Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Perfect, she couldn’t help thinking. He was so, so perfect in every way that a man could be, and the thought twisted her heart so because she knew she was still worlds away from being his equal. Whenever she spent time with his people, stories of hero worship were inevitable, and at first she had been skeptical, wondering if the people were only saying such things of the sheikh because they wanted to get on her good side. But as the stories only piled up, and they were always consistent in how they portrayed the Emir Sheikh, Harper had taken it upon herself to verify the truth on her own.
And what she discovered only made her love him more.
Here was a man who had used his personal fortune for the rehabilitation of injured Ramilian soldiers and offered monetary aid to grieving widows and orphaned children. And when he had learned of his grandfather refusing to offer basic healthcare to his people purely out of avarice, Khalil had once again dug into his own pockets to set up non-profit hospitals that offered free medical care. And all of this, he did despite King Hasim publicly branding him a bastard who’d never inherit the throne.
On the day Harper had married the sheikh, she had foolishly thought she was only marrying a man who happened to wear a crown. Now, she knew how wrong she was. She had married a man whose entire life had been selflessly devoted to Ramil – a man whom everyone believed would one day go down as one of history’s greatest kings.
Even now, it remained a daunting thought, a grave reminder of the monumental task that lay ahead of her, and as she continued to study the sheikh’s sleeping profile in silence, Harper gnawed on her lip worriedly. Could she ever measure up to him?
Yes. No. Of course. Never.
It was rare for her to be indecisive, and it frustrated Harper so. Releasing a sigh of frustration, she turned away and was about to stand up when fingers suddenly locked around her wrist, hauling her back—-
Harper tumbled back into the bed, falling against the sheikh’s powerful chest with a gasp. “You’re awake!”
“You were staring at me too hard.”
Her face reddened. “I was not!”
But the sheikh only smiled, his gaze all-too-knowing making her squirm. She tried tugging her hand out of his hold, mumbling, “I should go.”
“At three in the morning?”
“I feel guilty enough that I went to bed when most of the staff insisted on working overnight.”
“Don’t be. We all have our own duties, qalifa.” He reached up suddenly, and she started in surprise when he ran his fingers slowly over her forehead. “This party appears to be stressing you unnecessarily.”
“It’s not—-”
The sheikh’s fingers trailed down her neck, reaching the neckline of her silk nightgown. “You should relax.”
“I don’t have the time—-” Her voice died as the sheikh pulled the fabric down until her breasts popped free.
He cupped one breast, and she automatically leaned closer, closer and closer until the pink, pouting tip brushed against his lips. His mouth opened, his tongue flicking against her nipple, and Harper whimpered, her toes curling hard at the throbbing sensation.
“Still no time to relax?” the sheikh purred.
“Actually,” she managed to say, “I think I have lots of time.”
The sheikh smirked. “I thought you’d say that.” And then he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her down, and his mouth covered hers. She moaned at his kiss, and when he flipped them around the next moment, she moaned again as his heavy weight pressed down on hers and his huge and already hard phallus pulsated powerfully against her folds.
Harper writhed restlessly as he squeezed her breasts, pinched and bit her nipples before moving down, sucking hard on her clit. Her legs went around his neck, her fingers driving through his dark hair, and just when she was about to come his mouth lifted—-
“Khalil!”
He laughed at her frustrated tone, but he still pulled away and started everything all over again as he rose on his knees, pulled her legs up to his waist, and impaled his wife with one stroke. Harper screamed, his penis reaching all the way deep inside of her, and then she was gasping and panting, his hips moving forcefully as he impaled her over and over, his balls slapping against her aching, swelling pussy.
“Oh God, oh God, please.”
“Do you want me to fuck you harder?” the sheikh gritted out.
Harper moaned. “Y-yes.”
“Then say it. Say you want me to fuck you hard.” His fingers dug deep into the plump cheeks of her ass. “Say it.”
A sob tore out of her throat, and she choked, “Please fuck me hard.”
And he did.
He fucked her hard, so damn hard she could have sworn the room had started to spin, so damn hard it was like his phallus was tearing her pussy apart, and oh God, she loved it. She loved, loved the way it hurt, and when he started to grind his penis harder into her, his hips alternatively circling to make his phallus bump against the walls of her pussy—-