Sheikh's Purchased Princess (17 page)

When her hands went to the fastenings of her tunic, he pulled them away. Instead, he turned her around, planting them on the wall.

“Keep them there,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “Don't you dare move them.”

She flexed her palms against the cool surface, whimpering as she felt his hands slide along her sides. There was something utterly masterful about him, perfectly in control…except for her. He was a man in control of an entire country, but when his hands were on her, she could feel a wildness there that never appeared anywhere else.

He stood behind her, so close that she could feel his legs pressed against hers, the hard rise of his erection against her lower back. She groaned as his hands squeezed her breasts through the thin silk, finding her nipples with unerring accuracy and rolling them between his fingers until they were hard.

“Oh please,” she murmured, pushing back against him. “Oh please…”

“It is a good thing you are wearing heels,” he growled. “Otherwise, I would break my back.”

She started to ask what he meant, but then she gasped with surprise as he rolled her tunic up over her hips. Underneath she wore thin trousers, and those he unbuttoned, letting them drop to her ankles.

“Well, well, I see that you have been making good use of your allowance,” he purred.

She blushed, aware of what he had seen. She had of course bought underwear, but she had been unable to resist the pretty, lacy things she had never had the opportunity to buy before. It seemed like such a shame to wear such beautiful clothes over simple cotton. Her panties were far more black lace and imagination than they were cloth.

Emily held her breath as he traced the edge of the fabric where it cut across her buttock. She knew how dark it was, how fair she looked underneath it. She thought he would simply let it drop to the ground with her trousers, but instead, he took a firm grip on it. With no more warning than that, he tore it from her body easily.

“I think you should wear things like that all the time,” he growled. “It makes such a satisfying sound when torn, don't you agree?”

Before she could catch her breath to reply, his hand pressed down between her legs, sliding along her slit and encouraging her to spread her legs.

“Ah, perfect,” he crooned, “I can see you do agree.”

Emily thought that if she got any hotter, she would burst into flames. They could both feel heated wetness between her legs. At some point, she had become incredibly aroused by their kiss, by his quick, powerful motions, by the sheer physicality of this man.

He rocked his hand underneath her, sliding first one finger inside her and then another. Just as she was adjusting herself to this intimate invasion, his other arm looped in front, pushing the tunic aside to touch her clit. She had been waiting for this touch, and she groaned, pressing her forehead against the cool wall.

“You…you're driving me crazy,” Emily moaned, and then she bit back a high-pitched yelp as his fingers moved faster, more roughly.

“Good,” he growled. “Then you will have a vague idea how I felt, watching you charm all those men, watching all those eyes on you and knowing that I was the one that you were going home with…knowing that as soon as I got you alone, I was going to do exactly this.”

He had absolutely no mercy on her, and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She braced herself against the wall, forcing herself to take the waves of pleasure as they washed over her, higher and higher until she knew that she had to crest or she might simply go insane.

She could feel the heat of her response rise up, but just as she was about to tumble over the edge, Adnan drew his hands away. She was left shaking and quivering, with absolutely no way to draw herself over the edge, and her cry was one of rage and surprise.

“Adnan!”

“Beautiful, so beautiful, and so very enchanting when you are right on that razor's edge. I should keep you like this for nights on end. I should draw you out until you can barely remember what a climax is, only that you want it so, so very much.”

She could feel the heat inside her surge at his words, but he was already shaking his head.

“Don't worry, sweetheart, I could never be so cruel. Right now, what I want is your pleasure, and you are going to find it with me buried deep inside you.”

His hands moved to her hips, lifting her ever so slightly so that she was in the perfect position. For just a bare moment, she could feel the blunt tip of his manhood pressed against her hot entrance, and then he pushed inside her. He entered her with one long slow thrust, and he did not stop until he was buried to the hilt.

For a moment, they simply breathed together. She could feel her palms sliding against the wall. Adnan's grip on her hips made her feel absurdly small and delicate. He overwhelmed her, and she loved every single moment of it.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice rough and dark. “Does it feel good to have me so close, so deep inside you?”

She knew with a kind of heart-deep instinct that he wouldn't move, would stop entirely, if she didn't say yes. Her love for this man swelled up, and it nearly spilled out of her lips. It would have if she hadn't stopped herself.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes, it feels so damn good…”

She felt more than heard him sigh as he started to thrust into her, holding her still and steady even as he was slowly losing the iron control that he’d always had as long as she’d known him. Now she could see the core of him, the man of passion who had saved her from a terrible fate. This was the man she loved, this was the man that she couldn't live without, and as he pushed into her again and again, she knew that no matter what he asked her for, she would give it.

This was who she needed. This was who she loved.

Adnan's motions grew more uneven, and with every thrust, he threatened to drive her into the wall. She could feel his pleasure start, the way he quivered with need and want. His hands gripped her hips to the point of pain, and she relished the idea of seeing bruises there in the morning.

“Please, please, I need you,” she whispered. “God above, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything else…”

Her words tipped him over the edge. He thrust into her one last time, pouring himself deep into her body. She could feel the way he shuddered, and the way he bit her shoulder; it was all perfect, all completely perfect.

She didn't know she was crying until she felt the tears run down her face, dripping off the point of her chin.

“Emily?”

“No, it's all right,” she murmured, but he still pulled out of her gently, lifting her up in his arms to bring her to the bed.

“This has been happening too often,” he said, coming to rest by her side. “What is the matter?”

There were a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand ways that she could have answered it, but at the end, she only shook her head.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He looked skeptical at that, but finally he nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“All right. Tomorrow.”

She allowed him to strip her clothes off, and when she slid her nightgown over her head and crawled into bed next to Adnan, she felt as if things might be all right.

Tomorrow, I'll tell him the truth,
she thought.
There is nothing to lose, and at the very least, I will go back to New York knowing that I have done everything I could.

Despite her resolve, her dreams were troubled things, dark and haunted by shadows. She was looking for someone who might help her, but no matter how much she cried out, no one ever came…

***

Adnan did not often confront a problem he could not solve. Where calm logic and a forceful personality failed, his wealth and his position as sheikh often came in to carry the day.

The truth was, however, that no matter how many victories he had under his belt, there was nothing he could do about this problem, the one that was growing to consume more and more of him.

Try as he might, he could not come around to a solution for the predicament that he and Emily were in. A month hadn't made him less attracted to her; if anything, it had only cemented his wild need to have her close.

I need her,
he thought, and his heart squeezed with love.

Yes, love.

It had taken him too long to realize it, but looking down at her tear-stained sleeping face now, he had to admit that he was in love with the musician from Queens. She was the opposite of everything he had expected the woman he loved to be. He had assumed at some point he would marry a woman of suitable rank and wealth, someone who would bring connections to his business holdings and his country.

How was he to know that the woman who would capture his heart would be a nearly penniless girl from the United States?

It was ludicrous, but it had happened, and now he was consumed by the idea of a wedding between them, the happily ever after that the tales always promised and that so few people actually received.

It seemed the cruelest joke in the world that she did not want him.

He had suspected it from the first, but her tears this evening had proved it. Even when everything was going well, something in her craved her home. He had gambled on being able to get her out of his system in a month, and at the moment, he could only marvel at how he had lost.

As he watched her, he saw tears well up behind her closed eyes. She had done this off and on over the last few nights, crying without a sound.

His heart torn to pieces, he held her, murmuring over and over again that he was going to keep her safe.

“No, no,” she moaned. “I don't want this. I don't want this. Please.”

“Then you won't have to anymore,” he whispered. “I promise, little love, I will send you home. I swear.”

She grew still after that, even if the occasional tears still flowed down her face.

Adnan took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out. He did this over and over again until he was calm. He had to be calm, and he had to do what was right for both of them.

No matter what it cost him. No matter how it hurt.

Chapter Eighteen

When Emily awoke, her head felt stuffed with cotton. The bed was empty, but that wasn't unusual. Adnan was a busy man, and no matter how much she might have liked him to stay with her, he had many responsibilities.

She took a shower, wondering what he was doing, her thoughts full of what she was going to tell him. The more she thought about it, the more she knew that she was making the right decision. He might turn her away, he might even laugh at her, but at the end of the day, she was doing nothing more than telling him the truth.

Emily dressed in a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt, and as she finished pulling the shirt over her head, she realized that she wasn't alone in the apartment.

Startled, she peeked out of her room, and saw Adnan standing at the window, gazing out over the skyline of Nahr. For a moment, she simply took in how handsome he was, standing there in casual clothes. Just looking at him made her heat beat faster, and she suspected that would continue no matter how long she knew him.

She was just taking a deep breath to speak when he turned. There was a polite expression on his face that for some reason sent chills through her. It reminded her of the nights when Adnan was only physically present; his mind and heart were elsewhere. The words that she had been going to speak died on her lips.

“You are awake, that is good,” he said, nodding. “I only have a few minutes before I need to be away, so this should be quick.”

“No,” Emily said softly, her voice small and wounded. She knew what was coming, and even after all the time she’d spent thinking about it, now that the moment had come, she felt ill.

“I have decided that as of this morning, you are free to go. This experiment is at an end. By the end of the week, you will be back in Queens, a much richer woman.”

Frantically, Emily searched Adnan's face for any sign that he was joking, but there was none. Instead, he looked as if he were settling a business arrangement, one with which he was not altogether satisfied.

“Adnan, we can't—”

“I understand that the month is not up yet, but I fail to see any reason to draw out the inevitable,” he said, his voice smooth and even bored.

“The inevitable?” she asked. He nodded.

“Yes. This…experiment was unworthy of both of us, and for that, I must apologize. I was misguided, and…and I am sorry if I hurt you.”

Emily gazed at him, her eyes shining with tears.

“You're hurting me now,” was all she could say.

He flinched at that, and despite the situation, a part of her took heart. He still cared enough about her to want to avoid hurting her, at least.

“It will pass,” he said with confidence.

She felt as if the world were tilting out from underneath her. Instinctively, she reached out for him, but he’d turned away. Instead, he gazed out over the city. It occurred to her that he was somehow too frightened to look at her.

“You are very young,” he said, and now he was calmer, as if he were speaking the words of a speech that he had memorized. “These things…these things will make more sense when you are older.”

“Don't you dare,” she growled. “Don't you dare tell me that you are doing what is right for me. You're not my father. You don't get to tell me what's right and what's wrong as if I were a child.”

“You have gone through a traumatic experience,” he continued as if she had not spoken. “And whether I wanted to or not, I have contributed to it. Life is never easy, and I know that, but it has been very difficult for you of late.”

“You think being with you is difficult?” she demanded. “You think that I need to be protected…from you?”

He turned to her, and the sadness and resignation in his eyes took her breath away. She had seen him furious, stabbed, beaten, and vicious, but she never thought that the proud sheikh of Nahr could look that defeated.

“At this point? Yes. I need to make the right decision for both of us. You will be going tomorrow.”