The Sheik and the Bride Who Said No(Desert Rogues, Book 9)(27) by Susan Mallery
“How can you doubt it?”
“Say the words.”
She stared into his dark eyes and knew that there was no going back. She had to know what it felt like to make love with Murat. She had to have that memory to take with her when she left.
“I want you.”
For a heartbeat he did nothing. Then he gathered her up in his arms and lowered her to the ground.
“We must be practical,” he said as he sat next to her. “Riding boots are not romantic.”
She grinned as he pulled his off, then went to work on her. When their feet were bare, she stretched out on his shirt and held open her arms.
“Make love with me, Murat.”
He claimed her with a soul-touching kiss and a growl. His clever fingers returned to her br**sts where he teased her into a frenzy. She squirmed and writhed, wanting more, needing more to find her release.
At last he moved lower, to the button of her jeans. He unfastened it and lowered the zipper. She pushed down with him, helping him remove the heavy fabric, along with her panties.
And then she was naked before him. Rather than feel embarrassed, Daphne let her legs fall open in a brazen invitation for what she really wanted. He did not disappoint. Even as he lowered his head and began to kiss her br**sts, he slipped his fingers between her thighs and into her waiting dampness.
He found that one perfect spot on the first try. Just the slight brush of skin against the swollen knot of nerves made her jump. He shifted slightly so that he could rub that spot with his thumb while slipping his fingers deep inside her.
This was too much, she thought as she found herself caught up in a sensual vortex. His mouth on her br**sts, his thumb rubbing, his fingers moving around and around. She was slick and more than ready, and it was just a matter of seconds until the tension filled her.
She tried to hold back, to breathe, to do anything to keep herself from falling so quickly. But it felt too good. She clutched at him and gave up the battle.
“Now!” she gasped as her release washed over her. Wave after wave of pleasure surrounded her, filled her, caught her and then let her fall. She pulsed her hips in time with his movements, slowing as she neared the end. He slowed, as well.
When she’d finished, she sank back onto his shirt and draped one forearm across her eyes. It was one thing to impulsively give in to sex with a man. It was another when he was as imperious as Murat. What would happen now?
She braced herself for some comment about his prowess with women or how easily she’d surrendered, and tried to tell herself it didn’t matter.
But he said nothing.
The silence grew until Daphne finally dropped her arm and opened her eyes. Murat leaned over her, but he didn’t look overly pleased with himself. Instead he seemed…humbled.
No way, she thought, even as he brushed his mouth against hers.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Thank you for letting me pleasure you. I know that you could have held back and kept me from taking you to paradise, and you did not.”
The man was crazy. She could no more have held back than she could have flown to the moon. But he didn’t have to know that.
“I liked what you were doing,” she said.
“Perhaps you would like something else, as well.”
She thought about how hard he’d been, how long and thick. Then she thought about him inside of her.
“I think I would,” she told him with a smile.
He didn’t have to be asked twice. Seconds later he was naked and kneeling between her knees. He braced himself on his hands and slowly entered her.
He felt exactly right, she thought as she reached up to caress his back. When he filled her, nerve endings cheered and began to do a little dance. Despite her first release, she felt the tension building again and knew it was going to be even better the second time around.
He moved slowly, giving them both time to adjust and anticipate. About the third time he stroked all the way in, she gave up acting like a lady and pulled him down against her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. As their tongues mated, she shifted so she could hug his hips with her legs. That caused him to push in even deeper and she was instantly lost.
Murat felt the first pulsing ripples of Daphne’s release. His plans to dazzle her with his stamina quickly faded as each contraction pushed him closer to the edge. She gasped and moaned and clung to him, begging him to continue. He forced himself to hold back until she had stilled and only then did he allow himself to give in to the building explosion of desire.
Daphne knew that it was best to act as casual as possible, but she wasn’t sure how to accomplish the task, given what had just happened. She felt as if Murat had somehow touched every cell in her body and made it scream with pleasure.
Still, as he rolled onto his back and drew her close so she could rest her head on his shoulder, she was determined not to gush. He hardly needed the increase in his already impressive ego.
“You are amazing,” he said as he stroked her bare back.
“Thank you. I could say the same thing about you.”
“As you should.”
She laughed. “How like a crown prince to insist on defining the compliments.”
“You are made for pleasure.”
“I don’t know about that, but I don’t mind giving in to it from time to time.”
Especially to a man as skilled as he. He sure knew his way around the female anatomy. Did princes get classes in that sort of thing so they didn’t embarrass themselves? Were there—
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