“I promise,” she begged, offering her unimpressed brother a hopeful smile. “I promise I will do whatever you say. I just want to get off this ship for a while. Please, Fariq? I’ll be a good girl.”
That smile was dazzling, but then everything about Aliya Abdal was dazzling. She was a beauty, possessed of the kind of small, curvaceous body that never failed to turn men into fools, him most certainly included.
Christian tried not to watch her, especially with Fariq sitting right there. When he’d first brought his sister on the ship, Fariq had made it very clear his beloved little sister was off-limits. Which didn’t mean that most—if not all—of his men automatically stopped coveting her. No, from the moment she stepped foot from her quarters each day, all picture-perfect and untouchable, she became the star of every dark fantasy on this ship.
Well, okay… maybe the others’ fantasies weren’t dark, but his certainly were. Try though he did, Christian couldn’t stop imagining the lithe beauty, with a river of dark hair spilling down her back, naked and bound to a St. Andrews cross as his whip caressed her perfect, light-brown flesh. He could easily imagine how she would feel in his arms as he cut her down before taking her into a private room to fuck.
Most of the crew was divided on the question of her virginity. At twenty-two, some said her maidenhead remained intact, while others had trouble believing it. There were others still who whispered Fariq himself had taken it, something Christian completely ignored. In his fantasies, he couldn’t have cared less as he took her in every way and every position imaginable. While Fariq wasted no chance to remind his men he would cut off the balls and feed them to anyone who dared to touch her, Christian was systematically rewriting the Kama Sutra in his mind, with Aliya gasping, groaning, and happily writhing under the steady, pumping spray of his cum.
“I said no,” Fariq said, snapping Christian back to the present. The dark-skinned Arab didn’t so much as glance up from his tablet, which made it easier for Christian to readjust the full-tenting erection that now lived in his pants.
A casual observer might glance at Fariq Abdal in his tan slacks and white, button-down shirt and think him nothing more than another quintessential wealthy businessman, hard at work. Only the gun in his shoulder holster belayed that first impression, and no one knew better than Christian just how few qualms Fariq had about putting that gun to use.
Mind back on your work, he told himself firmly.
“Please!” Aliya bounced once, biting back both a whine of frustration and what looked suspiciously like a foot stomp.
Off-limits and spoiled rotten, Christian thought with a shake of his head, but that might have been an unfair assessment. He didn’t know her well, despite having met her a handful of times over the years and now living on the same yacht with her for some time. She had to be spoiled. How could anyone who lived as well as she did off the money her brother made, borrowed, or outright stole not be?
It didn’t matter how many times he told himself that, though. She was still beautiful, and ‘spoiled rotten’ didn’t ruin his view of her in her pale-pink, floral sundress and matching designer high heels. She was wearing her midnight hair loose today, and damn if her dark, pleading eyes couldn’t turn ordinary men into poets. God knows, if he had any degree of literary talent in that area, he might have been tempted to try… right after he held her down in a tub long enough to scrub off that expensive perfume she was wearing. It was driving him crazy.
“I’m sorry, but no,” Fariq said for the third time, patience personified, although only when it came to his sister. “Plans have changed. Sadly, my attention must be redirected from your pleasure to matters of business. Run along now, please.”
She wilted in disappointment, but like spoiled little rich girls everywhere, she didn’t stop trying. “Fariq, I haven’t been off the ship in months. I need to get out. I need to do something.”
“Then put on the new swimsuit I bought you. Sun yourself on the upper deck or go swimming in the pool.” His attention remained fixed on his tablet.
“You promised when we got to Morocco…” She stopped when he finally sighed, lowered the tablet, and fixed his equally dark eyes on her.
“Did you not just hear me say plans have changed?” he asked, still quiet, still patient. The quieter he got, the more he reminded Christian of a viper coiling for the strike. “When you are married and your husband needs to concentrate on business, will you still behave like a petulant child? You are growing up, my darling. As a grownup, sometimes you must forego whatever it is you think you must have whenever you think you must have it. Proper wives attend to their husband’s needs and are grateful for whatever attention and affection he can spare. Surely, the nuns who schooled you taught you better than this.”
Christian could hear the thinly-veiled warning in Fariq’s tone, but it apparently went right over Aliya’s head.
Circling to his side of the desk, she dropped all the way to her knees beside him.
“I-I’ll only take a few minutes. I’ll come right back when you say to. Please?”
Sitting at his own small desk across the room, Christian couldn’t help the twitch of appreciation that tickled his cock as he pretended not to watch. It had been entirely too long since he’d had a young woman submit herself at his feet quite that attractively. It had been even longer since a woman had willingly done so without first needing to be paid. But then, Christian had what Fariq mockingly liked to call ‘eclectic sexual preferences.’ Women like Aliya were way above his pay grade.
“My darling.” Fariq sighed. “I’m trying to work.”
Vaulting to her feet, she stomped her foot.
“This is just like the last time, even though you said it wouldn’t be. I’m always stuck on this ship!”
Tablet dropped onto his lap, Fariq frowned. He looked first at her foot, then up at her.
“As much as I love you, right down to your naughty little feet, if you do that at me again, you’ll have those offending appendages bound and subjected to bastinado. As I recall, you didn’t care much for that the last time, but it was effective. I have a very important meeting with a very wealthy contractor. I can’t simply tell him I need to reschedule, so I can take my tediously darling sister through the local bazaar. He would not only think me less of a man, but you’re a spoiled brat. Is that what you want?”
Her whole countenance fell, the dark beauty of her eyes turning wounded.
“No, but can’t… can’t I go by myself? Just this once?” She immediately dropped to her knees again, her hands resting on Fariq’s thigh. “I’m twenty-two! I’ll be careful, I promise! I’ll wear a disguise, and no one will know who I am! Please, please, Fariq!”
“Absolutely not!” If nothing else, she’d gained her brother’s undivided attention.
“My heart is broken,” she cried melodramatically.
As beautiful as she was, it was all Christian could do not to shake his head at her antics. What she needed wasn’t a shopping trip or a new bikini. What Aliya Abdal really needed was to be turned facedown over a man’s knee and spanked until her pretty little backside was sore, and she was crying with remorse. Not that her brother would do that, but the girl was utterly clueless. She really had no idea who she was trying to cajole.