"You brute!" Ember crashed into his chest, and the sheikh wasted no time in possessing her mouth with a kiss.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Ilyas couldn't believe how sweet and hot his secretary fucking tasted, and the way she was beating his chest while whimpering at his kiss only made him want her even more. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, and he did so again and again and again until he heard her gasp.
He lifted his head reluctantly, and Ember took in huge gulps of air even as she shot him a look of vile hatred. "You—-"
Ilyas cut her off mid-speech by gently plucking one nipple.
"Stop it!"
She tried shoving him away, but it only made him retaliate by yanking his bowtie off his neck and using it to tie her wrists behind her back.
"Let me go!"
"Stop acting like you hate this—-"
"I do! I do hate it!"
But the sheikh easily proved her wrong, with the way her body arched up the moment he started rubbing her nipple between his fingers.
"Stop it!"
Ilyas' touch turned rough, but this only made her lovely pink bud tighten in arousal. "Your body says you're lying," the sheikh crooned.
"Fuck you—-"
"Soon," Ilyas whispered. "I'm going to fuck you. It's a promise."
"Shut up!"
"But for now..."
Ilyas used his free hand to force her legs open...and just as her pussy was about to be bared to his sight—-
Meow.
Was that a fucking kitten?
"The kitty," Ember gasped.
Ilyas glanced over his shoulder...and that was when he woke up.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
Ilyas stared down at his naked body in frustration. His head hurt like shit, his balls ached like hell, and his throbbing cock felt like it had been fucking hard for hours.
He had never had a wet dream in his entire fucking life, so why the hell did the first one have to be of his nerdy and troublesome secretary?
His head started to pound as he got out of bed, and Ilyas cursed under his breath.
This was precisely why he was always so careful about not drinking past his limit. His hangovers were always the fucking worst, and it often messed up with his memories...like now.
A frown creased his forehead as he skimmed his surroundings with an impatient gaze. Apparently, he had gone straight here in the office from the party...and crashed in the spare bedroom across Ember's. While he couldn't remember why he had come here in the first place, but, a fleeting memory of a kitten clawing his hand flashed in his mind, and Ilyas swiftly reached for his pants.
C'mon kitten, show yourself.
He nearly turned the whole place upside down looking for the furry little thing, but it was as if he had only imagined it.
And maybe he had?
If the kitten was only a dream, Ilyas reasoned broodingly to himself, then everything else had to be a dream as well.
Ilyas headed back to the hotel feeling strangely restless while doing his best to ignore the pounding in his head. A hot shower did little to ease his hangover, and Ilyas was forced to order room service for lunch.
Another hour passed, and Ilyas started to seethe.
Where the fuck was his secretary?
Ember had just stepped out of the dean's office when her phone started to vibrate inside of her pocket.
Ilyas.
She answered the call but failed to get a single word out with the sheikh already roaring into her ear.
"Where the hell are you?"
Ember had to give her head a little shake to get rid of the ringing between her ears. "I'm with Prue. Sheikh Khadem asked me—-"
"Why the hell do you keep doing things that aren't part of your fucking job description?"
Ember stared at her phone with mixed feelings. Was this really what he wanted to talk about?
"Or has something changed," Ilyas snarled, "and I'm the only one who doesn't know you've suddenly gotten yourself on the entire royal family's payroll?"
Ember took a deep breath and decided to just play along for now. It wasn't the sheikh's style to pretend something like last night didn't happen. He must've had a good reason for doing so, and she was determined to find out once they were talking face to face.
In the meantime—-
"Good afternoon to you, too, Your Highness."
No, dammit, Ilyas wanted to snarl back. How could this afternoon be good when he had dreamed about playing with his secretary's nipples?
"Just find me as soon as you get back," Ilyas said tersely before hanging up. He really hadn't any work for Ember to do. All he knew was that he had this fucking need to see her, and as to what could happen after that, only time would be able to fucking tell.
Ember tried to make sense of the sheikh's actions on the ride back to the hotel. It really wasn't like Ilyas to sweep things under the rug like this. Could he have forgotten everything about last night because he had been drunk the entire time? Or was he only pretending not to remember anything because now that he wasn't drunk, Ilyas had realized he didn't really want to have anything to do with her?