Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Heaven on earth, but how she wanted him.
Malik.
The mere thought of his name had her whimpering, and then she felt it—-
Wetness gushing out of her, drenching her panties in seconds—-
Dear heaven.
How could she be so wet just by thinking about him? It was so impossibly embarrassing, and Kyria could only be grateful that the sheikh was probably still busy with his all-important call with the king.
This was so terribly insane—-
And yet...
Her body trembled as Kyria’s hand started drifting down.
So, so insane—-
Her breath hitched as her hand went down past her navel. Her eyes closed, and Malik materialized in her mind, so exquisitely vivid that she could practically feel the heat of his hard muscles—-
Kyria’s fingers slipped under her shorts, and a moan escaped her.
A sister shouldn’t touch herself while thinking of her brother.
But Malik wasn’t her brother. And so her hand went inside her panties.
She didn’t care if people thought this was sick. And so her fingers found her flesh.
Because he was the man she loved.
Another moan broke out of Kyria as her fingers started stroking her own quivering folds. She had never done this before. Never. She had always thought of it, yearned for it. There had been nothing more that she was tempted to do, but she had always held back, not touching herself as a punishment—-
Another moan spilled out of her as her thumb accidentally brushed against her clit, and the tiny nub of flesh stiffened.
Malik.
His name in her mind was as sinfully sweet as liquor-laced chocolate, but it also still felt horrendously wrong to think of Malik while touching herself. Wrong, she couldn’t help thinking, but even so it felt good, so, so good, like a stolen, erotic glimpse of heaven.
Kyria knew she should stop now, before it got worse, before it got too much, but instead she stroked herself again. Over and over, her fingers stroking faster, and she didn’t think it was possible to stop...until she realized she was being watched.
FUCK. Malik’s entire body jerked when he saw where her fingers were.
Fuck. He watched her fingers begin to move, and his cock hardened like it was his own erection she was stroking to an arousal.
Her lips parted, releasing the sexiest little moan, and lust gripped his entire body.
He should turn away, forget what he saw, do nothing.
But instead the sheikh moved inside, his gaze never leaving her fingers.
Kyria. His beautiful Kyria was touching herself, and it was the hottest fucking thing he had ever seen.
Her lips parted again—-
Malik.
She was moaning his name as she touched herself, and all rational thought left him at that point.
He was going to fuck her.
A shaken gasp suddenly broke the silence in the room, her fingers freezing, and when he jerked his gaze back to her face, he saw that she was staring at him in horror.
Embarrassment swamped Kyria at the sight of the sheikh’s taut form by the doorway, but just as she started to yank her fingers out of her shorts, the sheikh’s harsh voice slashed the silence in the room.
“Don’t you fucking stop.”
Kyria’s heart banged against her chest even as her fingers froze, just halfway out of her shorts.
“Did you hear me?”
Her teeth sunk into her lower lip at the shocking command, but even so—-
Her fingers slowly started to move again, and raw, sexual hunger flashed in his eyes.
Aaaaaaah.
She had no idea what was going to happen now, no idea what would happen after. All she knew was that she had to obey him.
He slowly began walking towards her, and with every step she began to pant.
By the time he reached her, she was breathless, and when he looked down at her, oh—-
She could so imagine what he was seeing: the girl who was his sister by all but name and blood, the girl he probably never imagined was this much of a slut, touching herself because she was so damn horny.
A whimper rolled out of her throat, and the sheikh’s large, powerful body stiffened.
A moment later, and he was suddenly bending down, his hands taking hold of her hips. One hard yank, and he had her horizontal on the bed; another yank, and he had her knees up.
“This,” he said roughly, “is how it should be.”
Oh!
“And these have to go...” Kyria could only gasp as he unzipped her shorts and yanked them out of the way. “They ruin my view.”
The unabashed wickedness of his words was more than she could handle, and she whimpered his name in a mixture of uncontrollable arousal and embarrassment. “Malik!” But instead of feeling chastised the sheikh only let out a laugh, the sound arrogant and taunting, telling her that he knew her resistance was a sham.
Her fingers curled uselessly against the silken sheets as his shadow fell over her, the sheikh bending close to reach for her underwear. He pulled it down, but unlike with her shorts, his movements were much slower this time, excruciatingly so.