Читать книгу Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation - Annie West - Страница 12

TORI HEARD THE words spill out and then Ash’s swift intake of breath. But she refused to play coy. Not when this might be her last night alive.

All afternoon she’d fought not to imagine what awaited her at the mercy of her kidnappers. Pain. Forced sex. Slavery.

A few hours ago she’d have said experiencing desire in her current situation was impossible. But that was before Ash. Before they worked together. Before his matter-of-fact courage bolstered her own flagging determination to be strong. Before the touch of his hand and his understanding made her feel connected to him. Before the undeniable flare of arousal ignited in her belly and saturated her skin till she burned up with it.

She knew their excruciatingly intense circumstances created the connection. Yet it wasn’t quite so simple. There was something about this man that spoke to her at a primal, instinctive level. Tori knew with a resolute certainty that defied explanation that this was more than a simple response to danger.

She’d never known such a potent link. As if they’d weathered a lifetime’s emotions in a couple of hours.

Never felt such an urgent need for a man.

Never felt so reckless or so absolutely sure of what she wanted.

‘Tori?’

His voice was deep and gravelly, his smooth tone banished by shock. Or, she hoped, by matching desire.

She moved her hand tentatively across his flat abdomen, resisting the urge to slip it lower and explore him more intimately. Iron-hard muscles clenched at her touch and a tremor racked his big body.

Tori’s heart clenched in sympathy. He was so vibrantly, emphatically alive. She couldn’t bear the thought that tomorrow—

Long fingers brushed the hair back from her face, the gesture achingly tender. Then, to her horror, he stroked his thumb across her cheek and smeared the hot track of a tear she hadn’t even felt fall.

‘Ah, habibti.’

She heard the clink of metal as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him. Soft words fell into her ears as his lips moved against her eyelids, cheeks and hair. The ribbon of words was lilting and beautiful, like the unexpected sound of a spring, bubbling up clear and life-giving in a desert.

Greedily Tori drank in the sound as she absorbed his tender caresses. Blindly she tilted her head, seeking his lips, letting her leg fall across his thighs as she sought purchase to climb up his tall body.

‘You have my word, Tori. If there’s a way to save—’

Opening her eyes, she pressed her hand to his lips. ‘Don’t.’

She breathed deep, feeling her breasts push against him. Was she too heavy? But when she made to pull back the warm steel of his embrace held her.

‘Don’t talk about tomorrow. Please. I only want to think about tonight.’

She was so close that even in the gloom she saw the shift of muscles as he clenched his jaw. His face was strongly made, with bold lines against which the sensuous curve of his lips seemed shockingly desirable. Through the blood and dust she thought she imagined laughter lines near his eyes, but the grooves around his mouth spoke of weighty concerns.

The man’s injured. He’s likely to die tomorrow. Despite that, he’s done his best to stop you falling apart. Of course he has more on his mind than gratifying your selfish desires.

Tori’s heart contracted. He might be aroused, but that was a simple physical response to proximity and, perhaps, to danger. It didn’t mean he wanted her. Perhaps he had a woman. A wife, even.

Choking back an exclamation of self-loathing, she pulled back, determined to put distance between them.

But his arms stopped her. She wriggled, trying to escape, but couldn’t find purchase to resist his strength—not without elbowing his injured side.

‘Let me go,’ she whispered. ‘I need to—’

‘I know what you need, habibti. I need it too. So very badly.’

His voice ground low through her body, awakening those few dormant female nerve centres not already attuned to his closeness.

Tori felt herself quicken and soften, warmth spreading in a wave of anticipation for his big, hard body. Her legs splayed around his, her pelvis pressed needily against his hipbone.

Flame scorched her cheeks as one large hand slid down to cup her bottom and pull her closer. Thoughts splintered at the dazzle of carnal pleasure erupting through her.

‘I...’

She fought to find a coherent chain of thought when her body was already immersed in an intimate conversation with his. What did she want to say? The important thing?

He tilted her chin so she looked into hooded eyes. ‘Talk to me, Tori. Are you certain you want this?’

She wanted it, him, so badly she shook with the force of her desire.

‘Are you married?’ The words sounded strange, in a breathless voice she hardly recognised, but now the thought had entered her head she couldn’t ignore it. ‘Is there anyone—?’

‘No one.’ His tone was grave. ‘And you?’

Tori shook her head.

She felt his chest rise beneath her on a sighing breath.

Even so, what had seemed so natural, so easy, moments before, now felt difficult. She felt gauche, unsure how to proceed. Till his mouth curved slowly into a smile that stole her breath and set her heart fluttering up in her throat.

She’d had an impression of Ash as strong, ultra-masculine and handsome in a severe way. But when he bestowed that smile on her Tori discovered he was far, far more. Attractive didn’t cover it. Sexy was closer. Her befuddled brain grappled for a second to find a word that did him justice. Then she gave up and simply felt.

His hand rose to the back of her head, pulling her closer. She went eagerly, sinking into a kiss that was devastating for all its gentle persuasiveness. Fire sizzled and sparked from her toes to her ears. From her lips to her breasts and her womb.

Her mouth softened on his, opening automatically around his tongue. She didn’t even try to prevent the mew of delight as he delved deeper, inviting her to let go on the wave of wellbeing that swept her up.

The kiss went on and on, deliberate and slow, stoking the blaze between them. Till his hand cupped her breast and Tori seized up. Not in rejection, but because the sensation of that hard hand so gentle on her was exquisite.

She pulled her head back, sucking in a dizzying draught of air, meeting eyes that gleamed like obsidian in the shadowy light.

His hand froze. Clearly he’d misinterpreted her withdrawal.

Once more Tori felt a surge of respect for this man who even now let scruples override potent need.

In another place, another time, she’d want to discover everything she could about him. But they had so little time. The thought brought a desperate sob to her throat. She swallowed it and pressed his hand to her breast, revelling in the delicious sensations.

She leaned down so her lips grazed his ear. ‘I want you, Ash. But I’m afraid of hurting you.’ He’d stopped bleeding, but she didn’t want to reopen his wounds.

She felt a rumbling beneath her that, remarkably, she identified as laughter. ‘Let me worry about that.’

While she was still catching her breath he rolled her onto her back, only to freeze mid-movement. It took her a second to realise his arm was stretched out behind him, caught by the chain.

The reminder of their dire circumstances should have splintered the brief comfort of the moment. Except Ash sounded merely rueful as he murmured, ‘Not my smoothest move.’

His humour made this once more about them, not what lay beyond these walls, and Tori bit down a smile as together they shuffled awkwardly across the floor till Ash had the freedom to move both arms.

‘Better,’ he whispered, gathering her close. ‘Much better.’

Broad shoulders blocked out the moonlight as he bent and kissed her hard on the lips. Then, as everything in her clamoured for more, he pulled back, propping himself on his good arm as he fumbled for the zip of her trousers.

‘Let me. It will be quicker.’ Excitement fizzed in her blood.

When he moved back to deal with his own trousers Tori stripped off her boots, trousers and knickers. She’d never had a one-night stand but she felt no embarrassment, just an urgency that grew with every passing moment.

‘Leave your shirt.’ Ash’s hand on her shoulder pushed her gently down onto her back. ‘It will protect you from the floor.’

His own shirt hung open to reveal a wide expanse of muscled chest. Her hungry gaze began to rove him, only to stop at the dark line across a couple of ribs. Her stomach clenched.

Suddenly it wasn’t sex on her mind but the fate that awaited Ash tomorrow. The thought of what they’d do to him and what they might do to her—

‘Changed your mind?’

His voice held no inflection other than curiosity—as if he had no qualms about stopping. Yet even in the gloom there was no mistaking the tension in his tall frame or the sight of his arousal straining towards her.

He wanted this, needed it, as much as she.

The sight of him made her wet between the legs, her muscles tightening in anticipation. Tori drew a shuddery breath, shoving away all thoughts of tomorrow.

Live for the moment had never held such profound meaning.

‘Wouldn’t it be safer if I was on top? With your injuries?’

His chuckle was liquid chocolate, or perhaps a shot of malt whisky, heating her blood. ‘Probably. Call me a traditionalist, but I want to lie between your beautiful thighs and take us both to Paradise.’

His words ratcheted her level of arousal from fierce to ballistic. As did the nimble way he flicked open her shirt buttons, then made short work of her front-opening bra, pulling it wide to survey her in silence.

Tori’s heart battered her ribs as she felt the cold night air drift across her puckering nipples and waited for his next move. Then he smiled. Another of those charismatic smiles that drove a spike of sharp emotion straight through her rib cage and stopped her breath.

When he spoke again it was in a language she didn’t understand. A fluid ripple of sound that wrapped itself around her, caressing her as effectively as those callused hands stroking her breasts, waist and hips. Drawing her into a world of seductive urgency.

Then Ash lowered himself over her and she almost cried out at how right it felt. Strong, hair-roughened thighs between hers. The weight of him heavy against her. The jut of his hipbones. Broad shoulders above her and heat...heat everywhere.

Tori drew her knees up above his hips and heard a grunt of masculine pleasure. Then long fingers slid low, past her abdomen, down to her hot, slick, swollen centre. She jolted as a shock of pleasure raced through her. His fingers moved again, circling and teasing.

Her hand on his wrist stopped him. ‘No. Don’t. I just want you.’

She was strung so tight, on an unbearable edge of arousal, that she feared one more touch might fling her into rapture. But she needed something more profound than the touch of his hand. She craved the ultimate connection, the intimacy of their two bodies linked as one.

Tori sighed her relief when he nodded. Even so Ash took his time, surveying her face as if memorising it. Tori felt his gaze cross her cheeks, lips and forehead. And when his hand brushed the hair back from her face it was a gesture that spoke of tenderness and restraint, for she felt the tiniest tremor in those long fingers.

‘Your hair is like silk,’ he murmured.

Tori wanted to say something profound, to offer this strong, gentle man something to match the gift of his tenderness. But there were no easy words.

Instead she lifted her own hand, cupping the stubble-roughened jaw, hard and warm. She felt his slow pounding pulse, then skimmed her hand higher into dark hair that felt thick yet soft. His eyes closed as she massaged the uninjured side of his scalp.

He positioned himself against her. Instinctively she lifted her pelvis, feeling that velvet weight nudge her. Tori held her breath as he pushed, long and slow and further, surely, than any previous possession. Her eyes widened and his grew more heavy-lidded as they held their breaths at the perfection of their joining. The moment went on and on till finally Ash was lodged deep within, vital and impossibly, lavishly male.

A quiver ran through Tori, starting at the muscles surrounding him and spreading till she trembled all over. A matching shiver rippled across his wide shoulders and muscled arms.

Then he withdrew, and the movement was so exquisitely arousing that Tori had to bite her lip to stop from crying out. Ash’s lips pulled back in a grimace that looked like pain, but she knew it was a sign of pleasure and his battle for control.

The sight of him fighting for restraint and the generous pleasure of his returning thrust sent Tori spiralling over the edge.

‘Please.’ Her hands dug into his shoulders as she struggled to keep her voice to a whisper. ‘I need you now.’

Ash’s mouth covered hers, blotting out the scream rising within. Strong arms held her close as he abandoned restraint and pounded fast, hard and satisfying, filling her so that it seemed there was no longer Tori and Ash but only one being, straining after pleasure. Rapture exploded in a shuddering conflagration so powerful that the very air vibrated with it.

Together they rocked and shuddered. She was overwhelmed by sensations so intense they defied description. Except that at their heart was a delight so profound Tori half expected to die from it.

The world shook. Senses swam. Blood roared in her ears loud as a helicopter coming in to land. And through it all they stayed locked together, mouths and bodies fused.

Finally, when sanity began to creep back in, Ash rolled onto his side and then his back, taking Tori with him. Aftershocks ripped through her as overloaded pleasure receptors reacted again and again.

A rough gasp of pain reminded her of Ash’s wounds. Instantly she tried to shift from his grasp. He didn’t need her weight on his injuries.

‘Stay.’ His voice was hoarse, a rough wisp of sound that Tori found it impossible to resist.

She kissed him open-mouthed in the hot, male-scented curve where his shoulder met his neck. He shivered, hauling her closer.

Never had Tori felt this profound oneness. It was shared physical pleasure but surely something more. Something inexplicable that had swept them up and cradled them together.

Tori gave in to the protective urge to spread her arms as wide as she could around his brawny shoulders. She rested her head on his chest, absorbing the reassuring heavy thud of his heartbeat. She’d wait till she caught her breath. Then she’d try to define the change she sensed with every cell yet couldn’t name.

It was her last cogent thought for hours.

* * *

‘Tori.’

The luscious deep voice was warm and seductive in her ear. Ash’s hands moved over her body and she stretched sinuously, arching to meet them.

She frowned, for he wasn’t caressing her, he was—

‘It’s time to wake up.’ His hands were deftly doing up her shirt buttons, right to the collar.

‘Ash?’ She opened her eyes to discover pale light filtering through the small windows.

He was dressed, she realised, his torn shirt buttoned and tucked into dusty trousers. Then she recalled him insisting in the night that they dress again. For warmth, he’d said.

Now she felt a chill that was only partly due to the temperature. Grey dawn light revealed a clearer view of Ash than she’d had so far. His features were starkly sculpted and compelling. His face would turn any woman’s head. But now she saw clearly the blood caked in his hair. His torn clothes were liberally marked with dark stains and the chain securing him looked brutally heavy.

Tori’s stomach turned as dread reality hit her full-force. Nausea rose. Her pulse accelerated to a panicky rhythm. Impossibly, in Ash’s arms the peril they were in had been pushed to the back of her mind. Now realisation slammed into her.

She clutched his hands and he paused. His eyes met hers and something passed between them. Then Ash took hold of her hands. In this light she still couldn’t make out the colour of his eyes, yet the warmth she read in them counteracted the chill crackling across her bones.

Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he raised her left hand and kissed her palm, his warm lips soft on her flesh. He repeated the gesture with her other hand, sending a squiggle of heat from her palms to her breasts and lower, arrowing to her core.

He murmured something against her palm that she couldn’t catch. But his eyes as they met hers glowed with a message that made her chest clamp.

‘Thank you, habibti.’ He inclined his head, sketching a quick, graceful movement with his hand that spoke of respect and admiration. ‘You did me great honour last night. Your gift is one I’ll carry with me.’

Tori was about to respond when Ash’s expression changed. His head whipped towards the door, his features intent, as if he heard something she couldn’t.

‘Quickly.’ He grabbed her boots and shoved her feet into them.

‘What is it?’

But she guessed the cause of his urgency. Someone was coming.

The thought of their captors made her fingers shake, and she watched Ash push her hands aside to do up the laces with swift efficiency.

‘Remember what I said.’ His voice was urgent and low. ‘Don’t fight back till you’re alone with one of them. You’ll stand a better chance.’

Tori looked into that stern, handsome face and nodded. She swallowed hard. ‘You—?’

‘I’ll be fine. Now the sun’s rising the search party will find it easier to locate the camp.’

Neither admitted that the search party might be too late for him.

His hands tightened on hers as they heard voices outside. Leaning in, he whispered, ‘When you escape—’ when, not if... Tori’s heart leapt with hope ‘—keep low and—’

His words were cut off by the door banging open to rattle against the wall. Tori blinked against the light, realising belatedly that Ash no longer held her hands but was on his feet, facing the three men who had entered.

What came next was the stuff of nightmares. Brutal, pawing hands and leering faces. A slap that made her head ring as she struggled to free herself. But far worse was the sight of Ash, pulling one of the men off her and then being set upon by two of them. Hampered by the chain, he was eventually overwhelmed by vicious blows to his injured head and ribs.

The last she saw of him he’d crumpled to his knees and then pitched sideways, a scarlet bloom spilling from his wounds across the dirt floor.

The rusty tang of fresh blood was sharp in Tori’s nostrils as she was shoved, stumbling, into the chill morning.