Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“I just can’t do that to her,” Malik gritted out under his breath. “Okay?” His dark gaze swung to his brother. “You at least understand that, don’t you?”
“I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” Altair loathed seeing his younger brother suffer, but since Kyria was also his sister, he couldn’t help agreeing with what Malik was saying. Eighteen was still too young, but...how much waiting should Malik condemn himself to?
Looking at Malik, he said with a shake of his head, “You’ve always had a knack for making trouble, but this...” Sardonic humor flashed in Altair’s eyes. “I have to hand it to you, Malik. You could have any girl in the world throw herself at your feet, and yet you just had to pick the one girl you can’t have.”
Malik raised his glass in a mock toast, saying, “And since the five of us are supposedly bound by the same fate, may all of us want the girl we can never have.”
Everyone sputtered and cursed as they realized what they were toasting to, none of them taking it lightly since there was a Ramilian myth about a king and his four vassals that revolved around the five men sharing the same fate.
Three years ago
It was no longer an uncommon sight for the palace to see Malik dressed for riding at dawn and spending almost the entire day in the stables. Since his return to the kingdom, he had successfully made a name for himself as a horse breeder. Fans all over the world still clamored for his comeback in racing, but as far as the sheikh was concerned that part of his life was over and done with. He would have stuck with it only if it had been capable of making him forget, but it had not. Nothing could. He had long accepted this – and had since found a different way to fuck things up.
“A visitor for you, Sheikh.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled his gloves off, and the guards bowed before retreating. Left behind was a petite brunette, and as soon as the door to his office closed her lips curved in a provocative smile. “You had a need for me, Your Highness?”
Malik threw his gloves away, and when he turned to face her again, Iris had already settled herself on top of a steel cabinet, back against the post, and legs wide open. As he strode towards her, she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it all the way up to her waist. The action bared her legs and lack of her underwear, her quivering pussy already glistening with need.
He unzipped himself, and Iris let out a moan of satisfaction as he thrust inside of her without a word, his already engorged cock sinking hard into her moist depths. Her arms looped over around his neck as the sheikh began to fuck her, harder than any man had, and her head fell back. “Yes.” Her eyes closed, her nails raking his back. “Ye—-”
His mouth covered hers, and she kissed him with such undisguised hunger that he almost felt guilty.
Almost.
She probably thought he was kissing her out of desire, but the truth was, Malik only wanted her to shut up. He didn’t want her to make a single fucking sound because then it would be ruined. He would no longer be able to pretend it was another girl he was fucking—-
Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed the cheeks of her ass and squeezed hard as he drove his cock back into her. He felt her start to moan, and he kissed her harder. The urge to make noise disappeared, and Iris was now busy sucking on his tongue.
“Come inside me,” she whispered into his ear.
He pulled away, his lips twisting into a smile as he gazed down at her. “Don’t push it.”
A throaty laugh escaped her. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
He only grunted, and because he wasn’t really in the mood to chat, he plumped her breast and drew one nipple into his mouth. He bit hard, and Iris let out a gasp. He might not give a damn about her, but he wasn’t that much an asshole not to pay any attention to her needs. Her breasts were her most sensitive area, and in moments, Iris’ hips were pushing against his wildly.
She started to scream his name, but again he captured her mouth with his, not wanting to hear it.
They came together in harsh, raw silence, the slapping of their bodies the only sound that tinged the air.
When the sheikh finally pulled away, Iris took one look at his drawn face and knew better than to say a word. He was one mysteriously moody son of a bitch, and she had been in this business long enough to know it wasn’t her face he saw when fucking her.