The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh

“Olivia,” he muttered, “are you sure about this?”


“Mm,” she replied, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him. She tilted her head upward and caught his lips with hers to keep him quiet and help him get the message. But soon—too soon—Khaled was pulling away.

He clamped his hands around her head and held her so that he was gazing down into her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Dry mouthed, unable to speak, she nodded.

He moved fast, swiftly claiming her lips in a possessive kiss. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Tangled in each other’s arms, they toppled sideways, pulling away each other’s clothes, until eventually they lay naked in the firelight.

He paused, raising himself on one elbow, to survey her. Olivia knew she was blushing furiously. No man had ever studied her like this, with all the curiosity and precision of a scientist. Under Khaled’s examination, she didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed. Her far from perfect body, with all its lumps and bumps, had never felt so beautiful as it did now, warmed by the flickering light of the fire and the heat of Khaled’s eyes. Olivia relaxed in his admiration and let him take his time. She had plenty of admiring to do herself.

The sheikh took her breath away. Tanned skin, dark hair, deeply chiseled muscles, and long lean limbs gave his body a physical perfection she had barely imagined possible. But it was the tiny flaws that Olivia found mesmerizing: the puckered scar of an appendix operation; the patch of dry skin above each elbow; the cluster of gray hairs beginning to show behind one ear. He was no fantasy prince, he was a real man, and she wanted him all the more because of it.

“Olivia.” His voice was husky and low. He stroked his hand lazily into the dip of her waist.

“Khaled.”

“Are you on the pill?”

She blinked. He obviously wasn’t quite so carried away in the moment as she had been. Not that it was a bad thing. Someone needed to take responsibility, and she was in no state to do it.

“No.” And even if she were, she’d still be insisting on a condom, just in case.

He nodded and bent to kiss her briefly. “I’ll be right back.”

Olivia drew up her knees and rested her chin on top of them as she watched the fire. It was one thing to sprawl shamelessly naked on the carpet with Khaled admiring her and quite another to do so on her own.

He returned and dropped to his knees beside her.

“Olivia.” It sounded as though he was practicing the name. “Were you always called that?”

“My mother called me Livvy.”

“Livvy,” he repeated softly. “I like it. It’s softer. Sweeter.” Like the kisses he was trailing across her collarbone and down her arm.

She had never thought of herself as soft or sweet. Cold as ice, hard as nails, that was the reputation she had at the office. Only Khaled drew out the tender side of her character. No wonder no one else had ever thought to call her anything but Olivia.

“What about you?”

He lifted his eyes and grinned at her. “I was at a boys’ boarding school. What do you think?”

“I should think you were teased mercilessly. Isn’t that what always happens?”

He laughed, but shook his head. “Not once I showed them what I could do on the rugby field.”

“So what did they call you?”

“The masters called me Saqat, because it is my family name. The boys called me Catty. Kitten. Pussy.”

“Ouch.”

“Never more than once, though.”

No. Khaled wasn’t the sort of boy to have been subjected to malicious teasing or bullying. He had the sort of quiet strength that always commanded respect.

“Livvy?”

She turned in response and found herself in his arms again. This time his kisses were more urgent, though his caresses were still gentle against her skin, leaving tingling trails of sensation in their wake. She let her hand slide down his chest until she found the hardness of his erection. She circled it firmly and grinned at his involuntary shudder.

“Too much?”

“Not nearly enough,” he said, removing her hand and dragging her so she straddled his lap. “In your own time,” he said teasingly.

She leaned forward to brush a delicate kiss across his lips, deliberately letting her breasts fall onto his chest. “What if I want to take my time?”

He groaned. “I’ll die, but at least I’ll die happy.”

She deliberately slowed her movements, teasing and tantalizing until she couldn’t bear it longer. She raised herself up. Khaled set his hands on her hips, helping her balance as she slid slowly, surely down where she most wanted to be. Where, if his groan was any indication, he most wanted her to be.