| |
“Thank you so much,” I told the courier as he handed my package. I waited until he was gone and left alone with my lady’s maid before I hurriedly unwrapped it.
“You’re opening it here, milady?” Jane asked in surprise.
“Yes.” I understood her concern. We were at the palace’s servants’ entrance, and it was definitely not a place I should be seen at. “Please keep this a secret. I don’t want anyone to know about it before I see it for myself.” I finally managed to tear off the last piece of wrapping paper from the box.
Jane gasped when I opened the box and revealed its content.
“Oh, milady, that’s so beautiful!”
I didn’t let up my breath, asking nervously, “You mean it?” As part of the royal family, I was required to buy only locally designed gowns. Unfortunately, the rumors had made all fashion designers in the kingdom unwilling to work for me.
This dress was my only chance, created by the dressmaker from our old hometown. I was only allowed to wear any old dress from my closet, and our hometown’s dressmaker was the only person I trusted not to reveal the truth about my gown.
The maid touched the gown with seeming reverence. “I’m not lying, milady. I’ve worked in dozens of royal balls and this one is more beautiful than most gowns they wear.” She snorted, adding primly, “Or shall I say what little they’re wearing, since most of their gowns are too provocative.”
I laughed at Jane’s affronted tone, knowing it was more the maid’s upbringing talking now than her actual taste in fashion.
Holding the gown up, I studied it one more time, trying my best to be objective as I imagined myself wearing it. The gown was feminine and modest, with a round neckline, long sleeves made of silver lace, and a full skirt made of ice pink silk. The fabric should make my complexion look rosier while the silver lace matched the shade of my eyes.
All I need now were shoes, I thought, and I’d be ready—-
“Oh, how becoming that dress is,” someone exclaimed from behind.
Whirling around, I was shocked at finding myself facing Lady Dezza. What was she doing here?
My stepsister walked up to me, her smile full of admiration as she gushed, “Is that what you’re wearing to the ball?”
Unsure whether to take her friendliness at face value or not, I nodded cautiously.
“Do I know its designer?” Lady Dezza inquired as she circled around me.
“No, I—-”
As I spoke, Lady Dezza tripped, her foot catching at the hem of my dress.
“Aaaah!” My stepsister cried out as she started to fall.
I paled, immediately reaching out to help her, but Lady Dezza seemed to dodge my hold. She took a step back and managed to right herself in time, but not before the heel of her shoe dug into the fabric and tore out a large piece of the skirt.
Lady Dezza straightened.
The maid gasped, and when I followed her gaze, I could only stare in silent dismay when I saw what was left of my dress.
“Oh my God,” my stepsister gasped. “I’m so sorry.” But even to my ears, she sounded more gleeful than repentant. “What are you going to do now?” She sounded tearful, but the malice in her eyes belied this. "Would you be able to find another dress in time, do you think?"
I shook my head dully. I had more dresses in my closet now, true, but none of them were suitable for a ball.
“Oh, dear. That’s too bad. I’d have lent you something but we are not the same sizes. I’m afraid you’re too short, too fat.” Lady Dezza released a sigh. “I guess that only means one thing.”
When she fell silent, I slowly lifted my head to look at her.
“You’re not going to the ball.”
****
IT WAS MIDNIGHT WHEN Ella, alone in her bedroom, heard something crick. Bent over her sewing, she looked up, her neck protesting at the sudden movement. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw the wall next to her bed start to swing open.
What the—-
About to scream, she instead found herself falling silent in shock when the wall fully swung open to reveal the sheikh standing behind it. He was as beautiful as always, but his hair was badly mussed, and he looked like he had come straight to her room upon arriving.
“Ella.” The mere act of saying her name brought relief to the sheikh, who was still breathing hard as he gazed intensely at her. She had her honey blond hair unbound, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, and her curves hidden under a worn-looking cotton gown.
It should've made her look plain, but in truth he couldn't remember seeing her more beautiful...and tired.
Damn Dezza and her greed.
The sheikh had more eyes than the king did in the palace, and he had been close to strangling his half-sister when he saw the CCTV footage of how Dezza had deliberately destroyed Ella’s dress for the ball.
The moment he heard about what happened, the sheikh had not hesitated, practically running all the way to Ella's room. All he could think of was giving her comfort, thinking she would be in tears, but while she did appear exhausted, she also had a now-familiar look of fierce determination on her face, needle in hand and her ball gown on her lap.
He should've known better than to think his Ella would give up just like that.
Shame burned in Ella’s cheeks when she realized what the sheikh was staring at. “What are you doing here?” Her tone was furious, but it was only to hide the humiliation churning her insides.
Although the sheikh meant to appease her anger with a few well-chosen words, all such thoughts were forgotten when he saw the plasters wrapped around her fingers.
“What is the meaning of this?” When he saw Ella flinch, he knew that she had mistaken his fury for condescension or even pity. He knew he should soften his tone, but he was unable to, his anger knowing no bounds at the realization of the lengths she had gone to repair her dress.
Ella furiously blinked back tears at the sheikh's tone. “It’s none of your business!”
“It is my business when you’re clearly acting like an idiot,” he snapped, and his anger was unabated even when she suddenly burst into tears. "You are not to repair that dress—-"
"I'll do whatever I damn want," Ella managed to snarl despite her tears.
“Will you look at your fucking hands?”
“I don’t care!” Snapping her gaze away from the sheikh, she nearly jabbed herself as she forcefully pushed the needle into the fabric. “I’m going to the ball, and you’re not going to stop—-”
“I said, stop it!” This time, the sheikh's words came out in a savage hiss.
It had Ella jerking, and her hold on the needle slipped, its sharp tip pricking her finger.
A cry escaped Ella, and she paled when she saw a drop of blood falling to her dress. Over her head, she heard the sheikh curse and knew he had seen the same thing.
“I’m sorry.” Self-loathing made the sheikh's voice harsh.
In the corner of her eye, she saw the sheikh step towards her and she shook her head. “Don’t.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I don’t want you near me.”
The sheikh whitened. She had never talked to him like this before, and he found himself suddenly assailed by a mixture of doubt and terror. What if he had pushed her too far? What if she had truly given up on him? Would he be able to let her go? Could he be selfless enough to step aside and let a better man than him take his woman away?
“Ella.”
The sheikh's voice was as abrupt as ever, but there was something in it – a strange note that made her body tremble and apprehension skitter down her spine.
But before she could try to understand where her fears were coming from, the sheikh was speaking again, and this time what he had to say had Ella catching her breath.
“Be honest with me, ukhayyah. Do you truly mean to marry Mik'hail? Do you believe you will be happier with him? You only have to say ‘yes’ and I shall...” The sheikh drew a breath sharply. “I will never bother you again.”
Oh.
She had imagined the sheikh saying so many things, mostly arrogant and taunting words, but she had never imagined he would say that.
Her head lowered.
The right answer should be ‘yes’. Khal was too cruel, and he had hurt her too many times. But...it was not the answer inside her heart. She only had to close her eyes and she could so easily remember the many times the sheikh had been tender with her, his possessiveness making her feel cherished and loved rather than imprisoned and abused.
As the silence between the sheikh and Ella grew, Khal slowly found himself losing hope. Despair and emptiness gnawed at him, and he told himself stoically that if Ella did end up choosing the other man, he would not stand in her way.
He saw her shoulders start shaking, and it was as if he already had his answer. She probably just couldn’t say it because she was too nice, he thought harshly.
Slowly, the sheikh started to turn away.
Behind him, he heard her say, “Yes.”
The sheikh closed his eyes in defeat.
Tears running down her cheeks, Ella said tremulously, “I know that’s what I should answer. You’re the king's heir, and you’re everything I shouldn’t yearn for.” She looked up, gray eyes meeting blue. “I should say yes, if only because you’ve hurt me so many times, but...” Her voice broke. “My heart says no.”
For a moment, the sheikh was frozen with disbelief.
But when he heard Ella swallow back another sob, the sound mobilized him, and with a groan, the sheikh sank on one knee in front of her. “I don’t deserve you, ukhayyah.”
Releasing a teary laugh, she said, “I know.” Her defenses completely crumbled at the emotions swirling in the sheikh's blue eyes, and fresh tears struck her eyes as she felt his hands cup her face.
“Let me comfort you. Please.”
It was almost as if the sheikh was begging, and that someone as proud as him could do so...
She closed her eyes.
There was no other thing to say, but...
“Yes.”
There was no time to even breathe after that. The sheikh rose up, and in one swift motion had covered her mouth with a kiss even as his body pressed down against hers.
Her arms curled around the sheikh's neck even as she fell back to the bed. Her tears added a salty taste to their kiss, prompting the sheikh to lift his head and lick her tears away. “No more tears, milady.”
But the sheikh's whisper was so tender it only made her cry even more.
Shaking his head, the sheikh brushed the tears away and pressed one kiss on each eyelid, making her close her eyes.
The sheikh whispered to her ear, “This shall be the last night we’ll be parted.” His breath in her ear made her shiver, but it was his next words that made her body buckle, the sheikh's voice a low husky murmur as he commanded, “Now, I would like to keep my promise. Lie on your stomach and let me comfort you.”
The sheikh clasped her by the waist and undressed her swiftly before discarding his own clothes, the rustling sound making her heady with sensual excitement.
A moment later, and the sheikh had returned to her, the heat of his naked body making her tremble. She held her breath as he lifted her hair off her neck, and the air swooshed out of her when she felt him kiss her nape.
Another moment and he was kissing his way down her body, making her spine tingle at the wet, warm touch of his tongue. A whimper escaped her as she felt his lips trace the curve of her bottom.
Behind Ella, the sheikh smiled at her reaction, and he rewarded her by squeezing the plump cheeks of her pert butt. She buckled again, and his smile widened at her responsiveness.
“Exquisite,” he whispered as his hands continued down, caressing her shapely legs. “Exquisitely soft, exquisitely curvaceous...my little Ella is exquisite, and I want to fuck her.”
She started to moan, but he had already anticipated this, and his hand readily covered her mouth, silencing her. “Don’t make a sound, ukhayyah.” He reached for a pillow and handed it to her. “Bite it, scream into it – I don’t care what you do, just be quiet.” His voice was thick with desire. “After the ball, you can scream all you want but not now.”
Her mind whirled at his words, but again there was no time to think much about it, not with the sheikh kissing his way down her legs. It was as if he was worshipping her, and the thought was enough to make her shiver anew.
He was holding her ankles now and kissing the soles of her feet.
She grabbed the pillow and bit into it.
“I think it’s time to turn you around, ukhayyah.” Again, he clasped her by the waist and turned her to her back. She held her breath again, expecting another sensual attack, but instead the sheikh reached for her hands.
He kissed her fingers one by one, and the tenderness made her eyes sting. It almost felt as if he was apologizing for the pain she had endured, and the tears threatened to fall. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered.
“Of course it is,” the sheikh said flatly.
She watched him press her hand against his cheek, her heart thundering at the gesture.
“Tomorrow will be a difficult day, milady,” the sheikh said quietly. “Many will try to keep you from coming to the ball."
“Including you?”
“Not anymore,” the sheikh answered cryptically. “But that’s no longer the point. I will not be able to help you at all times, but...” His gaze became fiercely demanding. “You must not give up.”
Oh.
She said shakily, “It’s like you’re telling me not to give up on you, Your Highness.” She waited desperately for the sheikh to agree, but instead, his lips only curved in a smile that was as enigmatic as his next words.
“Only if it is what you truly want.” And then he was reaching for her breasts.
Scrambling for her pillow, she brought it back to her mouth and screamed into it.
His gaze still holding hers captive, the sheikh started massaging her breasts, his touch a mixture of reverence and hunger. “Would you like me to suck on your breasts?”
She could only moan at the question, but it seemed enough for the sheikh. He bent down, and his mouth replaced the hand on her breast while his other hand continued caressing its rosy-tipped twin.
Her dazed eyes rested on the sheikh's dark head as he suckled on her breast, sucking so hard it was almost as if he was only waiting to draw milk from the aching and swollen globe.
“Khal.” The sheikh's name slipped out of her lips, and a powerful shudder rocked his body just before he sucked even harder on her nipple.
The pressure was exquisite, and it had her eyes squeezing shut as another cry tore out of her throat. The sheikh moved to her other breast, sucking on her other nipple just as hard, and Ella pressed the pillow back to her mouth as she cried out loudly, “KHAL.”
The sheikh shuddered. “Temptress,” he accused, lifting his head to look at her, barely leashed desire in his eyes.
She gasped as he suddenly pulled held her up by the hips. Her lower body was now completely up in the air, her legs dangling down his arms, her pussy on his face.
Her heart hammered against her chest at the strange position. “Your Highness—-” Her words turned into a silent scream as the sheikh's mouth landed at the center of her core.
AAAAAAAAAAH.
The sheikh started eating her pussy, and there was nothing she could do but lie helpless against his devouring mouth. The position of her body made her unable to hold on to anything. All she could do was toss her head left and right while she felt herself being so beautifully eaten.
His tongue was relentless, thrusting in and out of her wetness like an agile little cock. She started to sob as the pleasure built inside her. Oh God, this was going to be so—-
The sheikh's mouth suddenly moved up, his teeth closing on her throbbing clitoris.
She came with another silent scream.
Oh God, Khal was so good at eating her!
The words pounded in her mind as she came, over and over, the dirty thought more than enough to prolong her orgasm for another tortuous minute. Her body shook, her eyes rolled back, her lips parted, but still the sheikh continued eating the sensitive nub of flesh.
A sigh of tired relief escaped her when the sheikh finally eased his mouth off her, and she felt herself being lowered back to the bed.
But it wasn’t over.
Her eyes flew open when she felt the sheikh nudging her legs to a wide V, and her eyes widened even more when she saw him positioning his fully engorged cock behind her entrance. “No.” The word came out an incredulous whisper. “Your Highness, you can’t—-”
She was unable to finish, the sheikh already sliding his cock into her, and her words turned into a moan.
Over her, the sheikh said pleasantly, “I’m not finished comforting you, milady.” And then he began pumping his cock hard and fast into her, so damn deep the head of his cock started brushing against her womb, making her fumble for the pillow so she could scream into it. She screamed with each thrust. She couldn’t stop screaming, every thrust rocking her world and sending her spinning into new heights of ecstasy.
But even as she had her second orgasm, it was still not over, the sheikh's idea of giving comfort lasting the entire night and well into the morning.
The sheikh had her on her fours, fucking her from behind. The sheikh had her on top, making her ride him and drawing so much comfort from it she had turned into a limp doll after. But even then, it was still not over. Even with her completely wilted, the sheikh managed to bring her body alive with his expert touch.
“Are you ready, ukhayyah?” the sheikh rasped from behind. He was seated on the bed, leaning against the headboard while she was on his lap, a wet, wanton mess who could only follow his every command.
She could barely shake her head. “Please, Your Highness.” She couldn’t remember ever feeling this tired.
But her words only made the sheikh laugh. “One last time, milady.” His fingers dipped between her legs. She tried to keep her thighs together, but the sheikh was too strong, and soon he was lining her folds, his fingers expertly rousing her extra-sensitive pussy. In moments, he had her trembling, desire winning over exhaustion.
Her head fell back as she felt him lift her up.
Another moment, and he was impaling her with his cock.
Aaaaaaaah.
She moaned at the sheikh's penetration, which was deeper than usual, and she kept moaning with every instance he impaled her with his giant cock. It was surreal, the way the sheikh could keep it erect the entire night, but she knew she couldn’t really complain.
He fucked her hard and long, and by the time it was over, she could no longer keep her eyes open, not even when her body jerked with their simultaneous orgasms, his seed pumping into her, mixing with her own come.
The sheikh gathered Ella protectively into his arms, and when he lifted her off the bed, she curled against his chest like a little kitten. He brought her to the Jacuzzi, which was already bubbling with soothingly hot water. She barely stirred as he stepped into the whirlpool bath with her, and the sheikh said softly, “Wake up, milady.”
He reached for the soap and began soaping her body from behind. She let out a sensual sound of pleasure, but her eyes remained closed, and his lips curved at the dreamy look on her face.
It was not a bad thing at all, the sheikh thought, to see his beautiful girl so wiped out at the pleasure he had given her.
Ella’s eyes fluttered open when she felt herself being placed on her feet. They were back in the bedroom, she realized, and the sheikh was toweling her dry. Outside her window, the sun was already shining brightly, and Ella realized drowsily that the day of the ball had finally come.
By the time the sheikh swept her back up in his arms, she was already nodding on her feet, and she could no longer keep her eyes open when the sheikh tucked her in.
When she felt the sheikh press his lips to her hair, it almost felt like a dream, and so did his last words.
“Come to the ball, ukhayyah.” The sheikh voice was quiet and tender, fierce and possessive, all at the same time. “I will be waiting to make you my bride.”