Читать книгу Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015 - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 34

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN THE WORLD stopped spinning, Jacqui was flat on her back looking up into jet-dark eyes. They glittered, fiery, as Asim raked her body with a scorching look.

Gasping for breath, her limbs liquid, Jacqui didn’t have the strength to cover herself when he zeroed in on her breasts.

Heaven knew what magic had happened tonight to make a man like Asim want her but she was past caring. She intended to revel in every single second of it. No doubts. No regrets.

A callused palm brushed her nipple and she jolted as a current of fire raced straight to her womb. She frowned. How could that be, after the climax he’d given her?

His hand stroked back and she reached for him, fingers curling around those wide, straight shoulders, revelling in the silky, hot feel of taut skin over bone and muscle.

She tugged him close. ‘I need you.’ The aching emptiness inside cried out for Asim.

He shifted, propping himself over her, and she felt the hard, hot length of his body, unfamiliar and utterly breath-taking. She’d been so dazed she hadn’t noticed him strip his trousers. Heavy muscle and the tickle of masculine hair created a friction that was unbearably wonderful.

‘Please, Asim.’ But he ignored her urgency. Slowly he lowered his head and licked her breast and she gasped, her legs flopping open to cradle him.

‘So lovely,’ he murmured as his gaze collided with hers. ‘I haven’t been able to get them out of my mind since that first night. So pert and ripe.’ He lowered his head again and tugged gently at her breast, sucking her nipple till Jacqui’s head thrust back and her body bowed up into his.

‘And so sensitive.’ His deep voice was smug. Through slitted eyes she saw dark satisfaction on his taut features.

She swallowed hard, a knot in her throat as she realised she’d never felt so close to beautiful in her whole life as she did now.

He cupped one breast and her breath hissed in ecstasy. ‘They’re beautiful. Like ripe, fresh fruit. I love that you don’t need to wear a bra.’ He paused, his brows bunching. ‘Except in front of other men. But when you’re with me you can go braless.’

There it was again, that domineering tone of a man used to giving orders and getting exactly what he wanted. But Jacqui was too stunned to care.

Since puberty she’d been conscious of her lack of curves. She’d never had to fight men off, like some female colleagues, yet here was Asim...

He dipped his head to suckle her breast and fire zapped her. She arched almost off the bed at the feel of his mouth on her. Was it like this every time? She tunnelled her hands in his thick hair, holding him close, and felt something under her ribs melt.

When you’re with me. He made it sound like they’d be together a lot.

He’s being kind, whispered a familiar voice. The cutting voice of her stepmother and the girls at school. But how could she heed it as she watched Asim and felt the magic he wrought? The glory of it drowned everything else. Heat drenched her.

‘Asim.’ She didn’t recognise that rusty voice. ‘I want you.’ She’d never wanted anything so much in her life.

She dragged his head up, making him growl low in his throat as he released her nipple. Their gazes clashed and the febrile shimmer in his might have scared her if she hadn’t already left caution far behind. ‘I need you.’

His fierce expression didn’t ease and Jacqui feared he intended to keep teasing her.

On a surge of desperation she shoved his shoulders, pushing him onto his back, rolling with him till she straddled his hips. The strength beneath her reminded her that she only managed it because he let her, a quizzical gleam in his eyes.

‘You like to be on top?’ His voice rasped gravel across each sensitive spot. She gasped as her over-stimulated senses threatened to explode just at the sight and sound of him and the furnace of heat that was his erection, hard and amazing between her legs.

She gulped as need and trepidation vied for supremacy. She couldn’t bear it if he pulled back now. ‘I just can’t wait.’

Jacqui reached down to find him already sheathed and her pulse raced even harder. He was heavy and thick in her unsteady hand. She fumbled and almost sobbed in desperation, hating her inexperience.

Asim brushed her fingers away. Seconds later firm hands cradled her hips, guiding her as he thrust up in a long, slow surge of power that halted when she gasped. Jacqui couldn’t help it—the feeling of impossible fullness stole her breath.

‘Jacqui?’ Asim’s voice was husky with disbelief. ‘Is this your first time?’

She clutched his shoulders, panic rising. She’d come this far, further than she’d ever been with any man, and she wanted it all, with Asim. All these years wondering and now...

‘Sorry to disappoint.’ She snagged another breath, feeling the tension in her body begin to ease. ‘It’s just been a while.’ If she told him she was a virgin he might stop and she couldn’t bear that.

Still he scrutinised her, his brow pleating, and she sensed his doubt. She licked her dry lips, her whole body trembling, waiting for rejection.

After what seemed an eternity he pulled her gently down, filling her inch by slow inch. She had to fight not to let her eyes bulge at the amazing sensations.

He watched her face like a hawk. His jaw was set, his nostrils flared, but it was the look in Asim’s eyes that made her heart clutch. He held her captive with those eyes and she never wanted to be free.

Tentatively she rocked her hips, feeling the friction and the heavy throb of pleasure. When she did it again strong hands clasped her, helping her find the elusive rhythm.

He urged her high as he withdrew and bucked up, reaching, she was sure, right to the core of her. Lightning shimmered across her vision. Once, twice and she started to shake. A third time and her legs liquefied.

A tumble of movement and she was on her back, pressed deep into the bed, her vision filled by Asim. His eyes holding hers, his lips drawn in a grimace of pained pleasure, he thrust one more time and the world shattered in colour and light and sensation, overwhelming her.

Shuddering at the delicious shockwaves, Jacqui clutched him close as he powered on and, with a roar of triumph, reached his own pulsating climax.

The awesome force of his orgasm deep within and the juddering intensity of his steaming hot body surrounding hers smashed open some unseen barrier. Jacqui felt tenderness and an unprecedented tug of protectiveness.

She cradled Asim tight with the last of her strength. With trembling fingers she stroked his thick hair while he shuddered in her arms, his breath hot in the valley between her neck and shoulder.

Later they lay entwined, her head on his shoulder, his arm draped around her waist, his other hand spread on her thigh, holding her to him.

‘Jacqueline, are you sure you’re all right?’

Jacqui smiled drowsily, a delicious shiver rippling through her at the way he said her name. He made it sound mysterious and feminine, and for the first time in her life somehow...right.

‘All right? I’ve never been better in my life.’ She threaded her fingers through his. ‘Thank you, Asim.’

* * *

Jacqui hurried down the wide corridor, grateful for her flat shoes. If she’d tried to run in the heels she’d worn last night...

She put a brake on her thoughts. Last night was over.

Asim had made that clear when he’d discreetly left her to wake in his bed alone. And she’d been grateful. She had no experience of mornings after and she’d needed time to process everything.

Heat swirled in her belly. Last night had been extraordinary. Magical. She’d felt desired and desirable, sexy and treasured. She’d woken to a sense of well-being that eclipsed grief and doubt. She was grateful to Asim for that gift.

Her gift to him would be proving she had no unrealistic expectations. He needn’t fear she’d read too much into kindness and passing attraction.

For him, that was. For her... Well, it hadn’t passed. The night together had only made her eager for more, despite the slight ache between her legs. She stifled a smile, remembering in glorious detail her unaccustomed exercise.

Jacqui buttoned her jacket and strode faster. She was late. Her visit to the old harem baths had been fascinating and the female historian informative. But, when the woman had learnt Jacqui had never experienced a traditional Jazeeri bath and massage, she’d insisted that be righted immediately. She’d said Jacqui couldn’t write about the process unless she experienced it.

So for the last several hours Jacqui had been bathed, exfoliated, rinsed, covered in herbal concoctions, massaged and scented till she glowed. Every pore felt alive and she was preternaturally aware even of the scrape of cloth over her tingling body.

Or was that the effects of a night of hot sex?

She’d discovered she was a woman with needs, and she’d never been as aware of herself as a sexual being before. She’d never felt so happy in her life.

The shade of Imran rose in her mind and she waited for guilt to slice into her. It was a sign of the change in her that instead it was Imran’s grin she recalled, his laughter. The way he’d always urged her to take chances.

Jacqui shook her head. Whatever her needs, she had to sublimate them. A woman had her pride. Sighing over Asim wasn’t an option. Yet her pulse tripped as she entered the royal offices.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said to Asim’s secretary. ‘I got caught up.’ Her hand rose to the unfamiliar silky camisole peeping above the deep V of her jacket.

She might have been on time but, opening the wardrobe to grab her trusty suit, she discovered a skimpy camisole instead of her serviceable grey top on the next hanger. There’d been a note pinned to it, an apology from Lady Rania, saying an accident in the laundry had damaged her top beyond repair and offering this replacement. As if Jacqui’s ancient cotton top and this fragile garment—spun, she suspected, from gilded spiders’ webs—bore any similarity. Even the shade of it, between old gold and amber, was luscious. And disconcerting to a woman not used to wearing anything that drew attention to herself, like bold colours.

Yet what could she do but accept it and hurry to her appointment?

Now, though, as Asim’s secretary entered the Sultan’s office, Jacqui wondered if she’d done the right thing. Her fingers fluttered over the delicate fabric. Against her skin it felt like a whisper, not clothing. A whisper that teased like the memory of Asim’s breath on her bare skin.

Horrified at the sultry heat unfurling within her, Jacqui turned towards the water cooler, stopping as Asim’s secretary returned.

‘His Highness will see you now.’ He smiled and held the door open and Jacqui had no choice but to enter.

Her mouth turned as arid as the great Jazeeri desert when the door closed and she confronted Asim. He stood by the windows, the glare turning him into a formidably large silhouette, his face in shadow.

Jacqui’s heart hammered a tattoo against her ribs and she sucked in a breath, grateful he was too far away for her to register the spicy scent of his skin. It had lingered in her nostrils all day, a tantalising reminder.

What to say?

She swallowed and tugged her jacket.

Casual. She needed to be casual and calm. As if last night hadn’t blown her self-possession to smithereens then put her back together a different woman.

Jacqui opened her mouth.

‘Take it off.’ Had his voice been so deep last night? It burred through her, stirring the blood in her veins.

She blinked. ‘Sorry?

‘The jacket. It’s an offence to my eyes. Take it off.’

At that tone of command her hand jerked up automatically to the button of her jacket before she realised what she was doing.

‘I beg your pardon?’ She tried to inject her voice with hauteur, but what emerged was a breathless gasp. She’d been prepared for embarrassment and the need to assure Asim she wasn’t some lovesick fool. She hadn’t expected this.

‘So you should. It’s appalling.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Wear it near other men. Never with me.’

Jacqui sucked in air. Again that hint that they’d be alone again and, from the gravelly undercurrent in Asim’s voice, intimate.

She shook her head. She was imagining things. ‘No thank you.’ Best to treat his words as an invitation to be comfortable during their meeting. ‘I prefer to keep it on.’

‘And I prefer never to see it again.’ He paused and when he spoke again his voice was a sultry ribbon of invitation. ‘Take it off for me, Jacqueline. Or should I come across and do it for you?’

His words terrified her. It was one thing to tell herself she could pretend to be aloof and quite another to do it if he came near.

She fumbled the button open then peeled the jacket off, covering the wash of heat across her bare arms and shoulders by taking her time putting it on a chair.

When she turned back she heard a sharp intake of breath.

‘Lovely,’ he murmured in a voice that turned her blood to sweet, heavy syrup. ‘As lovely as I recalled. And you remembered not to wear a bra for me.’ His words scraped to the core of her where her insides seemed to be melting. ‘I approve of the colour too. You should wear it more often.’

Jacqui licked her lips, about to tell him the camisole was a gift from his grandmother, when her brain slipped into gear. He thought she’d gone braless for him? That she’d wanted to please him in the hope that they’d...?

She gulped, shocked. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d done? She’d told herself she was running so late and it wouldn’t matter if she was braless as no one else would know. But she’d known and with every step, as her tight nipples grazed cobweb-soft silk, she’d thought of Asim.

‘Now your hair. Take it down.’

‘No! Anyone could come in.’

‘No one disturbs the Sultan unless invited.’ He spoke with such certainty it hit her anew that he was a man used to having every order obeyed. ‘Now, take it down.’ Dimly she registered surprise as excitement rather than anger rippled through her.

Part of her wanted to comply. The part that had come alive under his touch and the velvet caress of those dark eyes, not to mention that potently deep voice. But this was broad daylight. They were in his office. They couldn’t...

The molten heat between her legs told her they could. That she wanted to.

‘Last night I stripped when you asked me, Jacqui.’

Is that what he wanted? A striptease? Her heart hammered so heavily against her chest she wondered if she’d feel bruised later. A shot of adrenalin, heady as neat alcohol, pulsed into her blood.

Her? Strip for him? Horror merged with excitement to skate down her backbone then burrow through her belly, transforming into butterflies the size of buzzards.

She hated baring her body.

Yet last night he’d made her believe he looked at her skinny frame and saw a different woman to the one she knew.

Fear sliced through her and embarrassment. That pulled her up short.

Did she really want to go back to being the woman she’d been before last night? The woman who hid herself in non-descript work clothes? Even if all she’d experienced with Asim was an illusion, it was an illusion she craved.

Did she dare? Anxiety cramped her stomach.

Her hands went to her ponytail. A few practised flicks and her hair fell in waves around her cheeks and shoulders.

‘Now the trousers.’ His voice was gruff. She couldn’t read his face. Yet even after a single night she recognised the edge in his voice. No matter how he tried to hide it, Asim was as desperate as she. At least she hoped he was.

Praying he was right and no one would dare enter, she snapped open the button on her waistband, lowered the zip and wriggled till the fabric pooled at her feet. She felt shockingly vulnerable yet daring.

Her skin was so sensitised the air on her legs felt heavy. She breathed deep and told herself she wouldn’t regret this. She wouldn’t allow herself to.

‘Now come here.’

Gingerly she stepped out of her trousers, leaving her shoes behind, and padded across the carpet. With each step tension coiled higher, till she stopped before him. Now she read his expression and was glad she hadn’t been able to earlier. He looked so fierce that heat licked inside. His eyes glittered as she imagined those of his warlike ancestors might have when they’d spied a trade caravan loaded with riches entering their realm.

She shivered and rubbed her hands up her arms.

‘You’re cold?’ Still he didn’t touch her. She shook her head and he nodded, a tiny, knowing smile lifting the corner of his mouth. ‘You won’t be for long, Jacqueline. Sit on my desk.’

She followed his glance to the antique desk, bare except for a sleek computer and a single tray of papers.

Arousal shuddered through her as she pictured making love on that gleaming surface. It would be hard, fast and satisfying. She wanted him so badly she almost obeyed without a word of protest. She, who’d never been intimate with a man before last night!

‘You’re sure no one will come in?’ Excitement and dread warred.

‘Be assured, Jacqueline. We won’t be disturbed. My secretary has left and locked the outer office on the way out.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You told him to? But he’ll know we’re...’ She shook her head as words failed her.

A small voice inside jeered that, standing almost naked, she’d left it late to have second thoughts.

‘Fahid is utterly discreet. You have nothing to worry about.’ Asim stepped closer and at once the vast study shrank. She felt crowded, excited and aroused, yet at the same time annoyed.

This was utterly unfamiliar territory. Last night had turned her inside out, made her question long-held certainties and put her trust in a man she barely knew. Even so it had felt right.

Now, abruptly, standing half-dressed while he calmly gave orders, unease spiked. If only Asim had come to her, embraced her, done something other than bark instructions. Tension crawled along her shoulders. Indignation rose. She might be desperate but she had some self-respect.

‘Do you make a habit of seducing women on your desk?’ The words shot out and she raised her chin, battling to hide churning distress.

She didn’t expect declarations of undying devotion but she wasn’t some convenience, available to satisfy a passing itch.

Nevertheless, she had to fight her needy body that swayed towards him as if seeking a caress from its master.

He strode forward till they almost touched. His brilliant gaze raked her; the subtle scent of his skin filled her nostrils, weakening her knees. He radiated heat that hazed her skin.

‘I have never seduced a woman here.’ He paused and Jacqui was surprised to see him swallow. ‘My desk has been used for nothing but paperwork.’ His eyes narrowed to glittering darts that scraped her skin. His voice was steely. ‘I spend my days and many of my nights here working, not dallying with women. As for Fahid guessing...’ Asim’s shoulders rose in a shrug. ‘It seemed preferable to have privacy rather than run the risk of interruption.’

‘Because you were so sure I’d give you what you want.’ And he’d been right. Jacqui had bared herself to camisole and panties, desperate for his touch. Were her doubts just delaying tactics so she didn’t have to acknowledge she was putty in his hands? Her stomach cramped.

‘What we both want. Don’t deny it, Jacqueline. I see the flush of arousal on your perfect skin. Your pulse races and your beautiful breasts are rising fast because your breathing is too shallow.’

He was right. Her body betrayed her. She wanted him.

Yet she needed more, proof this meant something to him too. That they were equals in this.

Doubt lingered. Why had Asim made love to her? Had he been motivated by pity and mere convenience? Last night she hadn’t thought so but today he seemed so cold and uninvolved. It was hard to shake a lifetime of self-doubt.

‘Then why haven’t you touched me?’ Despite her intentions it sounded like a plea.

He shook his head, his face grim. ‘Once I touch you, Jacqueline, there’ll be no holding back, no time for finesse. I’ve spent the whole day waiting for you, and I’m not a patient man.’

Startled, Jacqui gazed up at that strongly sculpted face and felt heat squiggle through her. Now she saw more than his piercing gaze. A pulse throbbed at his temple. His squared jaw was set and the tendons visible in his neck spoke of tension. Tension she’d put there? Heady relief and pleasure filled her.

His big hands flexed as if resisting the urge to reach for her. The movement drew attention to the bulge in his trousers she hadn’t noticed earlier.

Remembering the heavy, delicious weight of him, the softness of satin over forged steel, her inner muscles contracted. His body fascinated her but last night, though they’d shared more intimacies than she’d ever experienced, he’d been the one exploring her body. She’d had no chance to satisfy her curiosity.

‘Sit on the desk, Jacqueline.’ His voice was harsh but she caught an edge of desperation. ‘I promise you’ll enjoy it.’

‘No.’

‘No?’ Asim’s head reared back, his eyes rounding. He’d been so sure of her. And not used to anyone denying him what he wanted. ‘What do you mean, no?’ It was a roar of outrage.

Jacqui licked dry lips as excitement and trepidation warred. She made herself meet his eyes.

We’re equals, she told herself. He might be lord of all he surveys but she wasn’t his subject. Besides, something had changed after last night—the way he’d confronted her hang-ups and shown her they meant nothing to him. Her body hummed with arousal and a woman’s curiosity.

‘No, I don’t want you to take me on your desk. Not yet.’ For now she said it aloud she was shocked at how appealing it sounded.

‘Then what do you want?’ His brow furrowed in a scowl.

For a moment longer she hesitated, but her body, primed by a day of physical pampering and now by proximity to Asim, had no doubts.

She dropped to her knees and heard his hiss of indrawn breath. Reaching out, she flicked open the button at the top of this trousers and tugged the zip.

‘This,’ she said, reaching for him.