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Running her small hands appreciatively over his shoulders, she commented, ‘I think you can take it.’
Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped it on a chair. Lucy was already pulling at her dress. He helped her. In just a bra and thong, she was the Venus de Milo made flesh, unbelievably beautiful and lush—and wild with impatience. Yanking at the buttons on his shirt, she managed to pull a couple off. As they flew across the floor, he freed his sapphire cufflinks and put them safely out of reach. They didn’t lose eye contact for a second while all this was going on, and by the time he’d kicked off his shoes, she was working on his belt. Snapping it out of its loops, she gave a sound of triumph and fell back.
‘Hussy,’ he accused as she greedily sucked in air.
‘You bet,’ she said. ‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.’
‘From the first moment you saw me in the café?’
She laughed. ‘Something like that.’
‘Still, savour the moment—make it last...’
‘Not a chance,’ she assured him.
He sucked in air between his teeth as she boldly brushed her hand over his body. Her hand was tiny and he was big. Lucy wasn’t the only one being seduced here.
‘You’re loving this,’ she gasped, her pupils huge and black with excitement. ‘The chase, I mean. Have I spoiled it for you, by becoming the aggressor?’
‘Not at all—and that might change soon,’ he warned.
She shrugged, but for a moment he thought she seemed uncertain. He loved sex, and did nothing to stop her as she explored him with exquisite skill. Sex had never been so much fun before, he thought as she slipped her hand into his boxers. It was just a hunger like anything else, to be satisfied on demand. With Lucy, sex had become an open-ended possibility. Her lack of experience was no deterrent to enthusiasm. When she stared into his eyes, there was fire in the depth of the black, as if she was claiming her mate.
‘Do you trust me?’ she demanded.
In the moment it took to answer, he hooked a thumb into the neck of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head.
‘Trust works both ways,’ she insisted, stilling as she stared at him, waiting for his answer.
‘Trust has to be earned,’ he countered as he tossed his shirt aside.
The most plausible liars could arrive in the most pleasing of packages, he had discovered in his youth. Lucy had gone some way to wipe out his recollection of an older woman who had found it all too easy to convince a gullible young prince, whose brain had been firmly lodged below his belt at the time, that fate intended them to be together. To help fate along, a loan from Tadj would really help her to build her business, she’d said. The jewels she’d plundered from the Emir’s palace were to form part of an important exhibition, she had explained in court, after walking out on him in the middle of the night. His heart had turned to stone when her duplicity had been uncovered, and he had focused his mind solely on Qalala, vowing never to be duped again. So yes, trust was an issue for him. It was as vital as the air he breathed, and he was always waiting to be disappointed. But he’d put all that aside for this one night.
‘When you surrender to pleasure there are no barriers left,’ he told Lucy as she undressed him.
‘And none required,’ she promised as her nimble fingers flew over his remaining clothes.
Placing her hands palms flat against Tadj’s chest, Lucy indicated that she would set the pace. He could have thrown her back and done anything he wanted, but that was what she meant by trust. One night to remember for all the right reasons, she thought, though her inner self warned that one night wouldn’t be nearly enough. It would have to be, she thought.
Beneath Tadj’s control, she sensed a fire raging. She had never felt like this...so excited and lustful, which was hardly surprising when he stood before her naked and magnificent, like a bronze cast by Michelangelo. Fear of sex with such a big man had quickly been replaced by a hunger to know him inside her. Tadj would put her needs first, of that she was sure. He was such a compelling presence, he had pushed all the horrors she’d witnessed at home behind her with no effort at all. If he hadn’t been the Emir of Qalala, and she no one in particular, she could easily have fallen in love with him.
‘My turn now,’ he said.
There’d be no argument there, she thought as he deftly removed her bra, maintaining eye contact while he did so.
‘Good?’ he murmured, surely knowing that everything he did was so much better than good.
Lucy couldn’t help her shiver of delight. Burying her face in Tadj’s hard, warm chest, she listened to the steady beat of his heart. It calmed her, and seemed to promise that whatever happened next, she would know pleasure as never before. Stretching out his length alongside her, he proved to be even bigger than she’d imagined. Against him, she was like a slender twig with breasts—breasts he seemed to admire—and she gasped with pleasure when he gave them his attention. She craved him, ached for him, and only one thing could ease that, but Tadj appeared to be in no hurry to relieve her frustration. Moving down the bed, he began by massaging her feet and kissing them. Sensation overload, she thought as the pleasure transferred to her core. Turning her, he dropped kisses on the back of her knees. More sensation...more gasping for sufficient breath—she’d had no idea she was so sensitive.
She was naked apart from her tiny lace thong, and shivering with arousal in his arms. Writhing against the sheets, she craved firmer contact and yearned for release. Tadj answered this with firm-handed strokes down the length of her back, as if he were taming a spirited pony. Shaking uncontrollably, she finally settled again, and had to wait to see what he’d do next.
‘You’re very sensitive,’ he commented, as if this pleased him.
She could do no more than hum contentedly, though she cried out with excitement when Tadj transferred his skill to her thighs. Almost without knowing she was doing so, she parted her legs in a blatant invitation for him to explore. She had never ached with need like this before, and was almost begging by the time he allowed his fingertips to brush against her. Grabbing a pillow, she clutched it to her chest as if that could imbue her with the strength to wait.
‘Turn onto your back,’ he instructed.
His tone aroused her beyond bearing, and she hurried to do as he said.
Scraping his stubble across the very sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, he made her cry out with need. If this was being instructed in the art of pleasure, she was the most willing student there could ever be.
Resting her legs over his shoulders, Tadj concentrated his attention on that area that had waited so patiently, while she moaned softly and rhythmically as he attended to her needs with his tongue.
‘Now,’ he prompted in a low, yet commanding tone, and, lifting his head, he watched her reaction as he replaced the touch of his tongue with his hand.
She couldn’t hold on—impossible. The thought that she was exposing herself, body and soul, flashed briefly across her mind, but carnal hunger had soon extinguished the last of her doubts, and she fell greedily, screaming repeatedly with pleasure as the most powerful release took her over.
‘Good,’ Tadj praised, soothing her with kisses as he slowly brought her down.
Good didn’t even begin to describe what she had experienced. Clinging to him, she silently begged for more...and not so silently, which made him laugh, just a low chuckle down deep in his chest, but it was
the feeling of closeness she valued most of all. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that this must end. Tadj was so right for her in every way. There was only one thing wrong with that thought, which was that reality had to intrude at some point.
‘Beautiful,’ he whispered, pulling back.
She wasn’t beautiful, but he made her feel beautiful. Somehow, her hang-ups deserted her with Tadj. Which was strange when the contrast between them was so stark. He was beautiful. Built like a gladiator, swarthy and tanned, he was tough, yet careful with her, and exceptionally easy on the eye. No other man could compare, which almost certainly meant she’d never have another lover. Fate was a cruel mistress. Tadj was the Emir of Qalala and out of reach, but that couldn’t stop them enjoying each other’s bodies.
‘What’s amusing you now?’ he asked with one of his dark smiles.
‘Just one of my fantasies,’ she admitted.
‘Forget fantasies,’ he advised, moving over her. ‘Reality is much more fun. And don’t tense up when there’s no need.’
Was he joking? It would take both her hands to encompass him, and then only just.
‘I won’t hurt you,’ he promised. ‘Greedy must wait,’ he warned, teasing her with kisses as she thrashed her head about on the pillows.
‘But not for long,’ she argued fiercely.
Finding her needy place, he gave it his close attention, which brought her to the edge in moments. But just as she was about to tip over into pleasure, he withdrew his coaxing hand, leaving her panting and unsatisfied.
‘Part your legs wider,’ he commanded softly. ‘That’s better,’ he approved. ‘Now...’ Reaching for a pillow, he slipped it beneath her buttocks, raising her even higher for his attention. She was completely exposed, completely vulnerable, which allowed Tadj to stimulate the area all around her sensitive core, without allowing her the release she so badly needed.
‘I can’t hold on,’ she heard herself wail.
‘You must,’ Tadj insisted, ‘or I’ll stop.’
With a noisy gust of frustration, she raged, ‘But I can’t—I need it now!’
