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The four continued to look at him. Malik might think he was okay, only he looked anything but. Right now, their youngest brother looked no different from a beast about to go on a rampage.
“I’ve been thinking,” Malik muttered. “What do you think of attending Kyrillos Gazis’ weekend cruise?”
It was midnight by the time the royal helicopters carrying the five sheikhs landed on the yacht’s helipad, and as soon as they descended, several long-legged beauties in uniform moved forward to welcome them with sexy smiles and non-alcoholic cocktails. That the staff knew better than to offer the sheikhs liquor was testament to their employer’s exacting standards on hospitality, and even Rayyan was grudgingly impressed. “Smart move.” As the kingdom’s future head of finance, he had to acknowledge the subtle excellence of their host’s marketing strategy. With just a simple act of service, the Greek billionaire had let his young guests know that he was the man to consider when it came to business ventures in the recreational industry.
“Careful, brother,” Tarif said with a smirk as they went to join the other guests in the yacht’s upper deck. “The euros in your eyes are starting to shine.”
His cousin only shrugged. “Fucking bimbos can only keep me entertained for so long.” Making money was his favorite pastime, and he saw no shame in it. “Besides—-” His knowing gaze slid to their youngest cousin. “I’m determined to make the most out of this emergency trip.”
Malik frowned when he saw that the other sheikhs were looking at him. “What?”
“Feeling better now?” Altair asked politely.
He started to ask what the hell Altair meant when he saw their cousins turn to him again, their expressions guarded, and in a flash, he realized that they had all seen through him. No wonder they had been so quick to accept his invitation to attend Kyrillos Gazis’ party.
As they had willingly flown out of Ramil to keep him company, Malik knew he owed them the truth at the very least. Shaking his head, he heard himself say flatly, “No.” His lips twisted. “I don’t feelbetter.I still feel fucked, and it’s been so long that I can no longer remember what normal feels like.”
A pained expression crossed Tarif’s face. “That bad, eh?” He tried imagining himself in Malik’s shoes. How would it feel if the young girl he had forbidden feelings for were about to go to prom with another boy? He supposed he would want to smash his fist into the boy’s face—-
Tarif glanced at his cousin, and the harsh lines of ill-suppressed violence outlining Malik’s face told him that was exactly what the other sheikh was feeling.And probably more than that, too, Tarif thought, discomfited. The truth was, the word ‘love’ had no meaning for him beyond the filial sense. He could try to imagine how Malik was feeling, but he knew no matter what his imagination was able to conjure—-
It would be nothing like whatever Malik was feeling and had been struggling with for years.
“Why don’t you just marry her?” he asked finally. “In the eyes of our law, sixteen is of marriageable age as long as you have the parents’ consent—-”
“Even if my own mother were to agree,” Malik said flatly, “I wouldn’t want to do that to her.”
“Eighteen then?” Khalil suggested pragmatically.
Malik shook his head. “She’d still be too young—-”
“She’ll always be too young, Malik,” Rayyan pointed out. “You’re ten years older. No matter how much time passes, that will never change.”
“I just can’t do that to her,” Malik gritted out under his breath. “Okay?” His dark gaze swung to his brother. “You at least understand that, don’t you?”
“I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” Altair loathed seeing his younger brother suffer, but since Kyria was also his sister, he couldn’t help agreeing with what Malik was saying. Eighteenwasstill too young, but...how much waiting should Malik condemn himself to?
Looking at Malik, he said with a shake of his head, “You’ve always had a knack for making trouble, but this...” Sardonic humor flashed in Altair’s eyes. “I have to hand it to you, Malik. You could have any girl in the world throw herself at your feet, and yet you just had to pick the one girl you can’t have.”
Malik raised his glass in a mock toast, saying, “And since the five of us are supposedly bound by the same fate, may all of us want the girl we can never have.”
Everyone sputtered and cursed as they realized what they were toasting to, none of them taking it lightly since therewasa Ramilian myth about a king and his four vassals that revolved around the five men sharing the same fate.
Three years ago
It was no longer an uncommon sight for the palace to see Malik dressed for riding at dawn and spending almost the entire day in the stables. Since his return to the kingdom, he had successfully made a name for himself as a horse breeder. Fans all over the world still clamored for his comeback in racing, but as far as the sheikh was concerned that part of his life was over and done with. He would have stuck with it only if it had been capable of making him forget, but it had not. Nothing could. He had long accepted this – and had since found a different way to fuck things up.
“A visitor for you, Sheikh.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled his gloves off, and the guards bowed before retreating. Left behind was a petite brunette, and as soon as the door to his office closed her lips curved in a provocative smile. “You had a need for me, Your Highness?”
Malik threw his gloves away, and when he turned to face her again, Iris had already settled herself on top of a steel cabinet, back against the post, and legs wide open. As he strode towards her, she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it all the way up to her waist. The action bared her legs and lack of her underwear, her quivering pussy already glistening with need.
He unzipped himself, and Iris let out a moan of satisfaction as he thrust inside of her without a word, his already engorged cock sinking hard into her moist depths. Her arms looped over around his neck as the sheikh began to fuck her, harder than any man had, and her head fell back. “Yes.” Her eyes closed, her nails raking his back. “Ye—-”
His mouth covered hers, and she kissed him with such undisguised hunger that he almost felt guilty.
Almost.
