Politically Incorrect: Subjugated Read online

  Another moan. As he stared at her cunt and inhaled the sweet scent of feminine arousal, he wasn’t sure if the sound had come from him, her or both of them.

  “Please,” Shannon whimpered. “Kiss me there.”

  Hani wanted to kiss her everywhere—and wallah he would—but his eyes were too busy branding what he most coveted to verbalize his intentions. He licked her instead, a long swipe from clit to hole that caused his sensual wife to moan louder.

  “You taste even better than in my dreams, habibti.” He licked her cunt vigorously, feverishly. His cock swelled impossibly further, wanting into the sweet place his mouth had claimed.

  “Hani,” she gasped. “I—”

  He drew her clit into his mouth and suckled hard. His wife moaned long and loud, her entire body shuddering as she came for him. He was so aroused that all higher thoughts deserted him. He’d never felt so animalistic and out of control. He wanted to lap up every drop of her juices, but, panting for breath, Shannon fell forward onto their bed and gulped in lungfuls of air.

  “Roll over,” Hani growled, quickly undoing the drawstring of his sarwal and discarding it to the floor. He was egotistically pleased with her willingness to obey him. He watched her roll onto her back and, light eyes widening, she licked her lips as she caught her first glimpse of his fully aroused, naked body.

  Wallah, he wanted to fuck her forever. Those huge tits beckoned him closer. As he sat on his knees before her splayed thighs, he couldn’t resist grabbing them and rubbing his thumbs over her erect, pink nipples. He needed to suck on them for hours and knew that he would before she was permitted to leave this bed for even a moment.

  “Hani,” Shannon whispered, her voice drunk with passion, “you’re so sexy.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her it was she who was the sexy one, but his wife chose that moment to grab his stiff cock in her soft hands and pump him root to head. He groaned, the feeling better than he could have ever imagined.

  “No more, habibti,” Hani gritted out. He was too close to coming. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he mentally counted to ten to keep from disgracing himself. “I want my cum inside you.”

  He grabbed his erection by the base and guided it toward the tight, wet slit glistening before him. A trimmed, wanton thatch of gold hair at her mons caught his gaze and his balls tightened mercilessly. Everything about his wife was sensual and arousing and in mere moments she would irrevocably belong to him. No Saudi court would annul a consummated marriage.

  He didn’t care what lengths he had to go to. She was his and she was never leaving him.

  Hani thrust inside Shannon, fully impaling her in one possessive thrust. They groaned together and her hands came around him, grabbing his buttocks.

  “I will not last long this first time, hayati,” Hani rasped. “Forgive me.”

  Her lips parted as if to speak, but he couldn’t hold back a second longer. His balls tight with cum, the need to move inside her was overpowering. She moaned as he began to rock back and forth. Hani thrust in and out of her tight, sticky pussy with long, branding strokes. The reality of her cunt was so much better than the fantasy. He fucked her harder and harder, faster and faster, again and again and again.

  “Hani.”

  “I’m coming, Shan,” he growled against her ear. He pumped her hard, wanting to fuck her to her core, wanting to fuck her forever. The sound of her flesh suctioning in his was Hani’s undoing.

  Hani groaned as he came, ruthlessly fucking her as her pussy milked his cock for all his cum. He branded her as his with every stroke, his cock still rock hard even as it continued spurting.

  “Mine,” he said hoarsely. “All mine.”

  And she was, even if she didn’t yet know it.

  He collapsed on top of his wife, his breathing ragged. She held him tightly and whispered sweet words against his ear. Her hands stroked his perspiration-soaked back and lingered like butterfly wings at his hard buttocks.

  He had never felt so content, so complete.

  He had never felt so terrifyingly vulnerable.

  * * * * *

  Hani awoke the next morning to the feel of his cock being sucked on. His breath came out in a hiss as he opened his eyes and watched his wife give him a blowjob. He had never seen anything so erotic as this. Her full lips suctioned his shaft into the depths of her throat. She moaned around his cock, taking him in further than he had known was possible.

  “Shan,” he ground out, wrapping her golden hair around his hand. His jaw clenched as her sucks became shallow but faster. “You feel so good.”

  She gently kneaded his tight balls with her hands while her head furiously bobbed up and down. He thought he might die and conceded it was a good way to go. She sucked harder and faster, deeper and longer. She sucked him like she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The thought was heady.

  Hani roared out his orgasm, his body shaking as he came in Shannon’s mouth. He hoped she wouldn’t be upset that he’d spurted into her mouth, but he could no sooner stop his release than he could have stopped the sun from rising.

  When he saw her drink up every drop he had to offer, his worry dissipated. Hani’s breathing harsh, he pulled his wife up to lie beside him.

  Shannon was the sexiest, most erotic, most beautiful woman on earth. And she was his.

  Chapter Eight

  Shannon’s nipples were sore from being sucked on, but the look of fascination and enjoyment on her husband’s handsome face more than made up for any discomfort. He reminded her of a kid at Christmas who’d gotten the toy he most wanted from Santa’s bag. He’d been sucking her nipples off and on—mostly on—for at least four hours. He’d been fucking her just as long, staying inside her even during his brief moments of rest.

  Physically, Hani possessed the stamina of a god with the eagerness of a virgin. She knew she’d be sore when he finally took his cock out of her, but found herself not caring. He could stay inside her as long as he wanted to, even though the look on his face suggested he planned to set up shop.

  She was his first lover. The knowledge filled Shannon with a possessive pride that was at once heady and heartbreaking. She had wanted this consummation as much as Hani had if not more, but saying goodbye had just become that much more difficult to do. The conflicting emotions were causing tears to sting the backs of her eyes. She forced them away along with the sad thoughts, not wanting to ruin this night for him or for herself.

  They both needed this moment in time together. What’s more, they both deserved it.

  Hani released her nipple from his mouth with a popping sound. His head came up and he watched her through thick eyelashes. “Something has upset you,” he murmured.

  She stiffened, unused to someone being that in tune with her thoughts and feelings. “Not at all,” she hedged, smiling softly.

  His features were harsh, serious. “Never lie to me.”

  Their gazes clashed. She swallowed.

  “I’ll be sad when we divorce,” Shannon finally whispered.

  His stilled and his nostrils flared. “Then you won’t ever be sad.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. He wanted to stay married?

  “Never speak this word ‘divorce’ to me again,” Hani said gruffly. “It’s haram.”

  Her mind reeling with a thousand thoughts, she was having trouble following the conversation. “Haram?”

  “Forbidden.”

  Shannon opened her mouth to speak, but her husband chose that moment to push his stiff cock deep inside of her. She gasped and he used the opportunity to claim her lips in a demanding, possessive kiss. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck as her tongue found his. Their kiss was as desperate and searching as her thoughts.

  And then he started to fuck her, hard, and all thoughts flew from her worried brain. She arched her hips up to meet his thrusts, reveling in the sound of the groans he couldn’t contain. Flesh slapped against flesh, her sensitive tits jiggling, as he impaled her ov
er and over, again and again.

  “Hayati,” he gritted out, fucking her like an animal. He plunged in and out of her with merciless, branding strokes. She could feel a strong orgasm forming in her belly as his huge cock rooted inside her. He fucked her harder and faster, deeper and urgently.

  “Oh God,” Shannon moaned, throwing her hips back at him. Her pussy clenched his cock, sucking him back in with every outstroke. “Hani.”

  “Come for me, hayati,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. “Now.”

  Shannon had no choice but to obey as a violent orgasm ripped through her belly. She screamed out his name and thrashed her hips against him, wanting him buried as deeply in her pussy as he could possibly go.

  Hani grabbed her hips and positioned them in front of him, then impaled her harder, his hips pistoning back and forth in fast, deep plunges. The sound of their flesh meeting, the scent of combined arousal, the look of pleasured agony on his face…

  She came again, the second wave harder than the first. He groaned out her name and, fucking her like he owned her, shuddered and convulsed as his cum spurted inside her.

  Their heavy breaths needed time to steady so neither of them spoke for a long while. And still, all these hours and countless orgasms later, he kept himself buried where he most wanted to be. Finally, curiosity won out and Shannon had to ask one question. She didn’t ask the one foremost in her mind because she was too worn out for a conversation about their future.

  “What does that word mean?” Shannon murmured.

  He raised his head and looked down into her face inquiringly.

  “The name you call me in bed. Not habibti, but the one you’ve used only while we’re…well…here.”

  “Hayati?”

  “Yeah, that one. What does it mean?”

  He was quiet for so long she had started to think he’d never answer. “There is no English translation for this name,” he finally said.

  She smiled. “Try. Get as close as you can.”

  His dark eyes searched her gaze. “It means, my life.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “My life?”

  Hani pulled her head down and forced her to rest against his chest. He said nothing for a suspended moment and then, “My life,” he murmured. “My love.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next several days were the happiest, most fulfilling moments in time Shannon had ever known. She spent every waking moment with Hani and found herself not only enjoying his company but genuinely liking the man he was proving himself to be. She hadn’t known her husband possessed a sense of humor until he’d made her laugh so hard she’d almost peed her pants, but he did and she loved it.

  It didn’t take but one touristy outing in Jeddah for her to gain a basic but working understanding of how people were expected to behave in Saudi Arabia. Men and women never openly mingled in public settings, but privately it was pretty much the same as back home. Interactions between the genders were much more formalized, but not as rigid as she’d first surmised.

  Public settings took some getting used to. Everything was divided by gender to the point of being absurd, at least to her way of thinking. All stores, whether posh jewelers or obscure fast food joints, had separate lines for male and female customers. Deciding it was a waste of time for both of them to stand in different lines, Shannon usually waited for Hani to pay after choosing what she wanted.

  There were restaurants that didn’t permit single men to dine in them under any circumstances—only married couples and their families could do so. When single men were allowed in the same establishment as couples, they were corralled off to remote areas that might as well have been in another restaurant altogether.

  The one place where unrelated men and women could be together in view of the world was in an automobile. Since females weren’t permitted to drive, their working husbands hired them male drivers to chauffer them around. Hani agreed it was a stupid law and felt women would be given the right to drive very soon. Shannon wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Where she and undoubtedly all Saudi females would view gaining that freedom as an expression of independence, the men would have succeeded in further removing intimacies between people not married to each other.

  And still Hani didn’t relent on the issue of the black tent. She now owned at least a dozen of the ugly things and hated every single one. She tried to make herself believe he liked to cover her up because of his jealous tendencies, but she’d never really seen him display any. Not that there was a reason to get jealous when nobody could see what she looked like or even guess with remote accuracy!

  Still, try as she did to feel differently about it, wearing the niqab was depressing in the extreme. It made her feel like an ugly secret best kept hidden. Especially since the overwhelming majority of Jeddah women covered their hair with the hijab, but had otherwise visible faces. She’d seen very few females covered up so draconically and found herself wondering what they looked like underneath.

  On the sixth evening of her arrival, Hani invited his best friend over, a man named Nizar whom he’d known and gone to school with since childhood. Nizar’s wife accompanied him to the private dinner party for four and Shannon was surprised but delighted to find out that she was also an American.

  When Nizar introduced his wife, Kelli, Shannon’s smile faltered beneath the niqab. Kelli was beautiful and Nizar was proud to show off her face, no covering required. She appeared to be around the same age as her husband, which was as rare in Saudi as having an older wife. Husbands almost always had five to ten years on their spouses as young brides were expected to also be biddable brides.

  Her teeth ground together as cordial introductions were exchanged. Shannon found herself even more irritated when, twenty minutes later, Kelli removed her hijab because she was hot and they weren’t in public. “Deal with it,” Kelli grumbled to Nizar, gaining Shannon’s instant respect, “It’s at least one hundred degrees today, babe.” He frowned but didn’t challenge her, and that too gained Shannon’s approval.

  It didn’t take long for Shannon to become fast friends with Kelli. The redhead was as witty and friendly as she was pretty. And although the age difference between Kelli and Nizar wasn’t as big as the one between Shannon and Hani, she was pleased to learn that Kelli’s age superseded her husband’s by five years.

  “It’s the culture here,” Kelli advised Shannon over iced tea. “On the surface, it looks as though everything is run by men, but the true power lies with the female elders of the family.” She nodded, underlining her point. “No Saudi male would ever in a thousand years offend his mother or grandmother.” She grinned. “Win over the mother and maternal grandmother and you’ve got it made in the shade.”

  Shannon half snorted and half laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Shannon blew out a breath. “I doubt I’ll ever meet his mom and grandma.”

  The expression on Kelli’s face indicated that she didn’t understand why Shannon would make such a statement so she spent the next ten minutes enlightening her new friend to the facts of her marriage. In essence, the wedding ceremony had been nothing more than a means to an end for both of them. Even if Shannon had since come to wish that fateful event had meant more.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Kelli’s forehead wrinkled. “Nizar, our kids and I have spoken to Hani at least two dozen times over the phone while you guys were living in New York and he never alluded that a divorce would be coming.”

  Shannon shrugged as gloom settled over her. “He isn’t the type of man to confide personal details to people,” she said quietly.

  “But he’s also not the sort of man who lies,” Kelli insisted, “and so far nothing you’ve said matches up to what he’s told us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She ticked off her list of points on her fingers. “He told us he got married. He told us it would be a while before he could bring his bride home because
her father was dying.”

  Shannon’s heart clenched at the mention of her dad, but she listened with rapt interest as Kelli continued. “He told us she was a lawyer, her name was Shannon, and that he couldn’t be happier with his choice. He even said he hoped to be a father within a year of bringing you back to Jeddah.”

  Shannon stilled, her mind reeling. She thought about all the intense stares he’d given her over the past year—looks she now understood to be sensual in nature but hadn’t realized as much until she’d spent time with him in Jeddah. Could it be that…? Could Hani have…? No, it wasn’t possible.

  “It sounds to me,” Kelli said, chuckling, “like you’ve been kidnapped by your husband.”

  Shannon’s jaw dropped. Not that anyone could see it.

  “Oh man, I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you give him hell.” A pair of dimples popped out on Kelli’s cheeks. “And when I tell Nizar about this he would wish the same thing.”

  “You two won’t have to wish,” Shannon promised between set teeth. “Give me ten minutes and you’ll get the show of a lifetime.”

  Kelli couldn’t stop chuckling, especially when Shannon excused herself to use the powder room. Shannon saw Hani’s left eyebrow raise inquiringly, but she pretended not to notice and kept walking. Once out of eyesight, she ran to the bathroom and pulled off the black tent. Absently studying her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t have held back the tears if she’d tried.

  Her husband had kidnapped her. He meant to keep her here in Saudi Arabia with him forever. What’s more, he had plotted out and planned this entire thing with the skill of an undercover spy.

  The tears began to ease up as an alligator’s smile slowly enveloped her face. Were this any man but Hani she would be a lot furious, a little scared and definitely planning an escape route to the U.S. Embassy. But it wasn’t any other man and she couldn’t be any happier to have been caught.

  She remembered words her father had spoken to her before his death. At the time she’d thought him delirious and speaking of himself in the third person à la Napoleon. Now she had to wonder.