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“Is it working?”

She clamped her mouth shut, unwilling to answer, but then the sheikh started nuzzling her neck as well, and when he started sucking on the too-sensitive skin, Harper whimpered—-

And then it was gone.

A cry of protest escaped her, and she felt the sheikh smile against her hair. “Do you have anything to say now?”

“You’re a bully.”

He laughed, but his voice was thick with lust as he said, “Only with you.”

And then he was squeezing her breasts hard while rubbing his phallus against her butt, and Harper’s entire body trembled. His touch felt so good, and the sheer size and heat of his erection was driving her out of her mind. She couldn’t stop imagining just how good it would probably feel, once she had his penis buried inside her pussy, and shit, oh, shit, but didn’t that make her a huge slut?

“I hate how weak I am with you,” she mumbled.

“How weak?” the sheikh purred in teasing. “Will you show me?”

“No.” The word came out a grumble, but when he pressed her against the glass wall of the shower Harper could only swallow hard, unable to even lift a single finger in resistance.

A soft, sexy chuckle, and the sheikh whispered into her ear, “I think you’re already showing it.”

“S-shut up.” But they both knew he was right, and when his hands moved down, she could only close her eyes and let the magic begin again.

By the time they left the shower, she was flushed, weak-kneed, and unable to protest as the sheikh once again took charge, towel-drying her body before helping her to a fluffy bathrobe.

She padded to the adjoining suite after, where her clothes were, and once dressed she seated herself before the vanity and was in the middle of blow-drying her hair when the sheikh came in. He leaned against the doorway upon seeing her, but his intense gaze made Harper feel so self-conscious she switched the dryer off, asking baldly, “What is it?”

Khalil shook his head, lying, “Nothing.” The truth was, he had never stayed around for post-coital activities with any of his former lovers. It was the first time for the sheikh to see a woman grooming herself after being with him, and the sight of Harper blow-drying her hair felt strangely erotic – as well as too damn intimate.

This is the point he should walk out, the sheikh thought,lest he forget that theirs was but a marriage of convenience.

But instead, he found himself walking towards her. “May I?”

She blinked. “Dry my hair?” At his nod, she said right away, “No.” It was too intimate, too embarrassing-—“Hey!” But it was too late, since the sheikh had already snatched the dryer from her hand.

He switched it on.

“I just said—-”

“Bend your head, please.”

And she found herself obeying the command.Damn it.Why was she such a pushover with this guy?

The feel of the sheikh running his fingers through her hair was too damn sensual, and Harper crossed her arms over her chest when she felt her breasts reacting to the sensation, swelling behind the cups of her bra and her nipples turning hard in arousal.

Shit, shit, shit.

She was such a slut with this guy.

The sheikh was similarly engrossed with what he was doing. He could not help imagining how it would feel, to hold these silky strands in his fist as he forced her to look up—-

Why not do it now, the sheikh thought.

And so he switched the dryer off, fisted her hair, and she gasped as he forced her to look up.

He bent down, kissing her hard, his tongue driving deep into her mouth.

And it was heaven.