Page 29 of Her Arabian King

Her gaze roamed the room wildly, and reality crashed on her. She was in the sheikh’s private plane, she had fallen asleep in the suite Melina directed her to, and now she was sharing a bed with the sheikh.

Harper immediately tried to get up, but the arms around her tightened.

Shit.

A moment later, she was flat on her back, the sheikh looming over her as the covers fell from his body, revealing his naked chest.

SHIT.

“You’re awake.” His voice was scratchy from sleep.

“Sorry for waking you up,” she muttered while keeping her gaze firmly trained on his neck. Any other part of his body was definitely off-limits. “If you let me go, I can just move to another—-”

“This is where you belong, anisdi.”

“Umm, nope.” But the words came out a squeak as the sheikh suddenly moved, and this time he was now firmly between her legs, his phallus nestled against the folds of her pussy.

Her very wet pussy, which she had a nasty feeling he was much aware of because—-

“Why are you naked?”

The sheikh winced at the shrill tone. “I always sleep like this—-”

“But I’m here!”

She was still shrieking, but now that he was fully awake, it didn’t bother him as much now, and the sheikh’s gaze gleamed with amusement as he studied her flushed face. “All the more reason to be naked, anisdi.”

“This isn’t funny.” She was in bed with the sheikh, and he was naked. Her mind reeled, her teeth gnashed, but oh, how it made her pussy so much wetter. “Just let me go.” She pounded his chest and tried to shove him off but the sheikh was unmovable, and his powerful shoulders only rocked with silent laughter.

“I wanted to wake you up,” the sheikh murmured, “but I figured you needed more rest.”

Harper didn’t answer, concentrating only on trying to get him off her as she thrashed and struggled under his heavy body. She had to get away before he figured out how aroused she was.

“Harper...” The sheikh’s voice was strained. “What you’re doing isn’t helping.”

She didn’t pay attention, only working harder to push him away.

“All this wriggling is simply making me want you more.” And this time the sheikh grabbed one of her hands and shoved it down to where his penis was. Her fingers automatically curled around it, and the sheikh sucked in his breath as her grip tightened.

“Harper.” Her name slipped past the sheikh’s lips in a hoarse groan of desire.

Harper was aghast. And aroused. She hadn’t meant to hold him. But when she felt his erection, her fingers had just moved on its own.

And now, for the life of her, she couldn’t make her fingers let go.

Instead, her fingers started to move.

The sheikh stiffened.

Up, down, up, down.

Oh God, why wouldn’t her fingers stop moving?

“Akhtar.” More.

And she found herself obeying his command, her fingers tightening even as they moved faster, stroking his powerfully twitching phallus up and down, and all the while loving the silky, steely heat of it.

Before she knew it, she was already lifting her hips, her pussy aching, her body writhing restlessly.

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