Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
His hand fisted her hair as she sucked at his tongue eagerly, and he toyed with her nipple, pinching and plucking it, while he began to rub his bulging erection against her pussy.
Just one more second—-
One more second to enjoy this incredible pleasure—-
And then he forced himself to pull away, lifting his head, his breathing harsh as he looked down at her. Her green eyes were dazed, and she was panting, and ah, the look and sound of her made his body clench tightly with need.
“You’re mine now.”
The sheikh’s harshly spoken words left Harper feeling even more befuddled. “I d-don’t understand,” she stammered. What did he mean? Was that sheikh speak for asking her out on a date?
“You. Are. Mine.” The sheikh punctuated the words with a short hard kiss that nevertheless left her toes curling and her head reeling. When he pulled away, her body silently protested, her lips trembling in aching need for more of his kisses. His hands slowly moved down the curves of her body, his touch possessive, and she shuddered and bit back a whimper.
His eyes darkened. “Don’t control it,” he rasped. “I want to hear your desire for me.” His hands went back to her breasts, squeezing them hard, and even as her cheeks turned pink at what she was about to do, she still let it out, a tiny whimper of desire—-
“Nem.” Yes. His eyes gleamed like a satisfied master, and even though she knew she should hate it – she didn’t.
And then he was kissing her again, at the same time reversing their positions on the couch. She suddenly found herself underneath him, the sheikh gently pushing her down to her back without breaking their kiss.
Again, the same thoughts fleeted in her mind—-
Was this really happening? Why was this happening? Was she really letting this happen?
But these thoughts were like the softest of clouds, barely making any impression on her passion-clouded senses. And when he joined her on the couch, her arms instinctively looped around his neck, the weight of his body deliciously heavy and powerful—-
“No need to formally announce me,” they both heard a dark drawl from the outside. “I’ll simply barge in like usual.” The doors opened soon after, leaving Harper frozen in shock under the sheikh as she found herself staring straight into the surprised eyes of Khalil’s cousin, Tarif.
“Lueta,” Khalil cursed in a growl.
A moment later, and Harper was shoving the sheikh off her with a mortified gasp. Reality had settled in with a sickening crash, and she was aghast at how far she had let things go between them.
“Apologies, anisdi.” Tarif had the grace to look discomfited as Harper hurriedly tried to button her blouse with clumsy fingers.
“Let me.” Khalil’s voice was gentle but his touch was firm as he peeled her fingers away and replaced them with his own. Harper stood stiffly, feeling even more humiliated when he made short work of her buttons. It just showed how little affected he was by what happened, while she on the other hand—-
Despair tightened in her throat. Stupid. God, she was so stupid. Why had she let him kiss and touch her so?
As soon as the sheikh finished with the last button of her blouse, she quickly walked away, head held high even though she couldn’t quite meet the other sheikh’s gaze.
She was never, never coming back to Ramil again.
The door slammed shut behind her, and Khalil’s breath hissed out.
Tarif swiftly raised his hands in admission of his guilt. “I am sorry, my brother. I wouldn’t have come in if I had known she was with you.”
He nodded curtly. “But from now on, knock.” Because even though the way Harper Griffiths avoided his gaze told him she didn’t want anything more to do with Khalil – she wasn’t going to have her way. He wouldn’t let her. When he said she was hers, he meant it.
Tarif claimed the seat across the couch. “Are congratulations in order?”
“It will be.”
The other sheikh raised an eyebrow. “But you’ve told her at least?”
Khalil grimaced.
Tarif was incredulous. “But you were already kissing her—-”
“I was...distracted.”
There was a moment of silence, and then his cousin started to laugh.
“Nothing about this is funny,” Khalil said stiffly.
Tarif didn’t even bother dignifying the words with an answer. Khalil wasn’t the Emir Sheikh simply because he was Prince Khalid’s only son. Tarif and his other cousins had only chosen to serve him because they knew no one loved their nation more than Khalil did. Khalil’s entire life had been about serving Ramil, and Tarif could not remember the last time his cousin had allowed anything to distract him from his duties—-
Until Harper Griffiths.
He had always privately thought that the American woman would make a good match for the king, and now Tarif had no doubts at all. Harper was good for Khalil, if only to remind his cousin that there was life beyond the dictates of the throne.