Never Resist a Sheikh (International Bad Boys) Page 12

  He moved faster, using his free hand to grip her hips, holding her steady as he thrust deep, the friction becoming too much, the pleasure overwhelming.

  She arched her back like a cat, her arms straining against his hold, crying his name. And then he felt her sex grip him tightly, convulsing around him.

  Thank God.

  Zakir released the leash he had on himself, driving hard inside her, letting the pleasure grip him by the throat and squeeze. Until his vision dimmed and there was nothing but the slick, wet heat of her. Nothing but the unendurable tension drawn so tight he couldn’t bear it.

  Then he leaned down and covered her mouth, kissing her hard and wet and deep as the orgasm came for him. Swift and annihilating as a bullet to the back of his head.

  Chapter Eight

  Felicity couldn’t seem to get a breath. She lay on the couch with her eyes closed, her body trembling from the force of a second climax so intense her eyes had just about rolled back in their sockets…

  Wow.

  That’s all you can say? Wow?

  Okay, so that was a stupid word and not nearly enough to encompass everything that had just happened with Zakir. But then, she had a feeling no word would ever be enough to encompass it.

  Zakir’s grip on her wrists was punishing, the sound of his harsh cry echoing in her ears. She could feel the heavy weight of him crushing her against the cushions of the couch, the long, thick length of him still buried deep inside her.

  She felt stretched and sore and…sated. And good. So, so good.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  He was looking down at her, black gaze glinting with fierce possession. There was a flush to those aristocratic cheekbones, his mouth curving in a smile of deep satisfaction.

  “Any more questions?” The heat in his voice made her skin prickle all over.

  She grinned, feeling ridiculously pleased with herself for some reason she couldn’t possibly fathom. “Actually, I do have a few.”

  He gave a low laugh, the soft, rough sound of it sending a little thrill right through her. “Of course you do. But not now. I think we both could use some recovery time.” Gently he slid from her, moving off the couch, pulling up his black pants and tucking himself away.

  She rolled over onto her side, watching him as he went over to the far side of the room where there was a set of cupboards. He opened them up, taking out a few things. He had his back to her, the muscles of his shoulders rippling with his movements.

  And her mouth dried. Such wide shoulders. So strong. He could carry anything. Protect anyone. In fact, hadn’t he done that the previous night? Taking her away from Faisal, believing her when she said it hadn’t been her fault. Defending her. Taking her side.

  A sudden longing tightened in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken her side. Her father never had because he’d never been interested. While her mother… Well, everything was Felicity’s fault. Even the divorce.

  Especially the divorce.

  She shut her eyes. No, that wasn’t her fault. Her parents’ marriage had been on the rocks even before she’d been born and having her hadn’t changed that, no matter what her mother told her.

  “If you’d been a boy or even a different kind of girl, this would never have happened, Felicity.”

  The sound of a footstep near her, a big, warm palm on her side, drowned out the sound of her mother’s anger. Her mother’s hopelessness.

  Her eyes snapped open. Zakir was standing there, holding a white towel. “On your back.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t reply, that warm hand pushing until he’d rolled her onto her back himself. Then, very matter of factly, he pushed his hand between her thighs, using the towel to clean her up.

  She flushed and tried to bat his hands away. “Stop, I can—”

  “No.” Just a simple word, but it held the weight of mountains, leaving her with no option but to sit there while he moved the cool damp towel on her, making her shiver and blush. But it felt good, no denying that.

  When he’d finished, he threw the towel into a nearby wicker basket. “If there is a child, we will deal with that when the time comes,” he said.

  “Child? What child?”

  He stared at her, very direct. “I did not use protection, little one.”

  Felicity blinked, a cold sensation sliding down her spine. Oh, God. No, they hadn’t. She hadn’t even thought of it and he’d just…

  “Why not?” Her voice sounded weak and shaky, the warm, relaxed feeling from the sex dissipating suddenly. “I mean, I don’t have any. It wasn’t like I packed my suitcase thinking I might get kidnapped by a medieval sheikh and taken to his castle, and I’d need to pack some condoms, just in case.”

  He reached out a hand, cupped her cheek with a gentleness that had her breath catching. “I am sorry. I did not have any on hand.”

  “But it’s not just kids we have to worry about, Zakir.” She was starting to feel panicky. “You know that, right?”

  “Of course. But you were a virgin and I have been celibate for two years. Neither of us is in any danger of disease.”

  He sounded so calm. But then of course he would. Everything was going exactly as he wanted it.

  She swallowed, pulling away from his hand and slipping off the couch. She felt cold and scared all of a sudden, like she was falling slowly but inexorably down a mountainside and there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to stop her fall.

  She’d only come down here to try and get more pieces of the puzzle that would unlock him, that would hopefully give her some way of getting out of this ridiculous marriage situation. But all she’d done was manage to get herself in deeper.

  If she wasn’t careful she was going to trap herself and then there would be no way out.

  “Felicity.” His voice was so deep and rough, the sound of her name foreign and exotic on his tongue. “I will take care of you, you know that.”

  “I don’t want you to take care of me. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this.” She bent to grab a towel from the stack nearby since he’d neatly destroyed her jeans and panties, only to have his long fingers wrap around her wrist. She flinched as he brought her around to face him again.

  Anger glittered in his eyes. “But you wanted me. Do not pretend otherwise.”

  Of course she couldn’t, not when she’d been very, very obvious about it. God, why hadn’t she thought about protection?

  Because you lost your mind over him. Because you were desperate for him.

  “I’m not.” She tried to swallow past the lump of fear in her throat. “It’s just…a kid shouldn’t be used like that. A kid shouldn’t be…” She stopped, realizing where the words were coming from.

  “A kid should not be what?” Zakir demanded.

  “Nothing.” She jerked her hand out of his grip. She didn’t want to talk about this, not now, not with him.

  He stared at her a moment, his expression shuttered. Then abruptly he turned to the other thing he’d brought from the cupboards and laid on the couch, a length of deep blue silk. Picking it up, he held it out to her. “Here. You may dress in that.”

  She felt shaky and angry and vulnerable. Why had she said that? This was a different situation to what happened with her and her own parents. Totally different. “Why didn’t you ask me, Zakir?” she said thickly. “Why didn’t you warn me? Or does what I want not matter at all?”

  His expression closed up completely. “Dress,” he said, ignoring the question. “In a few days we will be leaving for the desert on a visit to the tribes.”

  She stared at him, the blue silk clutched in her hand. “The desert?”

  “Yes.” He turned, heading toward the doors. “You need pack nothing, all that will be taken care of. Until then, you may do as you wish.”

  Felicity let out a long breath, watching as his tall figure strode out of the training room, leaving her standing there naked and confused, and strangely, inexplicably hurt.


  She swallowed, slowly opening out the silk in her hands. It was a beautiful robe, the material soft and warm on her skin.

  Her hands shook as she put it on, but no matter how tightly she wrapped it around herself, she was still cold.

  * * *

  A couple of days later, Zakir stood in the shade of his tent’s awning, trying to have a discussion with the chief of Al-Shakhra’s largest desert tribe, only to find his attention yet again distracted by Felicity.

  Which was nothing new. She’d been doing that ever since they’d arrived at the desert camp the previous day. And not because she was constantly demanding his attention, but because she’d been doing the exact opposite.

  Their encounter in the training room had not gone as he’d wanted. At least, the pleasurable part of it certainly had. How it ended, however, had not. And the truly annoying part of it was that he had no one but himself to blame.

  He should never have gotten angry with her when she’d protested about the fact he hadn’t used protection. But he had gotten angry. Mainly because he’d experienced a very unwelcome attack of regret.

  Did you really think it wouldn’t be a problem?

  That anger stirred inside him again, his gaze resting on the small woman standing not far away, in the full glare of the midday desert heat, talking to another of the chieftains. Jamal was next to her, clearly translating, while the older man she was talking to gazed at her with an intrigued look on his face.

  Of course it had been a problem. But he hadn’t warned her because he simply hadn’t thought of it at the time. He’d been too intoxicated by the smell of her, the feel of her. He’d wanted to bury himself inside her too much and so he had. Without thought.

  It was a reminder of how thin his control had been and that was something he didn’t want to acknowledge. Not to himself and definitely not to her. He should be stronger than that. He should be more in control.

  The chieftain said something to Felicity and when Jamal translated, hers eyes lit up and she gave him a wide grin. Zakir couldn’t hear quite what she was saying, but her voice sounded excited and so was the look on her face.

  Desire gathered inside him, tight and hot. He remembered that look. He remembered the glitter in her eyes. She’d looked like that beneath him. Holy God, he wanted more of that, more of what they’d shared in his training room. A lot more. Two years he’d waited and he did not want to wait any longer. It wasn’t, of course, appropriate for him to share a bed with his intended bride, at least not until they were married, but there were ways and means. And he didn’t want to be denied.

  Perhaps you should wait. Denial is another way to test your strength.

  The hungry thing inside him growled at the thought; his body didn’t think much of that.

  Felicity began to gesture, Jamal nodding emphatically along, which was strange because Zakir didn’t think he was much enamored of Miss Felicity Cartwright. Then she turned her head and smiled at his head of security.

  And Zakir’s anger took a darker turn. She’d kept away from him since he’d left her in the training room, and he hadn’t pushed because he’d been busy in the day or so before their departure. But she hadn’t spoken to him on the way out here the day before, not once. And now she was giving Jamal those beautiful smiles. Jamal—and not him.

  Careful, be very careful. Jealousy was the first sign of Farid’s madness.

  Cold pierced the heat of desire and anger sitting in the pit of his stomach. Ah, what was he thinking? That was not a road he wanted to travel.

  So perhaps it was better that she ignore him. Better that he keep his distance. It would be in the best interests of both of them in the end. Once they were married, his control would need to be absolute.

  The chief talking to Felicity pointed to somewhere beyond the high cliffs that surrounded the oasis they were currently camped in, and Felicity nodded excitedly. She was talking fast now, her eyes glittering, making more wide gestures with her hands.

  She was swathed in a blue robe with a white veil covering her hair and beneath the veil her face was beet red.

  Zakir frowned. He’d thought she’d wilt once they reached the deep desert and yet she hadn’t. Here she was, standing out in the punishing midday heat, talking excitedly and seemingly not aware of the fact that she looked like she was going to burst into flame at any moment.

  Little fool. He’d warned her to rest in the tent during the day, but she’d ignored him. This had to stop.

  “Sire?” The chief he was talking to looked at him strangely, and Zakir had the impression that this wasn’t the first time the man had asked him something and hadn’t gotten a response. Mainly because Zakir was too busy looking at Felicity.

  Curse her. Getting her into a tent would at least mean she wasn’t within in his sight and therefore wouldn’t be so distracting.

  Zakir finished up his conversation hurriedly, then strode out from under the awning, heading over to where Felicity and Jamal stood.

  The little oasis was for the king only; the tribes themselves camped not five miles away at another, much larger oasis. The chiefs had come to formally welcome Zakir and invite him to the feast tonight at their camp, where he would be expected to bring his bride prize—Felicity. Except if he didn’t get her out of that sun, she probably wouldn’t be going anywhere at all.

  She was still talking and as he got closer, he could hear the words “cell phone towers” and “wireless” and “mobile networks”. Of course, there was only one thing that got her so excited. Technology and her company.

  The company that will fail if you keep her here.

  Zakir pointedly ignored that particular thought.

  She didn’t even notice him approaching, her gaze intent on the chief who was staring at her as if transfixed. There was definite interest in his gaze and for one hot, blinding second, Zakir thought it was male interest. His hand was reaching for his sword before he could stop himself, only belatedly realizing he wasn’t carrying one.

  Luckily, no one had seen the gesture and it was only as the chief asked Felicity a question that Zakir realized he was wrong, it wasn’t male interest; it was interest in what she was saying.

  It was only a smile she gave one of her guards. Only a smile. But Farid had complained to Zakir all through the wedding feast about it. He’d thought she perhaps she was having an affair with him. A secret affair. Zakir had told him to calm down and when Farid had, Zakir had forgotten about it. Until morning…

  The cold feeling got worse. He had control of this, he did.

  “Yes, schools,” Felicity was saying. “Even out here. And it would give you access to all kinds of specialist help, like health and business and—”

  “Felicity,” Zakir interrupted, trying not to sound harsh, and failing. “You should not be out here.”

  Her head snapped round, her eyes meeting his, the little sparks of excitement in the silver depths extinguishing. The expression on her face closed up and it felt like he’d just stepped on a beautiful flower and crushed it under his boot.

  “Why not?” she demanded.

  Zakir glanced meaningfully at Jamal, who inclined his head and murmured to the chief, leading him off back to the main tent where the others were.

  Felicity scowled. “What was that for?”

  Ignoring her tone, Zakir examined her critically. Her face was brick red and if the air hadn’t been like an oven, her skin would probably have been shiny with sweat. But it wasn’t, which was a bad sign.

  “You have been standing in the full heat of the desert for nearly half an hour,” he said. “It is time to find shade if you do not wish to make yourself ill.”

  She made a negligent gesture with her hand. “I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine. Have you had any water in the last hour?”

  Her jaw jutted mutinously. “I was talking, Zakir. About stuff relevant to Red Star and since you—”

  “This is not the time to be talking about your company, Felicity. You are not used to the
desert and continuing to argue with me will not help.”

  “Hey, I’ve been to Las Vegas. I know about deserts.”

  He narrowed his gaze at her. Her lips were cracked and she definitely had a case of sunburn. “Into your tent,” he ordered, “now. Or I will pick you up and carry you there myself.”

  She gave a shrug as if it didn’t matter to her one way or another, then she turned, only to sway, her feet stumbling on the rocky ground.

  Heat exhaustion, very likely, which meant she needed to get somewhere cool immediately. Cursing under his breath, he stalked over to her and before she could protest, swung her up into his arms and carried her toward the tent.

  “You are very stubborn,” he said. “And a fool.”

  Her eyes had fallen closed, her body light in his arms, all her prickly temper suddenly draining way. “I was just talking. Telling him about the mobile internet plan we could roll out. His tribe could benefit and so could Red Star. That’s all.”

  Her company again. She was so very concerned about it, even to her own detriment. “What did I tell you about the desert? Did you listen to nothing I said?”

  “Well, you don’t listen to me, so why should I listen to you?”

  His chest tightened. “I do listen to you. I just do not agree with you.”

  “You can’t even compromise, though. So what’s the point?”

  She’s right. You can’t.

  Well, and so? He was the king. He had to do what was right for his country and that did not include compromises.

  She wouldn’t want to hear that, though, so he stayed silent as he carried her into the cool shade of the tent assigned to her. It was large and he’d had it appointed with every luxury. A big bed piled high with pillows, a bathroom with a shower, the water piped in from the oasis itself then recycled back into it.

  Setting her on the bed, he began to tug off her robes to get her cool, starting with the veil on her hair. She pulled away from him as he eased it off, sparks of annoyance glittering in her gaze. “Stop it,” she muttered. “I can do it myself.”