My hands shook as I pulled the cups of my bra down. I whimpered as my too-big breasts spilled free, and whimpered again as I heard him suck his breath and look at my breasts like he wanted to devour them.
“Feed them to me, ukhayyah.”
Shivering with wanton pleasure at the words, I cupped my breasts and offered them up to him.
For a moment, all he did was stare, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Oh, God. The way he stared—-
And then suddenly it was there, his mouth on my breast.
Aaaaaaaaah.
I whimpered, moaned, and sobbed as the sheikh suckled on my nipples. Hard and long, possessively and hungrily, like a man who had thirsted for the taste of my nipples for an eternity.
I looked down at his bent head, and I became so, so much wetter.
The sheikh was sucking on my breasts.
The thought had my hands slowly moving, my fingers sinking into his silky dark hair, and holding on to him, I pushed my nipple deeper into his mouth.
More, I begged silently in mind. Suck on it more, my cruel, beautiful sheikh.
When the sheikh released my nipple, I cried out in protest, but the sound soon turned into a moan when he only took my other nipple into his mouth, laving it with the same hungry attention.
Out of my mind with need, I could only melt into his hold, wanting more of the piercing ache that rocked my body as my sheikh continued to suckle.
When he suddenly released me, I looked down at him, dazedly. He was stopping…again?
I saw him frown, his head turning towards the door, and that was when I realized the private intercom mounted on the wall was ringing insistently. Answering the call by voice command, the sheikh asked, “What is it?”
“Your Highness, I am terribly sorry for bothering you at this time, but I fear something has come up that warrants your attention.” Luke, the sheikh’s personal assistant, sounded urgent as he spoke.
The sheikh slanted a glance at my way.
It’s okay, I mouthed while quickly buttoning my blouse.
“I will be out with you in a minute,” the sheikh told Luke and ended the call. When I was dressed, the sheikh cupped my face. “I am sorry for this.”
“Duty calls,” I tried to say lightly but failed. With a shaky smile, I simply promised him, “I won’t be selfish.”
“You have no reason to be,” he said just as simply. “I am coming back to you as soon as I can.”
And he did, sooner than I expected, but when he returned, his handsome face was blazing with anger.
“Your Highness?” I stammered, not sure if I had something to do with his black mood.
The look the sheikh sent my way answered my question, and I flinched. His voice menacingly soft, he said, “Remind me, ukhayyah. What did I make you promise before I left? Do you remember?”
I whitened at his words, realizing with terrifying clarity what this was about.
He knew. He knew about the Sheikh of Layla.
The sheikh pointed at the door. “Get out.” When I could only look at him, shaking, he roared, “Leave before I throw you out!”
Tears pricking my eyes, I rushed out of his suite and almost bumped into Luke, who was waiting outside the sheikh’s door. He took one look at me, and his face softened. “Oh, Lady Ella.”
I didn’t dare blink, not wanting to cry. I didn’t believe I deserve to. “He’s so angry,” I whispered. “What I did – was it really that bad?”
Luke silently handed me the tabloids he held in his hands.
I took them, and the headlines were horrifying. The more I read, the worse they got. The media here was virtually accusing me of being an experienced seductress, an ambitious American gold-digger determined to have her own kingdom.
As one tabloid pointed out: like mother, like daughter.
“I thought writing letters would be harmless.” Shame colored my voice.
Luke winced. “Unfortunately, they are far from being harmless.” Pausing, the sheikh’s aide then said carefully, “I understand that as someone who had not been born in the kingdom, certain nuances of our culture may not make sense to you. However, Lady Ella…you cannot also close your eyes to the truth. You are a member of the royal family now, and even if it is just for the sake of showing respect for our customs and traditions, there are rules that you are expected to uphold.”
“In kingdoms such as ours, communication between unmarried men and women is always restricted and conducted in supervised settings. Even exchanged glances are frowned upon and there are many cases when such have been the bases of hasty engagements. I hope you bear this in mind next time, milady.”
“I will,” I promised determinedly. But, I thought painfully, I wasn’t sure if the sheikh would still care that I did.
The Consequence
“You are being too hard on her, Khal.”