The Sheikh's Virgin(Desert Rogues, Book 13)(18) by Susan Mallery
Her lips were warm and soft and tempted him. She continued the kiss, pressing lightly, teasing. He reached for her, intending to pull her down next to him, only to remember his word.
He swore silently, wanting to feel her weight on him before he turned her, claiming her as his own. He burned and his arousal throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
She drew back and opened her eyes. Confusion swirled there, as did shock, making him confident she had felt the connection as well.
One kiss. He cursed himself for making the promise and giving his word. He could do nothing against such bonds, nothing but lie there, wanting what he could not have.
She touched her fingers to her mouth, then swallowed. “Maybe a second kiss wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
Relief battled with desire. Released from his pledge, he pulled her down onto the pillows. “No, it would not.”
Victoria had been unable to stop herself. The second she’d touched Kateb’s mouth with her own, she’d been swept away by a sensual wanting unlike anything she’d experienced before.
There had been men in her life—two—both of whom had been nice and sweet and eager to please her. She’d enjoyed the experience, had been comfortable making love. She’d felt anticipation, then pleasure, but never a driving need that made her mind go blank and her body tremble.
As Kateb pulled her against him, she went willingly, draping herself across him, body on body. If only they were skin on skin, she thought, as he turned her on the cushions and loomed over her. Then his mouth was on hers and she couldn’t think about anything except how good it felt to have him take control.
He claimed her with a touch filled with yearning. Heat poured through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, both to touch him and to keep him close. He tilted his head, touching her lower lip with his tongue. She parted immediately, wanting to taste him and stroke him. Wanting him in her mouth, taking and giving.
He plunged inside, claiming her. He circled and danced. She did the same to him, each touch, each tingle making her more aware of maleness. Of him. Of all the possibilities.
He kissed her deeply, their breath mingling. The cushions yielded, then cradled her body. His hand moved up and down her back before sliding to her hip.
Although she was covered from shoulder to ankle, she was grateful the gossamer fabric didn’t offer much of a barrier to his warm skin. If only he would touch her in other places. Her br**sts, between her legs…she didn’t want him to stop.
She touched his shoulders, his broad back, then his cool, silky hair. He broke the kiss, then pressed his mouth against her neck. She slipped her hands under his loose shirt to feel the delicious heat of his bare skin. He moved lower and, through the fabric took her right breast in his mouth.
The unexpected contact made her cry out in pleasure. Her ni**les were hard and the wet gentle sucking drew up fire from the very center of her. Wanting was everywhere. Her bones were liquid, her very cells crying out for more and more and more.
It was a level of passion she’d never experienced before, a need that went so deep, she knew she would die if he didn’t take her. She pulled frantically at his shirt. He sat up enough to remove it, then grabbed the front vee of her dress and ripped it in two.
The fabric gave instantly and she was naked before him. She shrugged out of the shredded material and reached for him.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and thick with desire. “You are so perfect.”
He looked at her, all of her, then touched her br**sts with his finger. That single finger trailed down her belly. Down and down until her breath caught as she waited for what he would do to her.
No one had ever stared at her with such intensity, such possession. She should have been shy or worried about those extra fifteen pounds. Instead she watched him watch her and felt that place between her legs swell in anticipation.
At last he touched her there. A lone stroke that made her legs fall open and her breath catch. Then he was lowering himself to lick her belly before settling between her thighs with an intimate kiss that made her moan.
She was already trembling and close and desperate. He moved against her with a sureness that allowed her to relax into the experience even as tension tightened every muscle in her body. She clutched at pillows, dug her heels into the carpet and offered herself to him.
He cupped her hips, his fingers kneading her skin. His tongue moved against her in a steady rhythm she couldn’t resist. Powerful tension and hunger burned until the trembling became shaking and her breath was only gasps.
Over and over he touched her, pushing her closer. She arched her head back and raced toward the moment when she would—
Her orgasm claimed her like a desert storm—fast and beautiful and out of control. She cried out as every part of her pulsed. He continued to move his tongue against her, easing her through her pleasure, drawing the last drop from her. When she was finally still, stunned by the power of her body’s reaction to him, he quickly pulled off his trousers and plunged into her.
He was thick and hard and stretched her to perfection. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper, wanting to take all of him. She opened her eyes and found him watching her, his gaze intense. She couldn’t look away. She could only watch the play of sexual tension across his face and know when he was getting close.
It was a level of intimacy completely unfamiliar to her, and even though it was frightening, she couldn’t look away. Then he pushed in a little deeper and hit a spot that made her insides clench. An unexpected release claimed her again. She breathed his name. Her eyes closed. Seconds later, he groaned and was still.
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