The Sheik Retold(67)

"But what else—" I could sense that the devil in him was perilously close to emerging, but even as I knew this, a pool of moisture grew between my thighs.

I shut my eyes on a gasp as his teeth clamped none-too-gently onto my earlobe. He released my lobe to lick and suck my neck. My mind blurred to sensation and heightening desire until I barely heard his answer through the miasma of lust that enveloped me. Fighting the impulse to touch him, I clenched my hands by my sides.

"You will understand soon enough, my dove," he murmured and then kissed me, a long lingering and devouring kiss—finally the lover's kiss that I had so desperately craved. I met him eagerly, holding nothing back. Our tongues tangled and moans mingled. I thought I would lose my mind in the sultry heat and exquisite taste of his kiss. His breath was hot against my skin as he plied fevered kisses to my neck and shoulder and peeled my robe away.

I became aware of his hands, stroking, lightly skirting over my naked body and scorching my skin until both rested on my bottom where he conducted a leisurely exploration, each squeeze and caress rousing rapturous ripples of lust. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I tangled my fingers in his hair, urging him to my breasts. He complied, suckling each in turn, blinding me with such sublime sensation that I thought I would go mad with my want.

"I have still one desire that remains unfulfilled, ma belle." The heat of his gaze seared me, but he said nothing more, letting his actions speak instead. He drew back a few inches to regard me with his heavy-lidded, lust-filled gaze while his fingers lightly caressed the crevice of my buttocks. I sucked in a sharp breath when his middle finger delved inside. My breathing quickened, and my heart galloped wildly as my consciousness awakened to what he had in mind. I suddenly recalled a remark he had made the very first night—a remark that had filled me with horror. Know that if you persist in this pretense, I will only be more compelled to use you as a boy. Of course it is no great difference to me. I will have you either way— and in any way that I choose.

He had never made any further mention of it, had never even hinted at his wish to use me in such a way—until now.

"How can you expect such a thing?" I asked with barely disguised horror.

He responded with a blithe shrug. "I am but a beast, a devil, a savage, after all. If you want your freedom, you will pay the price. "

I regarded him blankly as my mind struggled to process what he had said. I shook with apprehension but took courage in the promise of freedom. "You will let me go?"

"Please me as you did before, ma belle," he stroked a thumb over my mouth, "and I may well be predisposed to do so."

"I don't care what you do to me. It is nothing to me anymore," I lied once more. Inwardly I steeled myself against the terror of facing the ultimate degradation.

"That is not the attitude of compliance I seek, my dove."

"What do you want from me? Do you expect me to beg you to sodomize me?" In the end, I would accept his coercion in return for my freedom, but I still refused to give him the satisfaction he sought.

"You must agree not to fight me, my dove. There will be pain if you do. It is your choice, but you must make it now. I am a man of caprice. Who knows if I may ever again be taken with such an indulgent whim."

"Do what you wish," I said.

"Kiss me," he commanded. "It will seal this bargain."

"I hate you. I loathe you," I spat. "I will never forgive you."

"But there is such a fine line between love and hate…agony and ecstasy…pleasure and pain. Kiss me," he repeated.

I complied with mutiny in my eyes and a desire for murder in my heart—until his mouth met mine again and resurrected a roaring maelstrom of mixed emotions. I had initiated the kiss, but he quickly commanded it. Savaging me with his lips, teeth, and tongue, he drew me dizzily and inexorably down into the dark oblivion of desire—to the mindless place where lust leads and sensation reigns over reason.

I was barely aware that he had shed my robe until his mouth broke from mine and he came behind to guide me to the bed. My body trembled with equal parts arousal and apprehension as he bent me at the waist to press me face down onto the mattress. With a sudden panic of suffocation, I turned my head to the side. I stole a breath, reminding myself that had Ahmed intended to hurt me, he would not have sacrificed the chance to whip me, but even this was little consolation. On every prior encounter with him, I had told myself that I was really in control, that I was as free as he to take my pleasure, but I could not deceive myself this time. The moment he came behind me, I was utterly at his mercy. Just like the first night when he had bound and blindfolded me, I was exposed, vulnerable, and helpless.

He wedged his thighs between mine, urging them apart and then his body came over me, hard and unyielding. His chest hair lightly abraded my back, and the length of his verge nestled between my buttocks. His hot breath brushed my ear. "Don't fight me, ma belle. It will be most unpleasant if you do."

Even as he spoke, my every instinct rebelled, urging me to react, to buck and thrash and break free. But then I suddenly recalled the young horse who had lain helplessly pinned to the ground with Ahmed's full weight on his neck. I remembered the wild-eyed panic that had ensued and the frantic thrashing that had left the animal exhausted, defeated, powerless, and panting. Contrary to what I had expected, Ahmed had not brutalized the horse. He had stroked and soothed continuously until the fight was gone. He would not hurt me, but if I fought him, the result would be the same. In the end I would surrender to his superior will and dominating power.