Page 41 of Her Arabian King

Fisting her hair, the sheikh pushed his penis all the way in, trying to reach the deepest core of her, and Harper moaned. His thick, throbbing phallus was ripping her pussy apart, and oh, how she loved it.

“Can you take more?” the sheikh growled.

“Yes.” The word came out a sob, Harper already trembling in fearful, excited anticipation of how rougher it could get. A moment later, the sheikh pulled her head back, his mouth capturing hers just as he buried his penis deeper into her. Its swollen head knocked against her womb, and Harper sobbed even as she sucked hungrily on his tongue, utterly lost in the savageness of his lovemaking.

Releasing her mouth, the sheikh bit her shoulder hard, and she cried out.

“Fuck.”

And then the sheikh’s muscular hips were wildly bumping against her, his hands gripping her hair like she was a mare he had pounced on to impregnate, and oh, the image alone made her cry out again.

Over and over, he shoved his penis into her, riding her, destroying her pussy——

“Khaaaaaalil!”

His name came out in a broken sob as a violent orgasm swept her away, and after a few seconds, the sheikh growled as he reached his own release, his free hand going around to grope her breast as he shot his load into her wet, throbbing pussy.

Her orgasm lasted forever, and so did his, the sheikh’s penis twitching as it continued to spurt out his cum. There was so much of it his cum began to leak out, trailing down her legs, and she let out a soft whimper at the realization.

So much cum, Harper thought dazedly.

She felt the sheikh pull out of her, his penis withdrawing with a loud pop, and her cheeks flushed at the sound. A moment later, and he was turning her around –

Harper gaped.

That was not possible.

That just could not be possible.

“How is it you’re still hard?” she half-wailed, half-gasped.

The sheikh smirked. “Are you complaining?”

“YES!”

The sheikh laughed. “Too bad.” His hands clasped her ankles. “Because I plan to keep my word.”

“W-what are—-aah!”

The sheikh had suddenly yanked her forward by the ankles, and then he was pulling her legs up in the air and pushing them open.

“Sheeeikh—-”

He entered her again, possessing her pussy anew, and Harper’s eyes rolled back.

The sheikh said thickly, “It’s going to be a rough night.”

Oh. My. God.

And so it started once again, the sheikh true to his promise, so much so that by the next day every part of Harper’s body was aching, including the parts that weren’t even supposed to ache. She could barely take a step without wincing, a fact that had the sheikh looking at her with such arrogant satisfaction, she was torn between thumping and kissing him. Why, oh, why did she think it was a good idea to be this man’s wife again?

An official welcoming committee from the royal family of Contini awaited them when they touched down in the country’s airport, and soon they were whisked into the snowy mountains of St. Valentine and ensconced in Queen Wilhemina’s very own chateau, which was easily the most luxurious in the region.

A full itinerary had been prepared for the couple, but in the end, the sheikh and Harper spent the majority of their weeklong vacation locked inside their bedroom, emerging only to grab a quick bite before once again retiring.

To say that the sheikh was insatiable was a vast understatement, and even the word ‘beast’ no longer seemed sufficient. Experience and instinct had made the sheikh masterly skillful in the art of using dominance in the bedroom, with the sheikh knowing exactly how far he could push Harper past her limits without being in danger of abusing her. He knew when to command her and when to worship her, knew when she wanted to be his slut and when she wanted to be his queen.

It was terrifying really, the way the sheikh seemed to know her even better than Harper knew herself. If she could have foreseen this back then, it might have been enough for Harper to run away and never say ‘yes’ to his proposal.

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