Saving the Sheikh (The Legacy Collection) (7 page)

He pulled her closer, rubbing her arched body against his growing excitement. “Whatever I want. I like that sound of that.”

When he leaned down to kiss her, she spun her face away. His firm hand took her chin and turned it back, forcing her to look up at him. “Open your mouth for me, Zhang.”

Her lips parted even as she considered fighting him. His mouth came down heavily on hers, plundering her mouth, taking what she might have given willingly. His hands moved to the back of her dress and slid the zipper down. Without breaking contact, he eased the dress over her small hips and dropped it onto the floor.

He straightened and took a step back.

Zhang was too flustered from his kiss to do more than stare at him wordlessly.

He ran a finger from the base of her neck down the curve of her breast and over her flat stomach. “I hate to cover you up again, but I bought this for you.” He moved to retrieve a rectangular box from one of the tables. “Put this on,” he instructed and placed the box in her shaking hands.

Zhang placed the box on a nearby pile of pillows and opened it. A small pair of shimmering royal-blue shorts were paired with a floor-length sheer-white jacket that revealed as much as it pretended to conceal. She slipped the shorts on hastily and shivered with excitement as she secured the jacket with its one button.

Rachid took her by one hand and spun her before him. “You’ll do.”

Her reaction was instant and strong, her shoulders straightened with pride.
Oh, the things I would say if I wasn’t pretending to be afraid.

He laughed down at her. Taking her by one arm, he led her to one particularly lush pile of pillows. He turned on a small radio and a sensual tune filled the room. Then he settled himself down on the pillows and folded his arms across his chest. “You will dance for me.”

Her stomach sank.
Fantasy or no fantasy, that’s not going to happen.

Zhang said, “No, I don’t do that.”

He had that pleased smile on his face again. “You mean, you’ve never danced for a man before?”

She crossed her arms protectively across her chest. “Exactly, and there are certain things that I’m not comfortable with even if this isn’t real.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I am going to enjoy teaching you how to please a man.”

“You can try, but there is nothing about how I dance that will do that.”

Rachid stood and stepped toward her. “Silence, slave, or you will be punished.”

Zhang’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That wasn’t part of our agreement. What kind of punishment?”

For just a heartbeat, Rachid maintained a serious face, then he burst into laughter and said, “I have no idea. I didn’t order props for that contingency. Now, do me a favor and go back to looking scared.”

Zhang joined in the laughter for a moment, filling with a joy she’d thought herself incapable of. Then she schooled her features and attempted a pleading tone. “Please don’t hurt me.”

With one last chuckle, he said harshly, “I will do as I please with you. Now, no more talking.” He circled her as if inspecting a possible purchase. “Every woman can dance, just as every woman can orgasm – all it requires is the right partner.” He kissed her neck from behind and said, “Dancing can be just as intimate, if you allow it to be.”

Okay, I’m in.
Her hands fell to her sides in submission.

“I don’t mind educating you in this, my lovely slave. Pleasing me is your goal, but that doesn’t mean that your own pleasure cannot be found along the way.” He took a step back and said, “Move the parts of your body that you would have my lips taste. Tempt me and I will reward you well.”

Both turned on and feeling a bit foolish, Zhang moved one hand playfully. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles and moved those delicious lips down her fingers and back up to nip gently at the inside of her wrist.

Zhang raised both of her arms above her head and waved her hands in what she considered a poor imitation of what she had seen dancers in the movies do. Rachid took both of her hands in his, held her hands above her and took his time running his lips ever so sensuously down the length of one and then up the length of the other.

He held her eyes and waited

She wiggled one shoulder. His hands slid down her arms and he pushed the collar of her jacket aside so he could kiss what she’d tempted him with. Zhang rolled her head to one side and the movement drew his lips to the curve of her neck. She raised her chin and his worshipping mouth followed that path.

Turning before him, she moved her other shoulder. Instantly his hands came around from behind her and unbuttoned the jacket, easing it off her and letting it drop to the floor. His lips moved across her back to the shoulder she’d wiggled. She arched her back slightly and he caressed her spine and the curve of her back.

Zhang turned again and lifted one foot from the floor. Rachid dropped to his knees and held her foot in one of his hands. He kissed the arch of her foot, the inside of her ankle. He licked the inside of her calf with his hot tongue, then let her foot fall gently back to the floor. He took a moment to appreciate her only remaining wisp of clothing, then slid it down her legs.

Completely exposed again, Zhang didn’t move. Rachid ran a hand warmly up her other leg and lifted it. For a moment Zhang thought he was going to kiss her other foot, but instead he draped her now-shaking leg over one of his shoulders and said, “All good dancing involves the hips.”

Oh, God.

Zhang shifted her hips from side to side and then waited.

Cupping her rear from behind with one hand, Rachid brought Zhang to his mouth. His tongue lapped and parted her. When he paused, Zhang moved her hips slightly and was rewarded with an increase in the speed of his intimate caress. She brought one hand down to steady herself as he teased and entered her, his tongue withdrawing only to circle her pulsing nub.

He paused again and she instinctively arched for him.

He eased her leg back onto the floor and stood again.

“Dance for me, Zhang. Imagine my lips on each part that you move for me, and each temptation will be rewarded. Use your body to show me what you like.”

Suddenly it was difficult to choose which appendage to move first. She wanted his kisses everywhere. The music added a rhythm to her movements. She offered him her arms, her shoulders, her back. She arched her chest and shimmied her small endowments with an enthusiasm she’d never imagined she could. The beat moved her feet, but desire moved her hips. She spun before him, exposing her neck again and again to him.

Looking playfully at him over one shoulder, she wiggled her behind and a grin broke out across his face. He was beside her in a flash, his hot lips making good on their earlier promise. He eased her down onto the pillows to allow himself better access. The mountain gave way beneath them and they rolled together, ending in a tangle on yet another layer of pillows. His clothing denied her the pleasure that would have come from the contact of skin on skin.

She straddled him and said, “You have far too much clothing on.”

He rolled her beneath him and shed his clothing quickly. When he settled himself on top of her, his excitement full and ready for her, he said, “Didn’t I warn you about talking?”

She nodded.

He donned a condom with expertise and spread her legs wider. He lifted her hips and placed a pillow beneath them, positioning her perfectly for him to enter her with ease. And he did, but only with his tip. He entered, then retreated and rubbed against her throbbing folds. When she thought she could take no more, he entered her in one bold thrust that sent heavenly heat rushing through her. When she would have started to move with him, he withdrew again and she almost sobbed.

“If you must speak, then you must beg. Tell me what you want.”

His lips hovered over hers.

His manhood hovered over her ready center.

Zhang’s hands closed hungrily on Rachid’s back. “I want you inside me. Now.”

He licked her bottom lip. “Beg.” His tip teased her folds.

Zhang’s eyes locked with Rachid’s, all pride or pretense falling away. “Please,” she begged urgently. “Please.”

He entered her fully, his hands holding her hips firmly. Just when she thought it couldn’t get better than his forceful thrusts, he adjusted her again and hit a spot that sent her into mindless abandon.

The waves ebbed, but the pleasure didn’t. He rolled so she was straddling him again, with him still inside her. He moved her hips until she met him thrust for thrust. Kneeling gave her the freedom to find her own pleasure while giving him his. She felt his release and bent to kiss him while she enjoyed a second round of ecstasy.

She slumped onto him. When she would have said something, he put a finger to her lips and said, “Don’t speak, I don’t have the energy yet to punish you again.”

She smiled against his finger and nodded.

Their breathing slowed and she fell asleep on top of him.

The next few hours passed with a combination of periodic naps, gentle exploration and slow pleasuring. Pretense was forgotten and they were simply two people who had stepped outside of their regular lives and tasted heaven.

A knock on the suite door abruptly brought them back to reality. Rachid stood quickly, pulled on the pants of his tux and answered the door shirtless, leaving Zhang buried in a pile of pillows. He threw the door open and bellowed in Arabic, “I told you not disturb me.”

A traditionally dressed older man Rachid had yet to learn the name of said quickly, “My apologies, Your Highness, but your father and brother are in the library and wish to speak to you.”

With that, fantasy time shattered like a glass dropped on a tile floor.

“Tell them I will be with them in five minutes.”

The man bowed slightly and closed the door after saying, “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Rachid turned to see Zhang standing in the middle of the room wrapped in one of the tapestries. “Rachid?”

“Get dressed, Zhang.” No use trying to sneak her out – his father knew she was here. There was no other explanation for why he would come to the oasis when they’d already made plans to meet at his palace later that day.

 The castle staff must have called him last night.

And why not? They have no allegiance to me
.

Zhang stepped forward. “What is it? What happened?”

In frustration, Rachid snapped, “Do as I say! Get dressed. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

Zhang searched his expression and apparently didn’t like what she saw. She said, “There’s no way that I’m going to wait here quietly unless you tell me what’s going on.”

Rachid was too busy tucking his shirt into his pants and hunting down his shoes to answer. If Ghalil was with his father, things were going to get worse before they got better. A quick check in the mirror made him groan.

I look like I spent the night doing . . . exactly what I was doing.

Damn.

He tried to tame his wild hair but gave up. It was more important not to keep his father waiting.

I should have anticipated this possibility.

His father would never understand a woman like Zhang. With any luck, her identity wasn’t known. The faster he got her out of the country, the safer it would be for her. Instinctively, he took a key off a small table near the door.

She hadn’t moved.

He groaned. “You need to get dressed and be ready to leave by the time I return.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off and said, “My father is here.” With that, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

The door rattled as Zhang tested it.

Rattled louder as she retested it.

A thud that might have come from an angry open hand smacking against the door revealed her feelings about being detained. As did the Chinese curses that followed him down the hallway: “Open this door, Rachid.”

A small smile pursed his lips. Each castle door had been built as a last line of defense for a family to hide behind if the castle were ever invaded and should be able to contain one petite, furious Zhang.

The door rattled again.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury of time to watch her test his theory. He navigated the long hallways with purposeful haste. When he entered the library he walked directly to his father, gave a slight bow of deference and said, “Father.” Despite the look of anger he saw on his younger brother’s face, he greeted him warmly: “Ghalil.”

Dressed in a simple, traditional white thobe, white keffiyeh and black agal, the older man was an intimidating figure. His voice was soft, but a man like Amir didn’t require volume to make his displeasure known. With his hands clasped behind his back, he said, “I received a rather disturbing phone call this morning.”

Rachid bowed his head in acknowledgement. “You shouldn’t have been contacted, Father. It’s a personal matter.”

“I would say kidnapping is a family concern,” his father countered calmly.

“Kidnapping?” Rachid thought back to the role-playing he and Zhang had enacted in front of the pilot the night before.
We were that convincing?
He didn’t hide the small smile the memory elicited.
Seriously? That’s why the staff involved my father?
“Let me assure you . . .”

Ghalil interrupted, “It’s as I said, Father. He doesn’t care how this may endanger all of us. He thinks only of himself and satisfying his immoral lifestyle.”

How do you really feel, Ghalil?
Rachid thought sarcastically. His younger brother’s opinion wasn’t a surprise or a concern at the moment, but the displeasure on his father’s face was. “None of this will endanger anyone. She came with me willingly and she leaves this morning.”

Ghalil continued his verbal assault and went nose to nose with his brother. “You think we care if she was willing? Victim or woman of no virtue, it matters not. She’s here and evidence that you’re not fit to rule.”

A hot fury seared through Rachid. His hands clenched at his sides. “Speak of me as you wish, Brother, but you will not mention her again.”