My Controlling Sheikh Read online

  SLAP.

  My body jerked, more out of surprise than anything else. It was always like that with the first slap.

  “That’s for being deliberately disobedient,” the sheikh said curtly. “I have received reports about your misconduct, the way you keep insisting on flouting the rules because you’re American—-”

  “But I am American,” I said defiantly.

  “But are you in America, milady? If I am in your country and I spit on your flag, would my action be considered excusable simply because I am not American?”

  SLAP!

  The second spank stung as well, but it was also arousing. I didn’t understand why and I had ceased trying to figure it out. All I knew was that the sheikh had woken up something twisted inside me, something that yearned for his touch on my body – whatever way it took.

  “That is for being stubbornly in denial. There is no point resisting the truth. You are part of the royal family now, and you must act that way. If being royal requires you to smile, then it is what you will do. If it calls for you to wear heels, then you will damn well do that, too."

  "Do you even care how sexist that sounds?" I demanded furiously.

  "I don't give a fuck what you think it is," the sheikh retorted mercilessly. "You looking good on official photos make it sell more, which means more proceeds for your charities. You will begrudge them additional funds just because it offends you to wear heels?”

  SLAP!

  But this time, the sheikh's hand lingered on my bottom after the spank.

  It was my favorite part, and I had a feeling the sheikh knew that.

  As he continued to caress my skirt-covered bottom, I asked, “And the third slap?” I tried to sound angry, but I knew I just sounded breathless. “What’s it...for?” The last word turned into a whimper of shocked pleasure as I felt the sheikh's hand curve under my skirts.

  His fingers grazed one bare cheek before squeezing.

  Hard.

  Oooooooooooh.

  The sheikh bent his head close to my ear, taunting in a sexy dark whisper, “You have to ask?”

  He laughed as I tried to struggle, and he quelled my resistance completely when he started kneading my bottom, in a way that had me biting my lip hard so I wouldn’t moan.

  “Such a wanton response,” the sheikh continued to taunt. “It’s almost as if you go against me to have this.” His hand moved down, and I trembled when he slowly ran a hand over the back of my legs. “So let’s have a deal, mm, ukhayyah?”

  His hand moved back up, just as slowly, and the titillating sensation had me squeezing my eyes tightly. “Do something worthy of a member of the royal family...” His hand went back on my bottom. Squeezing the cheek hard, he whispered, “...and I might just give you a kiss.”

  The sheikh removed his hand on my bottom, arranged my skirt and lifted me back to my feet.

  “What kind of incentive is that?” I hissed.

  The sheikh only smirked. “The kind that we both know you want, even if you never admit it.”

  The Other Sister

  “I have placed a letter for you on your desk, Your Highness,” the soldier said upon his return to the palace after another week spent abroad.

  The sheikh took the folded piece of paper with a frown. "You know who it is from?" Who would still bother with handwritten letters in this day and age?

  "Lady Ella, Your Highness."

  The sheikh stilled. “I see.” His gaze strayed back to the letter in his hand, which now felt as precious as a gem. “Thank you.” He nodded at the soldier, dismissing him. Only when he was alone and certain that no one would see his expression did the sheikh unfold the letter.

  Your Highness,

  I hope this letter finds you in good health.

  The sheikh almost smiled at the first line. Knowing Ella, he supposed that the proud temptress had choked several times while writing the words.

  As I know you are very busy with your duties as the king's heir, I will strive to keep this as brief as possible.

  Such tact, the sheikh marveled. It must mean she had a huge favor to ask. An increase in her allowance, perhaps? He had never thought she was the type, but he had also learned never to trust people at face value. For all he knew, she could be as mercenary as the rest of them.

  Before my mother left to join the king in their wedding trip, she had informed me that I am to seek your guidance since nineteen here is still not of legal age. I realize then that I may have to ask for your assistance for what I intend to do.

  Seek his guidance? Ask for his assistance? How fiercely independent she was, and how stubbornly proud. Both of them knew those were not the right terms to use at all. In this kingdom his word was law, and she had no choice but to obey his command as both her guardian and acting liege.

  I’ve become recently acquainted with your kingdom’s history and have found it very interesting. Last week, I completed the short-term certificate course as a tour guide for historical tours in the palace. I have assisted in two student tours so far, and you’ll be happy to know I haven’t lost anyone in the palace yet.

  Reading between the lines, everything suddenly became clear to the sheikh. His doubts were vanquished, and he even felt slightly ashamed for thinking Ella was as mercenary as all the women he had taken to his bed.

  The accomplishment she spoke of was impressive, especially when one considered how Ella had been a reluctant princess from the start. It only meant one thing of course, and his blood heated at the thought of how he would reward his own little Cinderella.

  Impatient now, the sheikh read the last lines of the letter.

  Also, I was told the Chamber of History was looking for an intern. I was wondering if I could apply for it?

  Thank you for your time.

  Sincerely,

  Ella

  And the plot thickens, the sheikh thought grimly. In all the years it had existed, the Chamber of History had never sought an intern. He had a feeling his half sister Lady Dezza was behind it. Whatever plans that woman had hatched, he was certain it was meant to cause Ella harm.

  A contemplative silence filled the study as the sheikh slowly refolded the letter and took painstaking care to follow the meticulously scored lines.

  Since the wedding, he had been playing a dangerous game of duplicity. When official duties forced him and Ella together, the sheikh made sure he was everything from condescending to antagonistic – whatever it took to keep people from guessing the truth.

  In public, he was able to ruthlessly keep himself in control.

  But in private, the sheikh was unable to keep his passions in a leash. He had a desperate need to feel her flesh under his hands, and he sought to satisfy this desire even if it had to be under the guise of punishment. It was a game he had enjoyed playing, but now that Dezza had made a move, the sheikh knew the time of taking things easy was over.

  The sheikh picked the phone and put a call to his secretary. “Have Lady Ella come to my study immediately.”

  The Kiss

  I’m not excited to see him again. I tried to convince myself of this, but even to my ears it sounded like a blatant lie. As I made my way to the sheikh's study, I found myself constantly worrying about my appearance.

  When I passed by a gilt-edged full-length mirror along the way, I couldn’t resist the temptation. I backtracked and paused before it.

  A small curvy woman stared back at me, her honey blond hair up in a simple chignon, her gray eyes sparkling, and a rosy tint to her slightly rounded cheeks. Her skin was fairer than usual, but the dark purple dress complemented it, making her complexion look like ivory rather than sallow. The gown had a high waistline, emphasizing the fullness of her breasts, while its flowing skirt made her legs look longer.

  Was I pretty enough for the sheikh? The question popped out of nowhere, and I flushed at the thought.

  No, drat it.

  I didn’t want to be pretty. I just wanted to be...presentable. That was all I cared about, and I was st
ill trying to convince myself of this when I reached the sheikh's study.

  "His Highness is already expecting you, milady."

  "Thank you, Charles."

  I stepped inside, and Charles quickly pulled the door closed behind me.

  The sheikh was seated behind his desk, a document in his hand, and just like that my composure fled.

  How had I forgotten how beautiful he was?

  His dark hair shone under the light and even with his head bent, his attractiveness was undeniable, his powerful aura unmitigated even when he wasn’t standing to his full height.

  The sheikh suddenly looked up, catching me staring at him.

  Again..

  Tearing my gaze away, I sank to a curtsy, muttering, “Your Highness.” I wasn’t so stubborn to repeat the same mistake again.

  “Lady Ella.” When I straightened, I found the sheikh on his feet, and he looked even more commanding, more gorgeous this way that I found myself gulping.

  And that’s normal, I told myself. He was inhumanly attractive. It was normal for anyone to be affected this way.

  “Please sit down, my lady.” He gestured to the seat across his desk.

  I thought about telling him I wanted to stand, saw the glint in his eyes, and knew the sheikh was just waiting for me to disobey him.

  Since I wasn’t sure I was up to a spanking right now, I said promptly, “Thank you, Your Highness.” I took a seat as ordered.

  “Good girl,” the sheikh murmured.

  The words should have made me bristle but instead my stupid body heated up, as if the sheikh's approval was something it longed for.

  “Congratulations on completing the course,” the sheikh continued. “I have taken that one as well, and I know it is not easy for a foreigner to finish.”

  I mumbled my thanks. It was so unusual and awkward to receive such a straightforward compliment when we had mostly been sniping at each other like cats and dogs.

  “However...”

  I should have known there was a catch.

  The sheikh clasped his hands behind his back. “I would like to know how you learned about the internship.”

  Oh. Even as I wondered why it had to matter, I nevertheless told him about the Sheikh of Layla, who had spoken to me several times during his official visit last week. He had been very friendly and when I mentioned about my interest in history, he told me about the joint project his kingdom had with Kivr.

  “And this internship, you will be under whose supervision?”

  “The Sheikh of Layla, Your Highness.”

  “I see.”

  I frowned at the ambiguity of his answer. “So...do you approve?”

  “No.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Why not?” Wasn’t this what he wanted? For me to do stuff that was “worthy” of daughters of the royal family?

  The sheikh shrugged. “It is enough that I said no.”

  Now I wasn’t just confused but suspicious, too. “I don’t get it,” I declared bluntly. “Last time we talked, you told me you want to be more involved with royal duties and now that—-”

  His voice chilly, the sheikh demanded, “Do I have to remind you my word is law, milady?”

  Bastard, I thought. But then something occurred to me, a painful but possible truth, and I asked tightly, “Is it because you’re afraid I’d end up embarrassing you if I do something wrong, and your precious royal family would be a laughingstock?”

  “Those are your words,” the sheikh said icily, “not mine.”

  Those are your words, not mine. I mimicked his words out of pure spite, and I made a face at him, too. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn’t help it. Anger was my only defense to keep myself from dwelling on the hurt. More and more I was beginning to believe I had hit upon the truth the first try.

  The sheikh didn’t believe in me.

  “You are bordering again on disobedience, Lady Ella.”

  “Yeah, well, what’s new?” I muttered.

  His jaw clenched. “When are you going to stop—-”

  “Stop being what?” I said nastily. “Stop being myself?” Self-disgust filled me. God, I had been so excited to see his reaction at my accomplishments, so excited at the thought that today might just be the day he’d...

  Shit.

  I jumped to my feet. “Forget it.”

  “Lady Ella, calm yourself.” The sheikh's voice held a note of warning.

  “Go to hell.” I was done with this, done with him.

  I stomped towards the door, but halfway across the room, the sheikh said behind me, “Be reminded that disobedience and defying my will is also equivalent to treason in this kingdom.” A dangerous pause. “And in the mood I am in, you will not want to dare me.”

  I froze, tears of helpless rage burning in my eyes.

  I heard the sheikh's footsteps, but even though I saw him stop in front of me, I didn’t look up.

  I didn’t want him to see me crying.

  “You are overly emotional, milady.”

  True enough, but since I didn’t want him to be right, I remained mutinously silent, glaring down at the hapless floor while I fought back tears.

  “It is not right for you to be under the supervision of another sheikh when you are a member of my family.”

  My head shot up at his words.

  “That is the reason of my refusal. That alone and nothing like the nonsense you started spouting the moment you came to my study.” The sheikh's tone held a note of censure as he said, “The chip on your shoulder is too big, milady.”

  Head still reeling at what I thought he was saying, I ignored his last insult and focused on the most important fact. “Then...you don’t mind if—-”

  His face softening marginally, the sheikh said, “I will be proud to have you speak about the kingdom’s history to those who wish to learn it, but only—-” The sheikh's voice became hard. “And I do mean only under my supervision. It is my only condition, and if you agree, I shall inform the head of the project about your intended involvement.”

  “Of course I agree.” I shook my head incredulously. “I can’t believe that’s what you were objecting to. It’s crazy. You know that, right? You just want to be the one who orders me around and not other people?”

  The sheikh shrugged.

  A choked laugh escaped me.

  His eyes blazed.

  I stopped laughing, asking nervously, “W-what is it?”

  “That’s the first time I heard you laugh.”

  I froze.

  “Do it again.”

  And because it was such a silly command, I ended up laughing again, a little more nervously than before. “You’re crazy,” I told him. Did he really think people could laugh at command?

  “That is the second time you’ve called me crazy,” the sheikh murmured lazily. “You know I’ve sent men to the execution block for far less than that?”

  My jaw dropped not because I was seriously scared but because I couldn’t believe he could be that petty.

  The sheikh suddenly laughed.

  My eyes widened. “You were lying!”

  “And you fell for it,” he said with a smirk.

  My head reeled even more, and I almost wanted to pinch myself just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The sheikh was always serious as hell. Always. And somehow, I had just heard him laugh! I had made him laugh.

  “Lady Ella?” As he spoke, the sheikh tipped my chin up, making me jerk at the suddenness of his touch.

  When our eyes met, I found my throat turning dry, the brightness of his gaze doing strange things on my body—-

  Oh no, no, no—-

  Please don’t—-

  But it was too late.

  I was wet again.

  Impossibly, undeniably wet, and even as I pressed my thighs together under my skirt, there was no stopping it, the moisture soaking my panties in a moment.

  The sheikh's nostrils flared, as if he, too, knew of his effect on my body. “I need you to answer me honestly, ukha
yyah.”

  The last word sounded so beautifully exotic on his lips. It wasn’t the first time he had called me that, and wetting my lips, I asked tremulously, “W-what does it mean?”

  “Little sister.” The sheikh's lips twisted in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  Oh.

  It worked like a bucket of ice-cold water, reminding myself of the painful reality of my life, and that was that I had no business feeling like this about him of all people.

  “I need to go.” I tried to pull away, but the sheikh's grip only tightened.

  “Not until you answer me.” He didn’t wait for me to speak and went straight at it, his voice turning abrupt as he asked, “Have you ever been kissed by a man?”

  My eyes widened. That was one question I had never expected him to ask.

  “Have you?” the sheikh insisted.

  I shook my head.

  “Good.” His eyes blazed with such intensity, that I became all the wetter for it. “Another question, ukhayyah.”

  “You said just one,” I protested unevenly.

  “This will be the last,” he promised huskily.

  My toes curled at his tone. A small sensible voice told me that this was getting onto dangerous territory again. But with the sheikh looking at me like I was the most beautiful girl on earth, I couldn’t help it.

  Throwing common sense out of the window I asked, “What is it?”

  “Would you like to claim your reward?” His lips dropped an octave. “Would you like me to have your first kiss?”

  Oh. My. God.

  There was only one answer to that.

  “Yes—-”

  And before I knew what he was planning, the sheikh had bent his head and kissed me.

  Even though I expected it, I still stiffened in shock, a part of me wondering if this was all a dream.

  The sheikh's lips brushed against mine, over and over until my lips started to part. His tongue immediately slid in, taking advantage. It was strange and incredible, the feeling of his tongue inside my mouth. When I whimpered, the sound seemed to trigger something inside of him, making the sheikh deepen the kiss. His tongue stroked mine more boldly and explored my mouth more thoroughly.