My Insatiable Sheikh - Marian Tee Page 0,30

bed, and he was looming over me, his handsome face taut with desire. I saw his gaze trail down just as he pried my legs open, and my heart leapt to my throat as I felt him staring at my aching cunt.

Idiot that I was, I thought he'd say something at that moment, but...

This was the sheikh, after all.

And because the asshole knew that my lack of experience meant I only had the usual books and movies to rely on (and in those cases, the guy would always say something first, just to sort of prepare the girl for what was about to happen)—-

The only warning I got was that cruel glint of triumph in his dark gaze.

Oh, fuck.

I'm fucked.

And I was.

I cried out as his enormous cock tore through my hymen in one deep, hard thrust, and the pain, albeit fleeting, was still enough to have my body stiffen and jerk. I instinctively dug my nails deep into the panes of his back. I wanted him to hurt, too, dammit, and his grunt of pain was music to my ears.

The feeling of being so fully penetrated, with his dick embedded to the hilt, was nothing like I imagined. He had me so fucking stuffed, there didn't seem to be the tiniest part inside of me that his cock wasn't rubbing against, and when I felt him slowly start to withdraw...

All I could do was tense and hold my breath, unable to help wondering if perhaps this was the part where the sheikh would inevitably fail me. Surely, it couldn't feel any better—-

Aaaaah.

A sudden gasp tore out of my throat as the sheikh, having withdrawn almost completely out of me, suddenly plunged back in with ruthless force. It hurt, of course it fucking did, but more than that, however—-

So. Fucking. Good.

The sheikh started shoving in and out of me. Slow and steady at first, then gradually picking up the pace until he was hammering into me, just fucking me really hard and good that my tits were shaking with every thrust, and I felt myself starting to unravel at the sheer pleasure of his possession.

I heard myself start to moan, and the sound had him growling with pleasure.

Too fucking good, dammit.

Just too fucking good, and every second I could feel my control slipping further and further away from me. My hands were all over his body, gripping his hair and clutching his shoulders, and when this wasn't enough, my legs snaked up to wrap around his waist as my fingers dug into the muscled cheeks of his ass.

And throughout it, he just kept pounding into me, his stamina showing no fucking signs of flagging, and just when I thought we had reached our peak, I felt his hand snake between our bodies—-

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck—-

His fingers found my clit, and I moaned and buckled as he began tweaking and pinching the swollen nub.

God, too fucking good, so damn good, that when he raised himself up to kiss me, I was like an eager little puppy as I kissed him back with unrestrained passion.

His fingers on my clit, his cock pounding my pussy...

Just too fucking good, too, too fucking good...

And as much as I wanted it to last—-

It was over the moment I heard him whisper into my ear.

Raj.

My eyes flew open, and oh God, there it was again.

That flash of emotion in his eyes that couldn't possibly be real.

"Make good use of my name, habibti."

And that was it.

His thumb flicked against my clit as his cock sank back into my quivering pussy, and all I could do was sob his name as I started to cum.

Raj.

Raj.

Raj.

See you in twenty.

My favorite cum tank needs refilling.

Message received at 1155h from Asshole.

Chapter Thirteen

His favorite cum tank?

What the fuck did he mean by calling me his favorite cum tank?

Shouldn't I be his only cum—-

Shit.

Fuck.

Wait a goddamn minute.

I was supposed to take offense at his choice of words, dammit, instead of becoming spitting mad at the possibility that he could have another cum tank besides me.

This was all the piece of sheikh's fault, dammit. Once an asshole, always supposed to stay an asshole. That was how it should be with guys like him. He wasn't supposed to fucking change and be disarmingly sweet, like telling me his real name just when I least expected it or surprising me with a bouquet of exotic roses on the dreaded morning after. Of course, he did pre-empt that by waking me up by squeezing my jaw open, and