The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 6)

  The Sheikh’s Surprise Mistress:

  Part 2

  (The Jatar Sheikhs Series #6)

  By: Jessica Brooke

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2014 Jessica Brooke

  No part of this story can be used without prior permission from the author.

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  Note: This is a spin-off novella of “The Sheikh’s Virgin Mistress” series. To avoid spoilers, start with Part 1!

  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Author’s Note to all of my fans:

  Preface

  After his arrival in the US, Amir had been unable to keep his hands off of me. Don’t get me wrong, I was not complaining. This god of a man is the best lover I’ve ever had. He should be given awards—at the very least, he should be knighted as such.

  For the past month or so, it had been nothing but passionate love making between him and I. I do believe I was in a permanent state of love drunk from the overflow of attention my golden-skinned sheikh was showering upon me.

  Mine? My sheikh? Was this really happening?

  “Oh God, Amir—no—no—oh shit!” I shrieked as his long middle finger pressed on my G-spot.

  “You will climax for me now, princess.”

  Um, okay—not like I had a choice. Another shriek pierced the air, and he seemed delighted. The deep appreciative sounds he made, melted me further.

  He continued to enforce his dominance over my body. He was lapping at what he loving refers to as my nectar. And wow, there was his masterful tongue!

  He was insisting with his teeth, tongue, and lips, and the way he gripped my bottom just added another layer to this constant orgasmic state he persisted on keeping me in. He continued to growl and said, “You are mine, Julie.”

  He said that last one a lot, and even though it does something to my insides when he says it, it also sends off a red flag in my mind. I couldn’t take the time to notice the warnings, though. At least not yet. I must wallow in what he is eliciting from my insides.

  His shaft was also incredible, and he knew how to use it. There was something to be said for a man who is older and experienced. He confessed to me that love making was something he considers an art, and he an aficionado. I can’t say anything to the contrary. He is magnificent, and for a guy almost ten years my senior, I find him the sexiest, most commanding professional of all things erotic. I’ve only read about men like him, and honestly, I never thought they existed in real life.

  “I will take you now. Spread for me my Valkyrie.”

  He calls me that a lot—Valkyrie—upon asking for clarification, he explained the Valkyrie were daughters of the gods, lovers of heroes and royalty. They decide who shall live and who shall die in battle and they safeguard those chosen to die. He said he’d felt like a corpse for years after the death of his wife and son, but the second he saw me, his heart had begun to beat anew. He said I resurrected him.

  It’s all pretty heady stuff for a girl like me, and as much as I’ve fought this attraction, I hadn’t done a very good job of fending him off.

  “Now, female…”

  He likes it when I surrender to him. He likes to pin me and dominate my body. He does a good job, and I find myself succumbing and helpless against his advances more than I succeed at turning him away. Like right now. He’d stalked up my body, and the thick, incredibly heavy weight of his erection was pulsing against my belly. He captured both my wrists in his massive hand, and was about to kiss me with a very shiny face.

  It was me that’s all over his lips, and when we kiss, I taste the combination of us. It’s incredibly arousing and does something to me when he wallows fully in what he’s produced from my body.

  He rubbed himself against my center and dragged his hot length against and over my uber-sensitive clit. “Oh Amir, oh God—inside me—please—please.”

  “Tell me who I am, Julie.” He, of course, had the sexiest accent.

  I curled a lip and teased him.

  He chuckled and teased my entrance with the broad, swollen crown of his huge shaft.

  “Tell me what you know I must hear.”

  I rolled my hips and managed to seat him partially into my sheath. We both shuddered, and I felt a tremble run through his entire body. I leaned up to take his mouth with mine, and I pushed more of him into me. I whispered, teasing him, “I don’t know…”

  “Female!” he gasped and slammed his granite hardness all the way into me.

  This time, it was me that more than shuddered as I writhed under his power. “Oh my God, Amir!”

  “Tell me!” he ordered and then took three hard thrusts in and out of my soaked core. His hand around my wrists tightened, and his other hand gripped my body, and he laid fully on me, in me, pinning me solidly under his weight. His voice became gentler, and he began to grab me harder as he slid in and out of my slick center.

  My entire body tingled with shivers, and then a rush of heat boiled up from my belly.

  “You are my sheikh, Amir.”

  His eyes sparkled, and he increased his thrusts. My belly boiled, and I whined, “Please, Amir—oh God…”

  Harder and with ferocity, he pumped his hips. “Yes—you are mine!”

  “Please let me cum,” I pleaded with him.

  He gritted his teeth and locked his eyes on mine as he took a final bruising stroke. I screamed as his entire body clenched. His hardness throbbed and pulsed inside me, and he released in perfect rhythm with me. We both gasped and choked, and I writhed as the pressure cooker exploded in my belly. His release was hot and scorched its way up inside me, and my entire body seized in pleasure. The sounds I made sound like agony, but it’s more the opposite.

  Amir laid on top of me in complete ecstasy, gasping through strangled breaths and intense emotions. It’s like this every time we make love—or fuck—whatever it is—what we both feel is beyond comprehension.

  When we are both spent and still twitching, he releases my wrists and gently pets me and kisses me until he deflates enough to slide free of my body. When this happens, I moan and whine at his departure.

  “I wish you could always be inside me,” I whispered. “You are magnificent, Amir. A god among mortals.”

  His lazy grin slayed me, “Ahhh, yes my Julie—you’ve awakened me.”

  Chapter One

  It was early Saturday morning, and Amir woke me up with a poke. I am not much of a morning person, and I groaned at him.

  “Are you always hard?”

  “For you, my beautiful, I am. I went too long without, and now I need you like water. You are my oasis. My existence was parched before you hydrated me.”

  I rolled my eyes and sucked in my lip, “Well if you’re gonna go all poetic on me, I have no defense against you.”

  I pushed the covers off my naked body and spread my legs, affecting a sleepy tone, “Go ahead—do as you please. I’
m going to sleep in. Please don’t wake me.”

  He laughed and cupped my plump tit, “I love your breasts. You are so luscious.”

  He leaned over and suckled it into his mouth, making sounds as if it were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. Then he slid his hardness against my thigh, skidding along my skin.

  “I need you again,” he uttered through a mouthful of boob.

  I remained unaffected—on the outside—but my insides were already softening. “I said have your way—just don’t wake me up.”

  I closed my eyes and yawned.

  He continued on, also appearing as if it doesn’t bother him in the slightest if I sleep through love making. Of course, his hand migrated to my thin swath of curls between my legs.

  “Perhaps we shall go shopping today. Would my princess perchance wish to purchase new shoes? New outfits? Will you need new clothes for your maternal body?”

  “Oh God, Amir—don’t call it that!”

  I rolled away from him, and he took that as an invite to grab me and pull me against him.

  “I don’t want to think about swelling up and getting fat.”

  “Ahhh, I see. I find a woman with a child—especially my child—to be the most beautiful specimen on the planet.”

  “Not me. I still wish I wasn’t pregnant.”

  I say it with a bit too much bite in my tone, and he retreated to lay on his back. “Sorry.”

  He was silent so long, I rolled over to look.

  “Amir, sorry. It’s too early for me.”

  I trailed my hand across his sparsely haired chest and then down his tight abdomen.

  “I know how important this is to you. I didn’t mean that,” I said.

  He simply shook his head in disgust, ignoring me completely.

  I felt incredibly guilty and unfortunately wide awake. I put my hand over his on his erection and paused what he’s doing. I knew how much he loves it when I pleasure him. I can usually make amends if I offer it. I have to do this often because my stupid big mouth often goes off without my permission and I find I’ve once again insulted him unwittingly.

  I slid down to his hip, pushed his hand completely away from his hardness, and grasped him at his base.

  “Yes, darling, I will need a few new clothes as my belly expands.”

  I pumped my hand once and traced a finger over his already glistening crown. He lifted his hips and twitched.

  “And yes, you know how much I love to shop.” I rubbed the slit in his tip and pressed in on it—something I knew he loves.

  “How about you spend some money on me, and I apologize for my rude comment.” He finally grunted his acceptance of my terms and bucked his hips towards my mouth.

  For all his dominance, this is one area he was still hesitant, but was learning. His hips rocked, and I encouraged him with swallows and moans. I also positioned my breasts on his thigh and grind my body harshly against his.

  He petted at my hair, and his body continued to twitch in pleasure.

  “You are the most amazing female I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter Two

  Amir and I went shopping, and he spent a literal fortune on me. I got all kinds of new clothes and a couple new pairs of boots for wearing in the cooler months. He voiced his wishes that I never wear pants.

  “I want you in dresses at all times. No underwear—panties only as lingerie. Is this understood?”

  “I guess.”

  “What is the problem? I do not understand this being a problem.”

  I shrugged in response. “I like to wear jeans.”

  “When I am not around, you may wear anything you wish. When I am with you, I want you barely covered. Is this understood?”

  I didn’t feel like arguing with him about it, so I shrugged again and capitulated to his demands. I didn’t know when or if I would get used to his domineering attitude, and I do give him some wiggle room given his Arab culture and the simple fact he is a king of a nation. So, I let a lot go, and I shrugged them off as just being in a relationship with a man of his stature. Hopefully, I won’t lose myself in the process.

  “We will dine tonight. I have made reservations for us.”

  “Okay, that sounds great. Next week, though, I need to get back some sort of life. I have two interviews in New York and a follow up at the…”

  He interrupted me with a confused expression. “Why are you applying for jobs?”

  “Um, well, Amir, this is all fun and satisfying and all that…but at some point I have to live my life. You get to go back to your palace and servants, and I’m going to have to…”

  “No! You are now under my care. I assumed you would be accompanying me back to Abu Dhabi. I can care for you—my servants will also be yours.”

  He seemed genuinely perplexed that I wanted to live my own life.

  “Yeah—I mean—well—I would love some help as I get farther along in the pregnancy, and after the baby is born some financial help would be wonderful. But…”

  “No! I will not hear of this. You will return with me.”

  He paced across the expanse of the suite and seemed genuinely angry at me. He turned and gritted his teeth. “Julie. I was going to wait until this evening, but I cannot for a moment longer.”

  He went to the desk and lifted out a black ring box and then strode to me. My legs began to shake, and I grew dizzy. He knelt on one knee and opened the box.

  Oh shit—no—no—no! My mind swirled with random memories and visions of a future of me locked in a desert palace, covered from head to toe in sheets or robes or whatever it was they smothered their women with. I loved him—at least, I thought I did. I was carrying his child, so he did have a few rights and some say in all this, but I didn’t have to marry him.

  It was modern times, after all, and I could raise a child on my own. Yeah, getting a job might prove difficult, but I would find something eventually. Even Anna’s mom had said she would help me. My mom was in Kansas and busy with her new husband and his kids, so I knew I wouldn’t get much from them. But when Anna had told her mom—who lived just fifteen minutes from me—that I was pregnant, she’d immediately said she would help—that I could even live with her if I needed.

  “Julie? What is wrong? Do you not want this?”

  Now I was crying. Damn this man and his ability to elicit tears from me. I never cried. I was much too practical and realistic to cry or ever break down. Damn him, anyway.

  “Um—Amir, I…”

  I choked on a sob and found I didn’t have words. Another power he had over me, which really frustrated the hell out of me. He looked downtrodden and confused as he sat on the bed, the glorious ring still nestled in the black velvet box. I sat next to him and set my hand in his free one.

  “It’s a stunning ring,” I offered.

  He snapped the box closed, and the sharp rapport made me internally jump. Turning to me he said, “I do not understand you. I only wish to protect you, care for you; offer you a life of leisure and luxury. I want our child born in my country.”

  His voice grew sterner and stronger and he stood. “You are a stubborn American woman, and I find you difficult to love.”

  I remained silent, still wordless at his onslaught.

  “Julie, you are a spoiled brat who only wants her own way. Have you not considered what this child means to me? The second chance you’ve offered me at happiness? At a life with a family. With a wife of my own!”

  He pointed at me and glared.

  “You are denying me all I’ve ever wished for! I have lavished you with gifts and attention and—and—LOVE! Yet you still deny me this one thing? You still insist on this need to work and be independent. Why? This makes no sense to me whatsoever!”

  I could tell he was getting angrier with each word. “Can I talk?”

  He inhaled sharply and waved his hand, but before I could get out a word, he started a new tirade.

  “You are only a few weeks along in this pregnancy. How do I know you will not change y
our mind about this, too? Have you simply been playing me? Is this even real? Have you considered what the life of a motherless child is like? You will be working, and the child will never know you. I want to know this baby! I want to raise this baby in the country he will someday inherit!”

  He continued on in this vein at length, and I sat and listened.

  Finally when he was done, he threw his hand in the air and indicated I could say something. He was pretty riled up at this point, so I picked my words carefully.

  “Amir, I am sorry. I am not excluding you by denying you marriage.”

  He made a sound of disbelief.

  “No really! I want to do this with you. I want you to be part of our baby’s life. I already decided I would keep it—I am not going back on that promise I made to you and to the baby.”

  He barked, “It is my son! You are carrying my heir!”

  “I don’t know yet what the sex is. Will you care for it less if it’s a girl?”

  He seemed shocked. “Of course not! She will be you—I love you! Do you not understand this, Julie?”

  I nodded. “I know you think you love me, Amir, but honestly we hardly know each other. Isn’t this too young for us to run off and get married? What happens when this first crush feeling wears off? What then? Do you leave me alone in an empty palace while you go in search of better fulfillment?”

  He now seemed confused. “What are you talking about? I was loyal to my wife, and I didn’t feel anything closer for her than what I feel for you. We had no passion such as you and I share. I loved her and was faithful. I worshipped her and our son.”

  He dramatically waved his hands in the air in frustration. “What is this crush you speak of? Do you not love me? Have these past two weeks been a lie? All of our confessions? Did you not enjoy the pleasures I gave your body?”

  I stood and walked towards him.

  “Amir! No! I am wholly involved in this—in this thing we have! I’ve been honest with you—one hundred percent real! I do love you—I do! But like you said, it’s only been a couple weeks. Concentrated time since we’ve been together continually, but still, only a couple weeks. I do love you. Please look at me, Amir. Please hear me.”