The Sheikh's Captive Mistress (8 page)

She blushed before him and averted her eyes. “I know I look stupid. I just…Basheera taught me the Dance of the Seven Veils, and I thought that I could show you that I’m trying.”

“Trying what?” he asked, and how could she not hear how deep and throaty his voice had become. Hell, how had she not noticed the bulge in his pants by now?

“To understand more, to show you I care about your culture,” she frowned and curled up her lips deliciously. “I still don’t understand the abduction part, but I know that the other women in the harem surely have done this dance before.”

“Basheera perhaps overstepped. Yes, she and many of the women of the harem did that for my father, but I have never asked for that. Frankly,
habbibi
, I doubt any woman could make this look as phenomenal as you do.”

She blushed again and, coaxed by his words, stepped out into the main part of their shared quarters. Her smile turned from shy to coquettish, something charming and deliberate in the way her tongue played with her lips. Setting down her I-Pod, another gift from Munir, Emma pressed a few buttons and soon the music, a riff on the main number from the long ago film
Salome
began to play, the flutes and castanets ringing loudly through their suite.

Munir slid onto the sofa and watched as she started. The first part of the dance was all about the tease. The largest veil fell like a sheer blanket over her. So for a time, she danced back and forth, light on the balls of her feet and swaying in time with the music. Then she dropped that first veil, a flash of lavender landing on the carpet at her feet. Underneath, she had a beautiful headband, encircling her head almost like a crown, and from there beautiful diamonds glittered. Her sixth veil was a bright gold and a bit thicker. It was made like a tunic or toga of old and she shimmied her hips and twirled around. As she turned her left shoulder to him, she wriggled a bit and let the garment fall off of her that way.

Five to go…

Now her coverings were more creative and teased Munir more than even he could imagine. There was a bandolier around her luscious breasts, one studded with rhinestones similar to her headband. The two veils over them were basically slung over each shoulder and flared and moved with her dance, dipping so low over her bandolier that Munir was impressed with how well she kept them on. Emma reached out to each of the long mauve veils over her chest and grabbed them like wings. She moved artfully, with a fluidity of grace that even her earlier riding success had never hinted at. As she danced, she spun, making the two mauve veils flare out like wings. She got up such speed that, for a moment, he thought that they were going to actually lift her up from the ground, like real wings. All the while, the music underneath increased its tempo, a percussive beat ringing out and matching time with his heart, thudding fiercely throughout the room.

Emma dropped those two veils, leaving her mid-section exposed except for the bejeweled bandolier. He licked his lips and adjusted himself at the sight – so much pale curved flesh of her stomach and tits bare for his enjoyment, so much hypnotic motion as her stomach undulated with the frenetic rhythm.

The third veil left was wrapped around her waist like a belt, a beautiful creamy yellow band of silk. She spun as she undid it and then wrapped it up for a moment around her shoulders, spinning again to become a blur of sunny color. She dropped that and left only the two long veils attached from the hip of her jewel-covered underwear. The final two veils were thinner and as she spun faster, becoming more of a whirling dervish than a woman, the veils moved out of place and flared around her waist like a mantle. Now his mouth watered and his dick grew impossibly hard at the view of her breasts, stomach, and thighs.

Emma dropped the final two veils and finished the dance, collapsing in a split, hands held high to the air.

He stood up instantly and, although it felt odd doing it with only the two of them there to watch, burst out clapping his approval for the number.

She was a gift, his goddess, and always full of surprises.

Emma panted heavily when she was done, her hair a tangled mess in her face, and her lips parted invitingly as she took in great gulps of air. “So you really liked it?”

“No, I clap out of politeness only,” he replied, smirking back at her. Leaning down, he helped scoop her up and to her feet. “
Habbibi
, I have never seen anyone in my father’s harem do it better, never seen something so erotic and wonderful in my entire life.”

The skin of her face was red as a fire truck, and she moved those gorgeous blue eyes of hers away from his gaze. “You don’t have to oversell it.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest. Reaching over, he stroked the bottom of her chin with two fingers. “Love,
Emma
, I would never lie to you about that. You’re the most amazing woman I know, always up for adventure, and I can’t imagine a more beautiful and enticing sight than these hips,” he continued, letting his fingers stray over the flesh in question. “Truly, you were made for belly dancing.”

She shook her head and patted at the curves of her hips. “Well, at least the weight should be good for something.”

He kissed her lips, furious at the barbaric culture she came from, at America for telling her that she wasn’t desirable. Munir promised himself right then that he’d spend the rest of their relationship making her feel as beautiful as possible and breaking the conditioning of the West, of the messages that she could only be beautiful if she were thin as a reed and flat as possible.

How foolish those beliefs were.

“It’s all part of you, and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She grinned then and, to his displeasure, broke away from him. Sauntering to the bathroom, moving her hips with the same seductive lilt she’d applied to them during the Dance of the Seven Veils, she leaned against the threshold. Her grin broadened. His North Carolina girl had sassier minx in her than even Emma probably realized.

Crooking her finger, she whistled lowly to him. “You know, there’s a Jacuzzi the size of a swimming pool in here, don’t you?”

He smirked back at her and took off his top so that he only had his light, cotton pants on. Striding past her, he started the warm water in the Jacuzzi and slid into the bath. Before him, Emma didn’t full out belly dance, but she did shimmy slowly and invitingly out of her bandolier and panties, the only thing she had on once she was done was the studded tiara around her head. Even her castanet anklets and belly-necklace were left discarded on the floor.

Munir had to wait a bit longer to turn on the jets, as they weren’t covered enough by water yet. Still, he had an appealing view as he waited, as the warm water lapped at his hips. His
habbibi
was still dancing for him.

***

Emma wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. When Basheera had insisted on practicing the Dance with her before she and Munir left for Dubai, Emma had only done it to appease her. It was a way to make an older woman happy and get the always persuasive Basheera to stop nattering at her. Even with the veils packed in her suitcase, she hadn’t thought she’d try it. Then the skiing had been so romantic with his patient advice and the closeness of their bodies, then they’d had a fantastic dinner together, and she’d wanted to do something for him, too.

Now she was standing naked before him, allowing him to see her body in a way he hadn’t before, not like when they’d made love in her bedroom under the moonlight. No. Now? Now he could see all of her, see the imperfections of her flesh, but this was important, too. He had to accept all of her, as she was, and that was the most important thing. Emma watched as the water rose in the tub, covering his erection, concealing the glorious sight of his readied cock from her. She swayed to a beat only she could hear, running her hands over her breasts at first, kneading them with agile fingers.

“Make your nipples hard for me,
habbibi
,” he demanded.

She didn’t need more commands to comply. Keeping her eyes focused on the green-gold ones before her, Emma twisted her right nipple delicately between her fingers. It wasn’t hard to coax them erect, not with Munir watching her, licking his lips and stroking himself as she worked her nipples. As her right hand worked on her right nipple, her left graced lower, trailing seductively over her belly button and stopping just at the thatch of hair over her crotch.

“No, lower,” he said. “Show me how you stroke yourself.”

Swallowing, she nodded and started to run those fingers through her soft hair. Munir inhaled sharply and she felt her juices start to flow. Reaching down, she parted her folds and started to rhythmically stroke her labia. Her fingers were warm already from her earlier exertions and it felt good to have them there – not nearly as amazing as it would feel to have the thick, strong digits of Munir’s fingering her, but still amazing.

“More, love!” he commanded.

“Yes, my sheikh,” she said, her eyes never moving from his, still entranced by the way arousal made his eyes seem even more gold.

Her right hand was still playing with her breasts, straying over her areolas and making her hard there. The left found her clit and started to pulse against the nub of nerves there. Her hand was soaked as more of her wetness poured forth and she almost fell to the ground, her knees weak beneath her.

“Oh God!” she screamed, enthralled by her lover watching her and turned on by the thoughts of what they could do next together.

The whirring of the jets startled her out of her ministrations. She dropped her hands and glared down at the bubbles in the water, her lips turning down into a pout when she realized she could no longer see Munir’s dick bobbing in the bubbles.

“Now what are you planning, beloved?” he purred.

She licked her lips and slid into the water, its heat lapping at her skin. Curling against Munir’s muscular chest, she relaxed into his embrace. Then, she leaned up and kissed him. Emma took some extra time to bite at his lower lip and to graze her teeth over a strong chin that wouldn’t be out of place on a superhero. The stubble there grazed her tongue a bit and she broke away giggling.

“Now, my sheikh? Now I pleasure you.”

He grinned back at her and trailed a finger over nipples; she moaned at the touch. Again, her imagination was never as good – could never be as good – as the real thing. “I think I’d like that very much,
habbibi
.”

She changed position so she could face him and started by running her fingers of the plains of his stomach, over the rippling abs that she suddenly felt the urge to lick. Bending lower, she exchanged hands for tongue and traced the individual bumps of his eight pack. Her clit still throbbing with this teasing taste of him. As she went lower, she came to his happy trail, that patch of hair leading to his erection.

Once she was near his cock, she cupped his balls, rolling them between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Her right gripped his shaft and her tongue flicked out to taste the tip of him. Despite the bath water, she could taste his musk, that hint of precum that had come out already and everything that tasted so much of manliness incarnate, of Munir himself.

He groaned and rolled his eyes back. “No fair teasing,
habbibi
.”

“Oh, it’s fair to do so many things,” she said, her tongue’s tip flat against the tulip-shaped head. She flicked faster and enjoyed the way his cock twitched under her efforts. Her hands cupped his balls, squeezing more, and she felt them go taught in her grasp. Then she decided to be kind, to stop teasing, and enveloped his shaft fully with her mouth. She was a burst of manic energy then, her mouth moving up and down over his length, her neck and shoulders getting into the pumping effort. His cock and balls jerked beneath her and she could feel that he wasn’t going to hold out for long.

She broke her rhythm for only a moment, despite the bit of exhaustion starting to seep into her jaw. It was when his hands reached out to cup her nipples unexpectedly, but Emma soon recovered, her pace intensifying as the taste of him under her willing tongue drove her wild. She felt it then – the final jerk of his cock as he came, spilling his seed into her mouth. She lapped it up eagerly, swallowing it with a gusto she never had for other lovers.

No, lovers wasn’t the right word.

They’d been
boys
fumbling in the dark.

Munir was the real man, the first true lover she’d ever had, the only one to rack her body with such orgasms and to drive her with growing needs.

She finished swallowing and leaned back against him, content to let one of his hands play with her nipples as the other stroked her labia.

“I love you,
habbibi
,” he said, nuzzling at her neck. “Never forget that.”

“I know,” she said, sighing. “I wish it were all we needed, that we weren’t from different worlds.”

He stroked her soaked blonde hair back from her forehead. “Love always finds a way, beloved, always.”

***

Munir was humming to himself as he walked down to the front desk. He’d left Emma sleeping upstairs, and, while he could have called down for his surprise to be arranged, there was always the chance that she might overhear his efforts. His
habbibi
had hearing like a damn beagle. She was always insatiably curious on top of that. Still, rising early and sneaking off to the concierge was worth it in order to get the most delicious breakfast available prepared and set up privately for them on the grand space on the roof. He wanted her to see all of Dubai before the sun rose too high in the sky.

As he waited for the front desk manager to finish setting up the final arrangements, his phone rang. Munir grabbed it eagerly out of his robes at first, but frowned when the ID listed his father and not his beloved as his caller. However, even if his father was no longer truly in power, the old man would always have power over him. It would be a stupid move to spurn old Shadid by not answering. Sighing, Munir turned on the phone and replied: