Monday Minute Fiction – A Night With the Sheik

Welcome to Monday Minute Fiction. Join me every Monday for a bit of quick fiction. Then check out the bottom of my post for other authors doing Monday Minute Fiction too!

A Night With The Sheik
(this work belongs to Brynn Paulin and cannot be duplicated without permission)

There really had to be some sort of mistake… I’d been purchasing coffee in the market, and now I was imprisoned in what could only be described as a harem. I hadn’t seen any concubines, but the décor of the place, combined with the diaphanous clothing I now wore, gave little doubt. I was so screwed.

Tiny bells around my ankle tinkled as I paced the large chamber where I’d been left after a host of non-English speaking “beauty experts” had poked and prodded me into “harem material”. I’d been bathed with perfumed soap, depilated, painted, made-up and styled in Middle Eastern runway fashion—all the while putting up a fight. I hadn’t argued the clothes. They hid little but it was better than being naked—I think.

This room… It was a bedroom. There was no doubt about that. A large bed, covered in silks and pillows stood on a dais and dominated the space. The wall behind it was covered in a jewel-tone mosaic. If I wasn’t gob smacked by being here, I might have thought it beautiful. Instead, I tried to stay away from it as much as possible.

“Good evening,” I heard behind me in deeply accented English.

“Ohmigod! You speak English,” I exclaimed, spinning toward the voice. “There’s been a mistake.”

My eyes went wide as I saw him—dark hair, dark eyes, a wide bare chest, flowing black pants with a wide sash-like waist that emphasized his flat, powerful belly. My mouth went dry as I tried to swallow and all my moisture went straight to my pussy. Yes, I had been kidnapped and wasn’t too keen about it, but my body completely betrayed me—and this wasn’t the first time I’d seen him.

“No mistake,” he murmured, his dark eyes studying me as they had last night when I’d eaten my solitary dinner at the restaurant. He’d intrigued me then and later filled my dreams with longing and passion. This morning I’d seen him again and had had a similar reaction to right now.

“I just wanted to get coffee…” I murmured.

He grinned a satyr smile. “You just wanted me.”

Well yeah, but not like this.

“I am Sheik Kasim bin Hamad Al-Rashid. You may call me Kasim. These are my quarters.”

“I want to leave…”

He stared at her, his face enigmatic. “Do you? Is that why your chest flutters like the hummingbird’s wings. Your nipples adorn your breasts like hard diamonds. Your belly ripples with the need flooding your womb. Your voice softened the moment your saw me and your eyes widened then grew dark.” He shook his head. “You do not want to leave.”

“I should.”

“Should is for cowards.” He held out his hand. “Come, let me show you the pleasures of my bed. Promise one night and I will give you a lifetime worth of memories.”

He held himself in high estimation, I decided. “Only one night? I can leave after that?”

“You have my word. Tomorrow, you may leave if you choose.” He beckoned again. “Come.”

And I did. I crossed the room to him, and he dragged me into his arms, kissing me ravenously. His fingers drove into my hair pulling it loose from the clips that had held it. A moment later, he’d opened the bra-like top they’d dressed me in and freed my breasts. I gasped, fire blazing through me as he pulled from the kiss and immediately sucked a nipple into his mouth.

In minutes, we were on the bed, his hips between my thighs, our clothed pelvises grinding together. His lips never left my breast as he lashed it with his tongue and sent lava pouring through me.

“I’m not a whore,” I managed. “And I don’t sleep around. I’ve never—”

He lifted his head and pressed his fingers to my lips. “I know.” His eyes were almost tender. “It is a part of why I want you.”

“Part?” I gasped out as his hand traversed my belly to slip beneath the my skirt to my bare cunt.

“You are succulent.”

Okay…

“A ripe fruit awaiting my consumption.”

I went off as he touched my clit, my head tilting back into the pillows, my cry echoing on the tiles around us. It was the last release I was to have for awhile. For hours he touched and stroked me, bringing me to the brink of climax then drawing away before I toppled over the edge. He had me begging, needing him, but he never gave me his cock—not until the thready wisps of dawn began to creep into the room and I was so on edge I would have promised to stay with him for years if only he’d fuck me.

As the morning call filled the air, Kasim thrust into my body, filling the space that begged for him. He hunched over my body, uttering words in his language I didn’t understand, words that included Allah and probably would have been considered heresy by his people. A prayer of thanksgiving, much like mine perhaps?

My sensitized passage felt every ridge of his wide cock as it clasped the shaft that pummeled into it. The release that had knotted in my middle all night, grew tighter and tighter. My cream flooded us both and my cries of his name echoed on the walls.

“Now,” he rasped, “now!” He drove hard into me one last time, his fingers pinching my clit and sending me screaming into the chasm of oblivion. With his head thrown back, he followed me, soaring after me like the dark, wild demon he was. A sex demon who would catch me and capture me.

Together we landed on the silk sheets, the blankets long ago thrown to the floor.

“I knew you would share my passion,” he murmured. “I knew the same fire burned inside you.”

We lay in silence after that until the dawn fully filled the room and there was no hiding from the day.

“It’s morning,” I whispered when I could speak again.

“Stay with me?” he asked. “Knowing you can go at any time, stay and learn of me. Enjoy my bed and all I have to offer outside it.”

“You mean you’re not just a powerful sheik who kidnaps women from the market?” I teased. I drew a line down the middle of his muscular chest. If I stayed, I would get to touch it often.

“Only you. There has never been another.”

“Until you tire of me?” I asked.

“Until you tire of me,” he replied.

That could be a very long time.

Thanks for reading! I hope you return next week. Leave me a comment!!! Also participating in Monday Minute Fiction:

Ashley Ladd and her story: Holding Up the Contract. Check it out!!!!

If you’re an author who’d like to participate in Monday Minute Fiction, please contact me and I’ll hook you up for next week and on.

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