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)
And that was when she felt it.
Malik starting to move behind her, and her lips parted in a soundless moan as he started rubbing his cock against her. His hands squeezed the cheeks of her ass, and she almost let out a sob. One arm went around her body, and her throat locked.
Oh God.
His hand slid down her body.
Stop him, for the love of all things holy, stop him!
But she could not make herself move, and so his hand continued on its path, its caressing fingers unimpeded. Lower and lower it went, and harder and harder it became for Kyria to breathe—-
And finally, his fingers stopped—-
On that place she realized she had both feared and hoped he would touch—-
Her flesh pulsed under his fingers, soft and swollen, and oh so wet. She was so horrifyingly, shockingly wet that suddenly everything felt too much, and a whimper tore past her lips. The sound shattered the silence, ripping through the dangerous web that sleep and unconscious desires had woven about their minds and bodies.
They sprang apart, Kyria rising up in clumsy haste while Malik’s powerful form tensed like someone had pointed a gun at him. She turned to look at the sheikh, and the sickened expression on his beautiful face made her feel faint and dizzy. She didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know how to feel about it—-
“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“O-of course,” she managed to say even as his apology made her shiver for some reason.
His jaw tightening, Malik asked curtly, “Did I frighten you?”
Kyria’s lips parted, but no words came out. What could she say when she still didn’t understand what had happened? Without meeting his gaze, she whispered, “I think I should go.” A part of her was dying to be alone, to have some time and space to make sense of things. But the other larger part of her...wanted something else. It wanted to hear Malik say he wanted her to stay, to tell her...
“I think you should.”
Kyria rushed out of his tent without another word, her head lowered to keep him from seeing her tears. Even now, she still didn’t know what she wanted him to say, but she also knew it no longer mattered.
Malik’s words had made it very clear what he wanted, and because she only lived to do what he wanted, then that was how it should be.
Part III
As good as Malik and Kyria got along together, it was not uncommon for the two to have their misunderstandings, and neither ever cared to make any secret of it. More often than not, Kyria’s complaints often revolved around Malik being too strict. Why was she forbidden from visiting this place? Why was she prohibited from doing that? Why, why, why? And as much as she strove to be dutiful and meek, where Malik was concerned her hard-earned composure would sometimes desert her. In her younger years, this had translated to tantrums and locking herself in her room and refusing to eat while Malik was around. Eventually, Kyria outgrew her passive-aggressive tendencies, but this in return was replaced by yelling matches that could be heard throughout the hallways of the palace. Thankfully, these generally lasted for but a short while, to the point that the staff had learned to simply shrug it off and stop panicking every time they heard raised voices coming from Malik’s study.
As for the young sheikh himself, most of his grumblings had to do with Kyria’s quiet but unshakable bid for independence. Why don’t you ask for my help, you fool? Why must you insist on these unnecessary chores, you idiot? Anyone unfamiliar with palace life would have been stunned speechless were they to hear the way Malik raged at his mother’s ward. Of the five Al-Atassi sheikhs, Malik was considered to be the gentlest and most chivalrous, the one with the most reasonable temper. And yet every time Kyria got into trouble, it was as if a beast would come to take possession of the sheikh, and there would be no calming him until Kyria was made to promise never to take this or that risk again.
And so it went, with the palace becoming accustomed to seeing Malik and Kyria have at it like they were at each other’s throats, only to make up in the same day and once again become inseparable as twins. Their fights were crazy but amusing, and the palace was used to it. What neither the royal family nor staff was used to, however, was the two being so obviously at odds with each other – with none of them saying a word about it.
Everyone kept waiting for one or the other to snap – for either Malik to start shouting or Kyria to start crying – but nothing happened. Instead, the two were entirely civil, exchanging nods upon passing each other in the hallway and when either was asked about what happened, Malik would only shrug and Kyria would only smile, neither of them inclined to say a word.