Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2) (4 page)

L
iv shivered
as he once again ran his tongue over her sensitive folds. As she stared at the face in the mirror, she saw her features transform from confusion, to curiosity, and then to pure lust. Back and forth he moved around her outer rim, then he plunged his tongue inside her opening, caressing her inner muscles.

"Oh my God." She took in a breath as he dipped inside her again. She glanced at the door. It was locked, but there were people outside, people who could hear her if she screamed in pleasure. Sliding her hands down from above her head, she curled her fingers into the counter and returned her focus to the mirror. The next time he entered her, she dipped her hips, urging him to go deeper.

The sight was so erotic, watching herself as she was tongued by a gorgeous man. As Nayo moved his wicked tongue over her skin, she watched her eyes widen and then haze over with lust.

"You taste incredible," he murmured right before he dipped in for more. She contracted her inner muscles around his tongue, trying to draw him deeper.

In response, he retreated and moved up to her clit. Liv gasped and stood on her tip toes as electrifying heat shocked her core.

"Yes," she whispered as he pushed one finger inside of her. "Oh yes!"

He continued to slide in and out of her body as he focused his tongue on her clit. She was racing now, climbing at a speed much too fast to maintain control.

She planted her feet back on the floor and moved her hips in time to his thrusts, making short, feminine whimpers and groans as she came closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, Olivia," he said with that sexy accent. "I want to feel you tighten around my fingers." He plunged two digits deep inside her body and scraped his teeth against her clit. It wasn't enough to hurt, but the sharp bolt of sensation was more than enough to drive her over the edge.

Liv came hard, shaking under the force of her pleasure. Tears stung her eyes as her entire body went numb with bliss.

Nayo removed his fingers and exchanged it for his tongue, making long, deep strokes that made her body quiver with each stroke and drew every last drop out of her orgasm.

When the last threads of her orgasm began to fade, Nayo leaned back and ran his hands over the outsides of her thighs. "That was amazing."

She looked down and chuckled. "I don't know how much longer I can stand." Her legs were already shaking, and she was afraid of embarrassing herself and falling onto the floor in a heap.

Nayo stood and lifted her off the ground. Turning their bodies, he settled her on the counter and then moved in between her legs.

"You are so beautiful when you come," he whispered as he slid his fingers down the side of her cheek. "I could watch you orgasm over and over again and never tire of it."

"I don't know how much of that I can handle." She glanced down and saw that he was still aroused--painfully so. "You haven’t—"

"No." He framed her face with his hands. "What you have given me was enough." He slid his thumb across her lips. "For now."

He tilted his head and invaded her mouth. Liv raised her hands and clasped his biceps, holding herself steady against the onslaught of emotion. The kiss was so passionate, so intense. By the time he finally retreated for air, she knew what she had to do.

She didn't know if she could make him orgasm as hard as he did her, but her former boyfriends had never complained about her skills. She had to try to at least give some of the pleasure back that Nayo had given her. It was only fair.

"What is it?"

She flashed him a mischievous glance, then dropped her gaze to his cock straining to be released and slid off the counter.

"I said you don't have to."

"Shh." She placed her finger on his lips, silencing him. "I want to."

She dropped to her knees, slowly slid his boxers down, and found herself eye-level with his cock.

"Olivia. . ."

Wetting her fingers, she slid them over the tip of his length, collecting the bead of moisture already forming. She spread open her hand, cupping his wide shaft and stroking him from root to tip and back again.

"Oh god." He placed his hands on the counter in front of him as she slid her lips around his head.

He started muttering in Arabic. Liv had no idea what he was saying, but the language was damn sexy. She tightened her grip on his shaft and stroked him with both her mouth and her hand. In response he took one hand off the counter and threaded his shaking fingers in her hair. Liv groaned as he tugged lightly on her head, applying just the right mixture of force and pain to overcome the fatigue of her orgasm and fill her with desire once more.

"Yes, that’s it. Now harder. Fuck." He tightened his grip on her hair and moved his hips, performing shallow thrusts into her mouth. He was losing control, she realized. Knowing that he was completely under her spell made her feel sexy and powerful . She whimpered her need against his cock as she relaxed her throat muscles and took him a little deeper.

"Oh yes," he whispered. "That's it. Take all of me." He thrust harder, bumping his thick cock against the back of her throat. With her free hand, Liv cupped his balls and gently tugged them away from his body.

"Fuck." He thrust harder, deeper. Tears stung her eyes as he pulled harder on her hair. Pain mixed with desire, and her mind fogged with need. She squeezed harder, moved quicker, taking his cock deeper and deeper.

"I'm going to come," he whispered as he slowed his movements and loosened his grip on her hair. She responded by moving her head closer to him and gripping his balls tighter.

"You want it, don't you?"

She looked up at him and hoped that her answer showed in her features.

"You like taking me deep." It wasn't a question but she groaned and nodded her head.

"You like it when I do this, too, don't you?" He tightened his grip on her hair. She groaned and quickened her movements.

"Fuck, yes." He started moving his hips once more. "Yes."

Desire rolled through her as his cock seemed to swell in her mouth. He gripped her hair, calling her 'his dirty little slut' and 'whore.' In the back of her mind, she knew that she should have been offended. The phrases were degrading and offensive, but instead the words made her hotter than she ever had been in her entire life.

She whimpered and took him deeper. Sucking and stroking until his body was shaking. Then, in the next stroke, he erupted, spilling his seed deep inside of her mouth.

"That's it, take it all. Take all of me." He continued to pump, filling her until she thought she might break. Their gazes met, and she saw his feature full of wonder and joy. Seconds later, he was retreating and pulling her up into a standing position.

"Nayo."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her back up onto the counter. Before she could speak, before she could even think, he had his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, but Liv was afraid to break the spell. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened there. All she knew was that she had enjoyed his rough behavior far more than she probably should.

Nayo was shaking. He didn’t lift his head from Liv’s hair partly because he didn’t want to leave her warmth, or her tantalizing scent.

The other reason was because he was slightly embarrassed. Back in his home country, women were treated more or less as objects. It was expected that a man would dominate them both in the bedroom and out. The young females offered to him were meek in both mind and body. They wanted to be used for his pleasure and often begged him for more. To deny them would be an insult to their families, so he took what he wanted from them and then sent them back home to their parents. At first it felt awkward talking down to them and using them for his own, personal satisfaction, but after the first few times he had come to like the power exchange. It wasn’t long before he craved it. In a life that was so controlled by duty, honor and tradition, it was comforting to have a place in his life where he could do and take what he wanted without consequence. As a result, he had developed the reputation of being a hard and unforgiving man, one who wasn’t afraid to wield power in the bedroom.

Which only added to his selection of women. Parents offered up their daughters like presents, hoping to win favor with both him and his father. The women themselves wanted to experience being fucked by a prince, and hoped that they could get pregnant and gain some leverage with the royal family.

As a result, Nayo never allowed himself to penetrate a woman, instead satisfying himself with other positions and places. Despite the women’s eagerness to please, it was always a mechanical fucking, devoid of any connection or emotion. The women had their own agenda and so did he. Once he was satisfied, he sent them to Taz, who either fucked them again or sent them home. Nayo never saw them again.

As time went on, and his wedding day approached, it became harder and harder for him to find satisfaction. He learned that he didn’t like meek-minded women, but instead preferred them with a little spunk and sass. He dreaded marrying a woman who was stiff and lacked personality, but knew that he could never deny her publicly. To do so would insult both her and her family, and ruin a union between two powerful Arab states that took his father decades to build.

He confessed his difficulty to his father, who laughed at his comment. It was a phase, he assured him, nothing more. Why, he had such a thought when he was younger himself. This trip to America was a gift from his father, one last hurrah while securing some business holdings with the Black family. He was to get rid of this desire for strong-willed women in the States, so that he could return to his country and take his proper place as his father’s successor and carry on the country’s old tradition.

Carry on tradition by marrying a woman who didn’t like him, much less love him. Their conversations were awkward, and her frustration with the situation showed. While he enjoyed dominating in the bedroom, he wasn’t a rapist, and he would never force a woman to do anything she didn’t want.

He had tried sampling women in America, but none interested him enough to take to bed. They were all too vapid or selfish, and they talked about things that he not only didn’t understand, but had no interest in, like celebrities, clothes, or hair.

Then came Liv, wonderful Liv with her questions and her laughter. She was quirky, of that there was no doubt, but there was a genuine inquisitiveness there that appealed to him. She was instinctive and smart, and the story about her tattoo almost brought him to tears. She was an amazing woman and he knew that he had to have her.

He expected her to be appealing. What he didn’t expect was for her to be overwhelming. Her scent, her taste, everything about this woman had assaulted his senses and reduced him to little more than an animal. He had reined in his darker and more dominating side, knowing that a woman such as she wouldn’t appreciate being controlled. Instead he offered his services to her, submitting himself to her pleasure.

The results were amazing—more than he ever could have hoped for. He had never seen a woman orgasm so hard, or so fully. A certain sense of male pride had overcome him, so much so that when she offered to return the favor, he couldn’t tell her no.

But he should have stopped it. He knew that he was going too far, too fast. He was losing more and more control by the second, but when she wrapped those delicate lips around his cock, he knew that he was lost. He had threaded his fingers into her hair on instinct, and when she responded positively to his pulling, he could no longer keep his self-control.

At first he started talking to her in Arabic, knowing that his filthy words would be lost on her, but as his desire grew, he switched back and forth between English and his native tongue, and knew at least some of what he had said could be construed as offensive. While the women he took to bed in his home country had enjoyed being called whores—for that was what they truly were—he had no idea how a strong, American woman would react to his rough and derogatory demeanor. He wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to see him again.

“Nayo?” Liv asked. “Are you okay?”

She tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,
habibti
. I didn’t mean. . .” His throat constricted around his apology. Sheikhs never apologized, his father had said. Even when they were wrong.

This was different. Liv was the one thing that was going right in his life right now, and he didn’t want to push her away because of something said in the heat of the moment.

“Didn’t mean what?”

“Nothing.” He took in one last breath of her sweet scent and pulled away. “Come on, we must go.”

He felt her inquisitive gaze on her as he dressed, and did his best to try to ignore it. He wasn’t going to apologize for what he did. This was part of who he was. If she didn’t like it, well, then it wouldn’t’ happen again.

He shoved on his shoes with a bit more force than necessary and looked in the mirror. It was a far cry from the business suit and loafers he had on a short time ago. He ran his hands over his jeans, frowning at how American he looked.

“What does Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy mean?” he asked, tracing the letters on his shirt.

Live glanced up at him through the mirror and chuckled. “It’s in reference to a song. Ah, that’s probably all you need to know.”

He frowned, which only made her laugh harder.Grabbing her hand, he marched toward the door.

“I’m not finished.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder and became hard when he noticed how nicely her clothes showed off her curves.

“You’re dressed enough.”

“I need shoes.”

He growled and nodded to the shoes on the floor. “Hurry up.”

As she finished dressing, he cracked open the door and peeked outside. “Shit.