My Controlling Sheikh Page 4

  “If you do not have anything to say," the sheikh said coldly, "then please let go of my sleeve.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “Why are you like this?” I demanded in a hurt whisper. “I don’t understand what you want.”

  Blue eyes blazed angrily down at me, as the sheikh said savagely, “I could say the same of you.”

  Humiliation flooded inside of me when he took hold of my hand and forced my fingers to let go. “Again, good night, milady.”

  This time I didn’t stop him from leaving.

  The Car Ride

  The next day, I found out the sheikh was leaving again. He would be gone for another week. Luke, the sheikh's assistant, informed me of this over breakfast, adding that the sheikh had instructed Luke to be at my beck and call while he was away.

  The whole time Luke spoke, I could only gaze at the empty seat next to me. Seven days, I kept thinking. Seven days of not being able to see the sheikh, seven days of not being able to share meals with him, seven days of not feeling his lips on mine.

  And that’s fine, I told myself. The sheikh was an asshole, and I should just use this time to teach myself to be immune him.

  Or at least that was the plan until I stepped inside the limousine that would take me to school and found the sheikh seated inside.

  The door slammed shut behind me, and the limousine was already moving when I found my voice and demanded, “What are you doing here?”

  “Your school is on the way to the airport. It would be more economic if we shared a ride, don’t you think?”

  My jaw dropped. Who did he think he was fooling? If he cared about the environment that much, then he would have allowed me to drive my old compact car to school rather than ride this gas-guzzling monster every day.

  When I didn’t answer, the sheikh asked, “Luke told you I’d be gone for a week?”

  I nodded, staring stubbornly at the scenery outside the window. Although the kingdom was in the middle of the desert, much of it had been urbanized, creating a modern paradise on sand.

  “You will miss me, of course,” the sheikh murmured mockingly.

  What? Unable to stand the sheer arrogance of the words, I turned towards him, glaring. “You wish!”

  “Finally, you look at me.” The sheikh's lips curved into a smile.

  I didn’t smile back.

  The sheikh sighed. “Surely, you’re not sulking?”

  My teeth gnashed in outrage at his words. “I’m not sulking,” I bit out. “I just don’t want to play your games, the way you blow hot and cold—-”

  The sheikh's smile disappeared and he hissed, “As if you are not the same.”

  “We’re not!”

  “Then what were you doing,” the sheikh gritted out, “receiving a gift from another man?”

  My eyes widened.

  That was what this – what last night – was all about?

  “In our kingdom,” the sheikh said stiffly, “it is not appropriate for a woman to receive any gift from a man. If you accept such a gift, it is equivalent to expressing interest in him.”

  I bit my lip. Hard.

  “You are not going to say anything?” the sheikh charged.

  I looked at him. “And you, Your Highness?” I couldn’t help asking. “Why didn't you tell me that last night instead of walking away?"

  He stilled.

  I knew I should shut up, but I couldn’t. Suddenly, I was tired, unable to take the way we seemed to keep skirting around the truth. Maybe I was just too young, and I couldn’t understand how adults played this game. Maybe I was reading too much in nothing. So many maybes, but I knew that the only way to find out the truth was to speak the truth, too.

  I looked straight into the sheikh's eyes, and this time I didn’t try to hide anything from him. I let him see everything, the confusion, the pain...the longing.

  I knew he was the king's heir, the sheikh whom all the girls dreamed of marrying. I knew he was forbidden, and that he was not right for me for so many reasons. I knew all of these things, but I couldn’t help the way I feel.

  The sheikh drew his breath sharply. “Ella—-”

  It was the first time he had ever said my name without any formal title, and a bittersweet feeling swept over me at hearing him say it. Why did he have to say it now?

  “You were jealous," I said painfully. "But instead of simply admitting it, you chose to hurt me instead."

  Tense silence thrummed between us.

  My head bowed as I waited for him to speak. The silence lengthened, and my body started to shake. Let it not end like this again, I prayed. Dear Lord, please.

  And then I heard it.

  The sheikh's voice, low and rough, as he bit out, “I’m sorry.”

  My head jerked up.

  His intense gaze captured mine, and his voice became fiercer. “And you’re right. I was jealous. I still am.”

  Tears stung my eyes.

  “I know I have no right to be. I know it's wrong to feel this way, but I was jealous, and I will always be fucking jealous where you – ukhayyah – are concerned.”

  For one moment all I could do was stare at him. It just didn’t feel true that he had said the words.

  And he seemed to know that for the sheikh, his eyes still holding mine, said calmly, “You are mine, Lady Ella.”

  Oh.

  Through tear blurry eyes, I managed a shaky smile as I mumbled, “Understood, Your Highness.”

  “If it is fine with you...” The sheikh paused. “We will speak of this when I return. If we talk about it now, it will only serve to distract me throughout the week.”

  I nodded. In the mood I was in, I’d have agreed to anything.

  Also...

  The sheikh considered me a distraction.

  Me – an ordinary small-town girl – was a distraction to the sheikh!

  My toes curled at the thought.

  “I do have one request.” When I gazed at him questioningly, his face remained unsmiling, his voice hard as he said, “When I’m gone, I need you to promise me one thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “You must not have anything to do with the Sheikh of Layla.”

  The old, obedient Ella would have said yes without hesitation. But the new Ella, the monstrously contrary Ella that I became when I was with the sheikh, that Ella looked up at him with pursed lips, a thoughtful look on her face as she asked, “What do I get in return?”

  The sheikh's brows lifted in surprise at the provocative question. A moment later, his lips slowly curved into the sexiest smile.

  Ooooooh.

  Every part of me melted at that smile.

  “Come.” The sheikh purred the word out, and my body melted even more. “If you come here, I shall give you a present in exchange of your promise.”

  “A p-present?” I was melting, melting into a pool of aching need at the forbidden, thrilling promise in the sheikh's intense gaze.

  “But you have to be on your knees.”

  “On my knees?” I felt so dumb at repeating his words, but I couldn’t help it. Everything was so terribly new and exciting to me.

  The sheikh's lips curved as he affirmed, “On your knees.”

  “What kind of present would that be?” I blurted out.

  “You have to ask, ukhayyah?” the sheikh drawled, wide-eyed in mock amazement.

  Oh.

  My face turned red as I realized it was that kind of present he’d be giving me.

  The sheikh was shaking his head. “Perhaps you need me to spell it out.”

  The words alarmed me. “Umm, actually—-”

  “Very well then.” The sheikh's eyes gleamed. “My present for you, milady, is the pleasure of sucking on my cock.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Sexiest. Words. Ever.

  I knew I should be offended, maybe even frightened or disgusted by the offer.

  But I wasn’t.

  How could I be offended when he only knew and spoke the truth?

  Sucking his
cock would be a pleasure.

  Sucking the sheikh's cock would indeed be the very best present.

  Again, the sheikh spoke, his voice a silky command. “On your knees, milady.”

  I sank to my knees, trembling with both fear and excitement.

  “Now, come closer.”

  Still on my knees, I moved towards him until I was once again between the sheikh's muscular thighs.

  He started stroking my hair, and I shivered with pleasure at his touch. His fingers drifted down, cupping my face, and I rubbed my face against his palm instinctively.

  Oh, the feel of his hand on my face.

  Hot and sublime, tender and seductive...I couldn’t get enough of it.

  “You want this?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Good girl.” The sheikh took his hand away. “Now, ukhayyah, unzip me.”

  Swallowing, I nervously reached for the zipper of his pants. I pulled it down, the task made more difficult by my fumbling fingers.

  When the zip was completely down, the sheikh said, “Pull out my cock.”

  I stilled.

  “It won’t bite.” The sheikh's voice was dryly amused.

  Wouldn’t it?

  I wasn’t sure I believed him.

  As if sensing my need for more guidance, the sheikh gripped his cock with one hand. His other hand went to my head, his fingers digging into my hair. Slowly, he guided my head down, and my heart beat harder and harder against my chest as I found myself getting closer and closer—-

  “Open your mouth, ukhayyah.”

  My lips parted.

  His cock slipped in.

  The head of his cock was enormous, forcing my lips to part wider. The sheikh pushed his cock forward another inch, and my mouth was now stretched wide open.

  “Ready?” the sheikh grated out over my head.

  At my nod, he pushed his cock further, slowly but steadily.

  “Relax your throat,” the sheikh commanded when he was halfway in, and I fought to follow his words. I didn’t know how to relax my throat exactly, but I seemed to have done it right because the next thing I knew, his cock was all the way in.

  Above me, the sheikh groaned.

  The sound had me so wet and aching that without a thought, I started sucking. The sheikh stiffened and when I continued to suck, harder and longer, starting with the enormous head of his cock, the sheikh let out another groan just before he released his cock to clasp my head with both hands.

  He guided me patiently, teaching me without words how to pleasure him. I followed him eagerly, and with every stroke of my tongue on his cock, I was rewarded by the sheikh’s groans and the shudders that racked his body.

  The taste of his cock was salty and addictive. I had never thought I’d like the taste of a man’s cock, but I did. At least I liked the taste of his, the sheikh's cock—-

  The thought had my head reeling, and I sucked harder.

  “Ella.” His fingers gripped my head, and suddenly he was moving faster. This time, there was no finesse at all with the way he moved, with the way he fucked my mouth, and oh God, I no longer cared if this made me sound sick, but I liked it. I liked that the sheikh was out of control, and it was all because of me, all because of what my mouth did to his cock.

  Sucking as hard as I could, I also started moving my hands, relying entirely on my feminine instincts as I sought a way to drive him out of his mind. I reached for his balls and squeezed.

  The sheikh jerked.

  I squeezed harder then stroked it, timing my caress with the strokes of my tongue on his cock.

  “Ella.” The sheikh suddenly tried to pull away, but I held on to him tightly, realizing that he was about to come.

  “Ella, dammit—-”

  I refused to let go, and a second later it was too late.

  With a harsh groan, the sheikh came in my mouth. Strong, hard spurts of come ejected into my throat, accompanied by the wild thrusts of his hips, his cock nearly hitting the back of my throat.

  I tried to suck it all in, but he was coming so hard that in the end, some of it started to spill from the corners of my mouth.

  I released him only when the last come had spilled out of his cock, and as I licked the corner of my lips dry, I lifted my gaze to the sheikh—-

  Oooooh.

  I shook on my knees as I saw the emotions swirling in the sheikh's gaze while he stared at me.

  You are mine, those eyes said, just as I am yours.

  A second later, and he had bent close, gripping my hair as he pulled my head back before his mouth covered mine. I gasped at the kiss, but he didn’t ease on the pressure, even kissing me deeper, his tongue claiming every inch of my mouth. “I will call you when I get to Geneva.”

  I swallowed. “You promise?”

  That I cared enough to ask seemed to surprise him. “Yes.” He kissed me hard. “And your promise, Lady Ella,” the sheikh gritted against my lips. “Do not forget.”

  Dimly, I realized that the limousine had slowed down and we had reached the airport.

  The sheikh pulled me up to sit beside him. He cupped my face, his voice nearly feral as he demanded, “Promise me.”

  I whispered shakily, “You don’t even have to ask.”

  THE SHEIKH WATCHED the limousine carrying his precious woman drive away and all the while felt like half of his heart had gone with it.

  Such melodrama does not become a hardened cynic like you, the sheikh chided himself.

  Even though he was still filled with disquiet, the sheikh slowly turned and headed towards the gates of the airport. And yet, even when he had settled on his seat and his private jet had taken off, he remained tense and uneasy.

  Had he made a mistake?

  He knew Ella thought he was a moody bastard, blowing hot and cold on her, one moment kissing her then pushing her away another moment.

  The sheikh's lips tightened.

  If only she knew the truth.

  If only she knew how hard he struggled every time they were alone, how it nearly killed him every time he had forced himself to hold back and not take her the way he wanted to.

  He knew he had only to ask, had only to kiss and touch her, and Ella would surrender, would not think twice of yielding herself to him.

  But it was not right.

  He might be the king's heir, but his life was fraught with danger and would always be so. He was also the most possessive bastard on earth, and no woman would ever find it easy to have him as a husband.

  If he took Ella's virginity, there would be no going back.

  So decide quickly, ukhayyah, the sheikh thought grimly.

  Love me as I love you, and then and only then can I fuck you to your heart’s desire.

  The Other Sheikh

  The sheikh had not called.

  Not on the first day, not on the second, not on the third day. When I got to school, the sheikh was still on my mind, and I was struggling with feelings of hurt neglect.

  Stepping out of the car, I bid Luke and the chauffeur goodbye. Hurrying towards the entrance, I smoothed my hand down my school jacket and skirt.

  “Lady Ella?”

  I looked up and fought not to show my dismay when I realized it was the same man that had been pestering me for days. He was an envoy of the Sheikh of Layla, and I instinctively looked over my shoulder, but the royal family’s limousine had long driven away.

  "Lord Barton, this is really not a good time to talk—-”

  The nobleman handed me a letter. “All I humbly ask is that you take this letter, milady. Please."

  “But—-”

  “It is only a letter, it’s all our sheikh asks. Surely it’s not too much?”

  Alarm bells rang inside my head.

  But even so, I reached for the letter.

  It was just a letter.

  Surely it wouldn't get me into trouble.

  Right?

  The Return

  A knock sounded on my door, and I called out, “Come in.”
<
br />   It was another quiet afternoon after school, and I had spent all of it inside my bedroom. For a change, I was trying to work on the to-do list for female members of the royal family. One of it had been embroidery. I had been at it for over an hour, but I hadn’t improved a bit. The piece of cloth in my hands was stained and contained more drops of my blood than pretty stitches.

  Someone knocked on my door.

  “Lady Ella," Charlie greeted me with a bow. "The sheikh requests your presence in his chambers.”

  My needle paused mid-stitch as I tried to absorb what he was saying. Did he really say the sheikh was here?

  “Lady Ella?”

  Clearing my throat, I asked, “Did you, umm, say the sheikh wanted to talk to me?” The sheikh...who had promised to call me the moment he arrived at Geneva...but didn’t? Did he mean that sheikh?

  “Yes, milady.”

  I scowled. So I hadn’t heard him wrong then. The sheikh was indeed back.

  I set aside my embroidery, fearing I’d end up bringing my needle with me just to prick the sheikh's lying ass. “Isn’t he supposed to be still in the convention?”

  The soldier beamed with pride. “The sheikh was such a great speaker, milady. He managed to make everyone vote for his proposal in just one day. Everyone signed yesterday, and so the sheikh was able to return early.”

  “Oh. That’s great.” For the kingdom, I thought, but not for me.

  Charles seemed to sense my lack of enthusiasm and frowned. “Is something wrong, milady?” And then he paused, an awkward expression falling over his face.

  I knew why, of course.

  He had just remembered that I was the only one in the kingdom his beloved sheikh had never gotten along with.

  Well, that had changed a few days ago but right now?

  We definitely weren’t in good terms.

  I CAME TO THE SHEIKH's private chambers still in my school uniform. No way was I going to dress up for him, not after the way he had treated me.

  The sheikh glanced up the moment I entered the room, but I pretended not to notice it. I had missed him terribly, but no way was I going to let him know that either.

  Walking further inside, I busied myself taking in my surroundings. It was my first time to be here, and I wasn’t surprised that his suite opened to an office-cum-living room. But while I had expected the usual dark colors and leather found in most men’s suites, the outer room turned out to be intimidatingly and unashamedly elegant, with gilded, cream-colored ceilings, walls enhanced by hand-stenciled artwork, rich damask curtains, and an exquisitely preserved Aubusson rug placed under the L-shaped velvet sofa in the corner.