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Act normal, Kyria Markides.

She slowly raised her gaze, and at the exact same moment his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

Ah!

One tug, and she fell into his lap.

Her head jerked up, and his beautiful face filled Kyria’s vision.

Oh!

It was still too much, and her hand went flying up before she could stop himself. Thankfully, it was also exactly what the sheikh predicted, and so even as his broad shoulders rocked with silent mirth, he was able to readily capture her other wrist before it could connect with the side of his face.

“You are quite the sadist, Ky,” the sheikh drawled.

Kyria’s face turned red.

“And surprisingly, it’s also quite the turn-on—-”

Her face turned even redder. “Malik!” She squirmed on his lap, trying to get away, but this only made the sheikh grin.

“Relax,” he crooned.

“L-like I can!” She struggled harder to get out of his hold, but his fingers around her wrists were like manacles.

“I’m only doing this so that you’d get used to me.” The sheikh spoke like he was the voice of reason; the gleam in his eyes, however, was anything but. It was the very definition of devilry, and oh—-

Would it be a sin if that look in his eyes thrilled rather than terrified her?

“This is bad, Malik,” Kyria said in a small voice.

“It is.” His lips curved in a sinfully beautiful smile. “And that’s how we want it, don’t we?”

Her heart slammed against her chest.

His head started to lower.

Oh no.

His lips, now an inch away from hers, started to move. “Kiss me,” the sheikh whispered.

Oh, oh, no.

But her eyes still closed, her face lifting to his, and their lips touched.

Oh yes.

The kiss was heartbreakingly tender at the first second, but then his tongue slipped in, and their kiss turned hot and fierce in an instant. His hands let go of hers to hold her by the waist and haul her close, and instead of pushing him away Kyria’s arms went around his neck while her legs wrapped around his waist. The new position had the sheikh groaning her name out loud, and the sound demolished what little sense she had left.

She moaned against his lips, a silent plea for more of the pleasure that she knew only the sheikh could give her.

“Kyria,fuck...”

The sheikh’s hands moved down to her hips, and gripping them hard, he began moving her up and down his engorged cock.

Arousal and disbelief warred inside of her, and fighting hard to cling to her sanity, she tried to get up, stammering, “We’re o-outside—-”

“It’s fine,” the sheikh rasped. “This whole area is covered by my security.” And with that, his hands tightened around her hips, and even as Kyria let out a small sound of protest, he was still making her move, grinding her pussy down on his cock. His ridged erection rubbed against her folds, faster and harder, driving her mad, making her want more of the pressure—-