13
The moment his lips touched hers the Sheikh knew there was no going back. He hadn’t planned to do it, and a part of him knew it was a mistake, but it was done and now there was no turning back. Perhaps that visit from Marissa had gotten him turned around, and he did not even want to think about the Princess’s rage when she heard about this. But this was happening, and he knew he had to go forward with it, with her, with this woman whom he barely knew but was now bound to him by an ancient tradition that he had invoked on a whim. So as the cameras flashed and the gasps and whispers buzzed to fever-pitch around them, he kissed her again until he felt her push against his chest as she struggled for air.
“Welcome back,” he whispered, taking in her scent and shuddering as he felt himself overcome with arousal. He looked into her eyes and saw that she was somewhere between mortified and furious, and so he turned his head and addressed his chief attendant.
“Clear the room,” he commanded. “Everyone out.”
For a moment he thought he should have his men seize everyone’s phones and delete any photographs or videos of the kiss, but he dismissed the idea. Chances were that the images had already been tweeted and instagrammed and Facebooked, and besides, there was a part of him that wanted the world to know that he’d chosen this woman, chosen her in public, without giving a damn about what people thought or said.
But he did care about what this woman thought and said, and it was now time to address that. This party was now going to be just the two of them.
The room was cleared quickly and efficiently, and only as the last few people were ushered out did the Sheikh notice the tall white woman with the child in her arms—the child that looked very much like Lora Langhorne. She has a child, came the thought, and he frowned as the implications of what he’d just done roared through him like a tidal wave.
“I . . . I can’t believe you just did that,” she stammered, her breath warm against his cheek. “You just kissed me in front of thirty people. They were taking pictures. Oh, God, I can’t even . . . oh, God, what’s happening . . .”
“I am following through on my commitment,” said the Sheikh, still holding her close like he knew her, like he loved her, like he owned her. “I should have stopped your marriage, and now it is my responsibility. You are my responsibility.”
“You’re crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This is crazy. You can’t just . . . I mean, I can’t just . . .”
“I know I can’t, but I have. And now here we are.”
“I guess so. Here we are,” Lora said, shifting on her feet and tugging at the sides of her dress.
The Sheikh grinned as he stepped back from her and looked her up and down. “This green dress is growing on me. Did you make it yourself?”
Lora snorted without meaning to, folding her arms across her body and shaking her head. “Don’t look at me. I’m grotesque,” she said, half-laughing. “And I’m not sure if I’m more insulted at the implication that I look bad in this dress or that my dress-making skills are that bad.”
The Sheikh paused a moment, raising an eyebrow. “Good point. I will think on it.”
Amir could feel the tension between them start to rise again, and he took a breath. They had still barely spoken to one another, and the last time was three years earlier. But where to even begin a conversation about what was happening, what had happened, what was going to happen? Why was she even back here, just as her marriage was ending? Was she hanging on to that kiss from three years ago just like he was? Were their memories of that kiss just overblown and exaggerated because of all that had happened in their individual lives since then? Who knew?
Ya Allah, we cannot just sit down and talk this out, Amir thought as he reached out and touched her hair without even realizing he was doing it. She flinched at first, but then she looked up into his eyes and stood still as he slowly caressed her smooth cheek. He felt himself stiffen with arousal as he slid his hand to the back of her neck, his fingers sliding into her thick brown hair from behind. He could hear her breathing quicken, see her ample chest rise and fall beneath that green dress, sense her arousal spiraling upwards along with his.
This conversation began with a kiss, the Sheikh thought as his mind spun and he realized he was not going to be able to hold himself back. And so it has to be continued with a kiss, through touch, through movement. Already his face was close to hers, and he raised his left arm, grazing her breast with the back of his hand, feeling her nipple stiffen as she gasped and shuddered and leaned in closer.
Then before he knew it he was kissing her again, deep and with everything he had, his left hand firmly grasping her breast as his right hand closed tight around the back of her neck. She tasted sweet, he thought as he pushed his tongue deep into her warm mouth, pinching her nipple as he pressed his erection against her, feeling her open her thighs ever so slightly for him.
“We should talk about this,” she whispered through her gasps, but the Sheikh shook his head and slid his right hand down along her back, cupping her rear and moving her back against the wall.
“We are talking about this,” he whispered back. “Just not with words. The time for words will come, but that time is not now.”
She nodded as he pulled at the bottom of her dress, drawing it up over her round bottoms and cupping her rear globes with both hands. He dug his fingers into her soft buttocks, grinding his hardness against her mound as he felt the heat rise so fast it made him dizzy.
Amir grasped her panties from behind, twisting them around his hands and then with a grunt ripping the cloth straight down its seam as Lora yelped in surprise. He slid the damp, tattered cloth out from between her legs, tossing it aside and pushing his fingers down there, parting her wet lips and breathing deep as her clean feminine scent rose up to him.
“We can’t,” she gasped, her eyelids fluttering as she looked up at him, her lips wet with his saliva, the neckline of her dress hanging low to reveal her heavy cleavage.
“Yes, we can,” he whispered as he rubbed her mound, gently at first and then with increasing force until he was kneading her clit and pussy with his knuckles, feeling her wetness coat his hand almost down to the wrist. “Your marriage is over, and I am single. There is no guilt, just pleasure. Three years ago you did the honorable thing even though your instincts told you it was a mistake. Three years ago I almost did a dishonorable thing because I was following my instincts. The timing was wrong, but our instincts were right. And now we have a second chance, Lora. Now we can end that conversation that started with a kiss. End it the way it was supposed to end.”
He slid his fingers into her cunt as he spoke, and he felt her shudder and stiffen against the wall, her mouth opening wide in a silent cry of ecstasy as she came. He drove his fingers deep into her, carrying her through her orgasm as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. She collapsed against his chest, and he pulled her down to the soft carpet and laid her on her back, caressing her hair and kissing her cheeks, then her mouth again, again and again until he felt her hands go around him, fingers clawing his back, his neck, his hair.
“We don’t even know each other,” she whispered up at him, but her eyes were barely open and the Sheikh knew she was just saying things that she’d been trained to say by society and her upbringing, that a man and woman shouldn’t be making love until they had spent a certain amount of time together.
“Go on,” he whispered as he licked her neck and pushed her dress back up over her hips, pressing his body down on top of her as she moaned. “Get it all out. All your guilt, all your reasons for why it is wrong for us to do this.”
Her eyelids fluttered again and she opened her eyes, a puzzled expression on her pretty round face—the same face that had looked at him with shock when he’d kissed her three years ago before saying even a full sentence to her.
“I can come up with a hundred reasons why this is wrong, Amir,” she whispered, that puzzled expression spreading as she studied his face like she was seeing him for the first time. “What I don’t understand is why it feels so right. So damned right.”