The Prince and the Pregnant Princess(Desert Rogues, Book 6)(47) by Susan Mallery
He slipped away, moving off the bed where he removed his suit jacket, shoes, socks, tie and shirt. Clad only in his trousers and briefs, he returned to the bed. Annoyingly, he stayed at the end with her feet. But she knew better than to worry. He would begin his attentions soon enough. She would have her release, perhaps even several. Sadik believed in a job well-done.
He didn’t disappoint her. He bent low and raised her leg slightly, so he could nibble on the inside of her ankle. From there he made his way to her knee. That innermost feminine part of her quivered in anticipation. She wanted him to touch her there, to take her to paradise and back.
“Do not question your beauty,” he said, his voice low and husky. Still holding her ankle, he brought her foot against his arousal. Her arch nestled against the hard ridge of his need. When she rubbed him, he briefly closed his eyes and groaned.
“That is for later,” he promised.
She smiled. “Have I confessed that I have a sexual fantasy about making you lose control?”
His eyes snapped open. A delicious expression of delight stole across his face.
“Tell me the details of your fantasy.”
She shrugged, pretending indifference to the question. “It’s nothing really.
Just that we’re together, making love.”
His dark eyes glittered. “Go on.”
She noticed that he’d released her foot and was moving between her legs.
“We’re both naked,” she said, as his hand pressed against her waiting heat.
“I start to touch you.”
As she said the words, he shifted so that two fingers pressed deep inside of her. At the same time his thumb found the knot of nerves designed solely for her pleasure. He moved in a slow, steady rhythm. She swallowed.
“What was I saying?” she asked.
“You were telling me about touching.”
If he was trying to provide positive reinforcement for discussing a fantasy, he was doing a darned good job, she thought, barely able to focus. He worked magic between her legs, moving in and out as he rubbed her with his thumb. The combined attentions made her tense in anticipation of her release. She could feel the pressure building and the—
“Huh? Oh, sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m, ah, touching you with my hand, then with my mouth.”
“I like it when you do that.”
“I know.” She caught her breath as he picked up speed. In and out, over and over, mimicking the act of love that would follow.
“So how do I lose control?” he asked.
“You make me stop,” she said, barely able to complete the sentence. “You grab me by the hair and pull my head back. Then you plunge into me.”
He didn’t stop moving, but she saw the frown on his face. “Sadik, it’s a fantasy.”
“I would never grab you by your hair.”
Despite the tension building inside of her, she smiled. “That’s not the point.”
“Oh, I understand the point.”
He stopped touching her. She nearly cried out in protest, but before she could say a word, he reached for the fastenings on his trousers. He ripped open his belt and shoved down his clothing until his arousal sprang free. Something dark and animalistic entered his eyes.
“Your fantasy is that I can’t wait,” he said, pressing against her opening.
“That I find you so irresistible that I forget myself and say, to hell with convention.”
He slipped his fingers between them. As he began to fill her, he moved against her most sensitive place. The combination was unbearable.
“I can’t wait,” he told her, holding her gaze. “I will have you now.”
She wasn’t sure how much of this was about her fantasy and how much it was because having her talk about it turned him on. She found she didn’t much care.
She felt herself spiraling out of control. The combination of his fingers rubbing against her and his large erection filling her was more than she could stand. Pressure built until there was no way to stop the explosion.
The contractions began slowly. She arched her head back and cried out his name.
The release raced through her, growing and building even as he thrust into her over and over again. The question of holding back had long been answered. It was impossible. Not while he was touching her. She felt herself opening—not just her body but her heart. When he claimed her as his, he claimed all of her, although she was determined never to let him know.
He shuddered and stilled. She felt him find his own way to paradise. What she didn’t know was what she would do when he found his way back.
The next morning Cleo found more than a snack waiting for her on the dining-room table in the suite. There was a Bahanian driver’s license, several credit cards in her name—all platinum, of course—a checkbook with an opening balance of $250,000 and a stack of cash. She didn’t bother to count it.
This was, she supposed, another perk of having recently married into the royal family. The problem was, it felt an awful lot like a bribe.
It was because of last night, she thought, still not fully recovered from the intense intimacy she’d shared with Sadik. While they had always experienced passion, something else had occurred the previous evening. Did being married really make that much difference? She didn’t want to think so. Her emotional connection with her husband had already gotten her into trouble, promising her the potential of a lifetime heartache. She didn’t want to make things worse by bonding even more.
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