At the Sheikh's Bidding(31)

‘I think the best way for me to adjust to  married life is to practise   every aspect of it,' she whispered, shocked  by her own daring and yet   driven by a primitive yearning she barely  understood.

With fingers that shook slightly she slid the straps  of her chemise   down her arms and heard his harsh intake of breath when  she peeled the   grey silk down over her breasts, her stomach, and finally  her hips,  and  allowed it to pool around her ankles.

She could  hear the whisper of a breeze stir the leaves of the palm   trees, and the  song of some exotic bird, but the silence from Zahir   stretched her  nerves and she wondered for one terrible moment if she   had got it  wrong-if he had been turned off by her inexperience or had   tired of her  already. His slow, sensual smile reassured her, and the   molten heat that  gleamed from beneath his heavy lids promised heaven.

‘Come and  swim with me, then, kalila,' he invited, and before she   realised his  intention he'd caught hold of her hand and pulled her into   the pool, his  mouth capturing her startled cry as they sank beneath   the surface.

The  water was cool on her heated skin, but Zahir's body was warm when   he  crushed her against his chest and tangled his legs with hers,   holding  her so tightly to him that their bodies seemed to be melded   together.  Erin was out of her depth, and clung to his shoulders. She   had closed  her eyes when he'd pulled her under, and, deprived of   vision, her other  senses seemed more acute.

She loved the sensation of his lips  moving deliciously on hers beneath   the water, of his hands roaming up  and down her body before sliding   beneath her to cup her bottom. But  finally the need for oxygen forced   him to propel them upwards, and when  they burst through the surface of   the pool he broke the kiss, smoothing  her tangled curls back from her   face.


‘Are you sure this is what you want, Aphrodite?'

Zahir's  deep, velvet-soft voice resonated through her, and Erin's eyes   flew  open as she felt his powerful erection nudge between her thighs.   Was he  going to make love to her in the pool? Excitement cascaded   through her,  and she nodded wordlessly and wrapped her legs around him   in mute  invitation.                       
       
           



       

His husky laughter tickled her ear. ‘Patience,  kalila. This time we   will take it slowly, and I will take great care not  to hurt you,' he   promised as he strode out of the pool and across the  sand towards the   tent. The friction of her breasts rubbing against his  hair-roughened   chest caused her nipples to swell and tighten, and she  could not   restrain a little shiver of pleasurable anticipation at the  thought   that he would soon be caressing her with his hands and his  mouth.

The interior of the tent was cool and dim after the bright  light   outside. Their bodies were already almost dry from the heat of  the sun,   but when Zahir set her down he wrapped her in a towel and  continued   the process with an efficiency that left her tingling all  over.

He was not the only one who could tease. ‘My turn,' she  murmured,   taking the towel from him and patting the droplets of water  that still   clung to his chest hair. She moved the towel lower, totally  absorbed  in  her task, and heard his breath hiss between his teeth when   curiosity  overcame her shyness and she stroked her fingers along the   solid length  of his throbbing arousal. Steel wrapped in velvet, she   thought  wonderingly, surprised by her own daring as she circled him and   felt  him harden still further in her hands. He was beautiful, like  some   magnificent sculpture, but instead of being formed from cold  marble his   skin was warm and satin-soft beneath her fingertips.

Zahir  uttered a harsh groan and gripped her wrist. ‘Enough, kalila,' he    muttered hoarsely. Her innocence was indisputable, but she was   obviously  a born seductress. ‘Much more of that and we won't even make   it onto  the bed. Now it is my turn to prepare you. Lie down,' he   commanded  softly, his eyes meshing with hers when she complied and   stretched out  on the silk sheets.

For a moment he simply stood there, staring  down at her, and Erin's   breath caught when she saw the gleam of  primitive hunger in his gaze.

‘You are so beautiful,' he said  rawly. ‘The moment I saw you I could   not take my eyes off you. All I  could think of was how quickly I could   persuade you into my bed. Now you  are my wife, and I find that I am   very possessive.' He gave a  self-derisive laugh and said beneath his   breath, ‘Which is not something  I had expected.'

For a second an emotion crossed his face that  Erin could not decipher,   but then it was gone, and his slow, sexy smile  sent fire thundering   through her veins. He came down beside her on the  bed and leaned over   her to claim her mouth in an unhurried kiss, tracing  the shape of her   lips with his tongue before dipping between them to  initiate a sensual   exploration that left her breathless. Then he moved  lower, trailing a   line of kisses down her throat while he cupped her  breasts in his  palms  and watched her nipples swell as he rolled them  gently between  finger  and thumb.

The feel of his mouth closing  around one jutting peak and then the   other was so exquisite that Erin  whimpered and dug her fingers into his   shoulders. She was ready for him,  had been since he had stripped by   the pool, but he ignored her soft  cries that she couldn't wait and   slipped his hand between her thighs. He  parted her and slid one finger   and then two into her molten warmth,  gently stretching her in  readiness  for his full possession. He was  determined not to rush her,  as he had  done the previous night, but the  silken evidence that she  was fully  aroused was seriously testing his  self-control, and with a  muttered  oath he positioned himself above her  and dropped a hard kiss  on her  mouth.


Erin twisted her hips  restlessly as the first spasms of pleasure   radiated out from deep in her  pelvis. Zahir's wickedly skilful fingers   were taking her higher and  higher, but she wanted more, wanted to feel   him deep inside her, and  when he settled himself between her legs she   bent her knees, her breath  catching as he entered her with one  careful  thrust. He'd said he would  take it slowly this time and he  hadn't been  joking, she realised when he  drew back and then cautiously  thrust  again, with such exquisite care  that tears blurred her eyes.

Last night he had sought to dominate  her, but now he was treating her   with such gentle respect that her  heart ached. This was how it must be   between two people who loved each  other. But Zahir did not love her.  He  was simply determined to restore  his pride and prove he was not at  the  mercy of his hormones. Nor did she  love him, she reminded herself.  It  was just sex-very, very good sex.  She doubted any other man could  give  her such pleasure, and now she  would never find out. She had  decided to  marry him in a moment of panic,  fearing that she would lose  Kazim if  she did not become his wife, but  in her eyes marriage was a  lifelong  commitment that she was determined  to honour.                       
       
           



       

Zahir suddenly stilled his movements, and his jaw  clenched when he   caught the shimmer of tears in Erin's eyes. ‘You should  have told me I   was hurting you,' he grated harshly, already withdrawing  from her, but   Erin slid her arms across his back and tried to urge him  forward.

‘You're not hurting me, I promise,' she assured him  frantically. ‘Don't   stop, Zahir. Please.' As she spoke she lifted her  hips and wrapped  her  legs tightly around him, and after a moment's  hesitation he moved   again, gentle at first, then harder and faster,  bitterly aware that he   could not fight his desperate need for sexual  release.