasive when he wants to be.” I suspect I know the type of methods he’d have used, but I don’t share that. Whatever the action was, it was sufficient for the drug dealer to give up his liberty rather than having the threat of certain members of Grade A Security hanging over him. “The papers are drafting new headlines right now. It’s not as big a story, of course, not like that of the ‘savage sheikh’, but it should warrant a couple of paragraphs.”

Her eyes narrow, but then fill with pleasure. “The world knows you’re innocent?”

“They will do soon.” My cock is throbbing, but I’ve one more thing to say. “I already owe Jon, my blood brother, my life. Now I owe him my sanity.”

“But he thought you were guilty! It was part of the reason you accepted it yourself!”

I nod, thinking. “He thinks he let me down, but it wasn’t his fault. Everything was so rushed, so hurried, he didn’t have a chance to discover what really happened. I was just pleased Chantelle was persuaded to change her story to keep me out of gaol, and wanted to get out of France. But now he’s cleared my name. Now, enough talking, I want you, Cara.”

She seems to be in tune with me and offers no resistance as I move the sheet down her body, exposing her beautiful form. I make short work of getting out of my clothes until I’m naked beside her. Leaning over I open my hand, and let the contents slither out on to her stomach.

Gasping, she sits up. “What’s that?” She takes the long gold chain in her hand and looks up at me quizzically.

“It’s a slave chain.” It’s the one Jasim brought to me the day my wife was first delivered to me, and I thought I’d now put it to good use. “It goes round your waist. I’d like you to wear it.”

“A slave chain?” Her brow creases, and she looks surprised.

“It’s sexy, a turn-on for me. To know you’re mine, and no one else will know you’re wearing it.” As her face flushes, I can see the thought arouses her too.

Then she frowns. “It won’t fit me for long, Nijad.”

“Wear it while you can then.” I motion for her to sit up, and fasten the chain around her waist. The links are flattened, so it should be comfortable. I fasten the tiny padlock and put the key on a chain around my neck. It’s symbolic. “You’re mine.”

She touches the key around my neck. “
You’re
mine
.
”

I grin. She’s so right: I am her slave. But I’m not telling her that. Instead, I push her back down. I stretch her legs apart and watch her face. Her pupils are dilating, her face flushed. Running my hand across her stomach, pausing to rest on the soft cocoon that’s nurturing my baby, I journey down to her pussy. She’s gushing wet. I wipe my fingers across her and then put them into my mouth, sucking them. She’s watching avidly. As she reaches her hands down to me I stop her, grabbing hold of them and pulling them up over her head. I reach over to the low table beside the bed, open the drawer, and extract the handcuffs I put there earlier. I fasten the soft leather cuffs around her wrists, and then attach them to the bed post. After I check they’re comfortable for her, I see her licking her lips in anticipation. This beautiful woman is with me all the way.

I take out a soft black silk blindfold. I show it to her and then cover her eyes. She wriggles. Now the touch of anxiety, the knowledge she’s totally in my control, is adding to her arousal. The flush, which began on her face, now extends the whole way down her body. I pull back, removing my skin entirely from hers. She has no idea what I’m going to do next. I wait. She’s impatient and wriggles. I don’t move until she’s still. Then I bend down, my mouth going to her nipple. A gentle suckle has her gasping. I take a second to look down her body, noting the changes that pregnancy has already made to her. I love her increased sensitivity, and am impatient to watch her body swell with my child. She squirms, missing my touch, so I return to her nipple, gently closing my teeth on it. Taking her other in my fingers, I tease, pull and pinch it. She writhes, opening and closing her legs as though to get relief.

I pull away again, leaving her alone, watching as she tenses in expectation, wondering what I’m going to do next. In one movement I straddle her, my knees either side of her head. I move my cock around her lips, and her mouth opens to take me inside. Pausing, I gently slide the head round the entrance to that warm tempting orifice and she takes the hint, flicking out her tongue to gather the pre-cum from my slit. The gentle touch torments me; I need more. Using my hands, I tilt her head up and back so she can take me deeper. I carefully start thrusting in and out. My legs and hands imprison her; she has no choice but to experience whatever I want to give her. I plunge deep, feel her swallow around me and I almost shoot my load. I pull back, my hand coming round the base of my dick to try to control myself. I squeeze hard and gaze up at the ornate curtains covering the walls behind the bed. I want to come inside her. Her mouth is working, her tongue licking her lips, tempting me back inside, but I’ve got other plans.

Shuffling backwards on my knees, I let my prick slide down her body. When it’s between her breasts, I push them together, letting the saliva still coating me act as a lubricant as I fuck her breasts. She moans as my thumbs flick her nipples, and starts to beg.

“Please, Nijad. Please. I need you.”

I don’t give a verbal response. I’m in charge here. I’ll take as long as I want or, to put it bluntly, as long as I can before I explode. I feel a churning in my balls and a tightening that I have to fight to keep under control. I shuffle down again, sitting up so she can’t feel me any more. I give her time to mourn my loss with a moan, and then drop my head to her so-ready cunt, my tongue dipping inside, sweeping up that sweet nectar, taking my fill. I hold her tight to keep her from squirming. Lifting my head I wait, and then drop my teeth down to graze her clit that’s come right out of hiding. She almost jumps off the bed. I circle it with my tongue, and push two fingers deep inside her, curling round to find that spot which will drive her crazy. Using her moisture, I move my hand back and, pushing against her initial rebuttal, press my finger inside her tight arsehole. At the same time, I draw my mouth away and use my free hand to land a stinging slap on her engorged clit. She screams and comes with such force she almost shakes me off her. Immediately, I put my mouth back, easing her down with my tongue, my finger slowly fucking her arse which extends her orgasm on and on. At last, her body slumps back down.

Moving quickly, I tear off the blindfold and undo her cuffs. Free now, she seizes my head and pulls me down for a punishing kiss. She’s still breathing heavily, so we break apart. I grin at her, loving the slightly shocked expression on her gorgeous face. I give her little time to recover as the demands of my cock can no longer be ignored. Positioning myself, I push inside. This time, I take it slow, gradually inching my way in through her tight channel. She tries to hurry me, but I’m taking it at exactly the pace I want. Slowly, so slowly, I embed inside her. As my long cock touches her womb, her body starts to clench around me. As another orgasm hits her, it takes all my self-discipline not to follow her over into the abyss. I wait and then begin to move again. I want another peak from her. I move slowly, in and out, in and out, making sure I touch her sweet spot as well as deep inside each time I pass. I reach down and pinch her clit. She screams again and, as she comes, I can feel her gushing around me. Now the violence of her contractions takes me with her. I roar out, unable to stop myself as I pump and pump inside her, feeling cum shooting from my balls, travelling through my dick and coating her vaginal walls. I stay on top of her, both of us fighting to regain our breath. Her eyes open and meet mine. She smiles such a satisfied smile. My features are taut, my erection only just subsiding, tremors are still going through me. She flexes her internal muscles; I feel it and groan. But I’ve plans for today, so let myself slip out before she can tempt me again. Sitting back on my heels, I relish the beautiful sight of our joint fluids seeping out of her.

Suddenly she sits up, her hands going to her mouth.

“Bathroom!” she rasps out, shoving me as I’m obviously not getting out of her way quick enough. Startled, I jump to my feet, clearing her way and opening the door to the en-suite for her. She hurtles to the toilet, bends over the bowl and vomits violently and noisily, over and over again. Quickly, I take hold of her hair, pulling it back from her face. She finally finishes retching and leans back, resting against my legs. I put my hand to her forehead; it feels hot and clammy to my touch. Immediately, I’m concerned.

“Cara…”

“Morning sickness,” she moans softly, giving the simple explanation.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Does this happen often?”

She gives me an incredulous but amused look. “Like every morning? And other times too. I’m beginning to think
morning sickness
is a misnomer.”

I feel a complete arsehole as she heaves over the bowl again. I wait, stroking her back, not knowing what I can do to help. It suddenly makes it real. She is pregnant; she’s carrying my child. Of course I knew it before. I had only just now enjoyed the sensual benefits of her enlarging and more sensitive breasts, and her increased levels of arousal, but this is the first time I’ve been faced with the physical challenges that she’ll be going through to carry my child, my heir. It staggers me, and I reel with the overwhelming love I feel for this woman.

“I’m sorry.” I pull her towards me.

“Sorry?” She doesn’t understand what I mean.

“That you have to go through all this.”

“Just to warn you, I’m tying a knot in it when the baby’s born.” She grins, gesturing to my now very flaccid cock. “Or cutting it off.”

“Shit, I forgot about the dagger I gave you,” I mumble into her hair. “I’m hiding that.”

I help her up, and stand by her as she cleans her teeth. Then, pulling her to me, I give her a deep kiss. “I love you, Cara. More than I can ever tell you.”

Cara

Funnily enough, that bout of morning sickness, the first morning in the desert city palace, was the last. I still occasionally feel nauseous, but nowhere near the extent that I had; I put it down to a lowering of my stress levels. But seeing me being ill seems to have brought it home to Nijad that I am carrying his baby, and making him aware of all that it entails. He treats me as though I need to be wrapped in cotton wool, at times to the extent of making me want to scream! It isn’t until he’s assured by the doctor that we can continue
full
marital relations that he has sex with me again, and only takes me to the dungeon after I threaten dire consequences with my famed knife if he doesn’t!

I’m amazed that when the royal machinery springs into action things seem to happen fast, including organising an impossibly large wedding in just four weeks. I would be overwhelmed if Nijad hadn’t insisted I reduce my working hours for Kadar to just part-time, and employed a renowned wedding planner so that all but the most important decisions are taken out of my hands.

But even so, I find I have little free time, and most of that is taken up with dress fittings and discussions about colour schemes. Aiza, the emir’s daughter, is to be my bridesmaid, and will be returning from finishing school in Switzerland the week before the wedding. I’ve already sort of met her, though, as she’s taken to FaceTiming me almost every day, excited to be part of the first royal wedding in the family for over three decades. Already I’m thinking of her as a sister, loving her open and effervescent nature.

Nijad and I spend half our time in the desert city and half
in the main palace of Amahad. When in Z̧almā, I work remotely in a beautiful office Nijad has set up for me, alongside his. I continue to manage the investment portfolio of the country, but will be easing off on the other routine work once they’ve appointed a new minister of finance. Kadar has asked that I still work on financial investigations for Amahad, but I don’t mind that. It feeds my hacking habit nicely. We travel by helicopter between the two cities in the same way as normal people travel by car. It’s a necessity, though. When I worried about the strain on Nijad’s favourite R44, he assured me that there were mechanics in each city who maintained it before and after every journey. Not just basic maintenance, but checking for any evidence of terrorist activity. Though I have to admit that part of my new life scares me, I’m becoming used to the security measures, which include my own protection team when I’m in the desert.

Nijad isn’t allowed to relax in the capital; he is taking on some of the administrative roles, freeing up Jasim’s time. After the wedding, Jasim is going to relocate permanently to London to look after Amahad’s business interests there, as well as setting up buyers for the oil which we are hopeful will soon start to flow from under the sands. I know his brothers will miss him, but anyone can see that being in Amahad is suffocating him, and while it had a happy ending, he continues to have difficulty reconciling himself to the part he played in my kidnap and forced marriage.