For the first time in his life Zahir did not know what to think. Part of him wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but the cynic in him pointed out that it was highly unlikely she had adopted Kazim without wanting anything in return. But what did it matter if her motives had been questionable? She was his wife now-in word and deed. He had married her because he had been desperate to bed her, and, despite being a virgin, her passion had matched his.
Marriages had succeeded on less, he brooded as he strode back over to the bed, his eyes narrowing when Erin immediately clutched the satin bedspread to her. ‘You say that the only reason you married me was so that you could stay with Kazim. But if that's so why didn't you stop me making love to you tonight?'
He dropped down onto the mattress and idly wound one of her silky red curls around his finger. Then, before she had time to react, he whipped the bedspread from her grasp and pushed her flat on her back.
Her eyes were huge in her flushed face, and he watched with satisfaction the way her pupils dilated when he skimmed his hand over her stomach and cupped one small, creamy breast in his palm. Her breath was coming in sharp little gasps, her lips slightly parted, pink and lush and seriously tempting. ‘You surrendered your innocence to me, kalila, and I can only think it was because you were overwhelmed by the passion I aroused in you and couldn't deny yourself the sexual release your body craved.'
‘Well, of course you would think that, wouldn't you? Because your ego is so over-inflated I'm surprised you don't need to wear gravity boots,' Erin muttered through gritted teeth, incensed by his arrogance and her pathetic, shaming inability to resist him.
The brush of his thumb-pad over her swollen nipple was so exquisite that she had to bite her lip to hold back her betraying moan of pleasure, but fortunately her pride had at last woken up, and she would rather die than let him see how much he affected her.
‘Actually, your first assumption was right. I knew that if I told you I was a virgin you would realise that my marriage to Faisal had been in name only and there was a chance you could win custody of Kazim. But now I am your wife-our marriage has been consummated, and even under Qubbah's archaic laws I must have rights to my son. I hate to disabuse you of the notion that you're irresistible, and that sex with you is fantastic,' she continued, dropping her gaze when she saw the flash of anger in his dark eyes, ‘but I'm afraid I'm in no hurry to repeat the experience.'
The ensuing silence played havoc with her nerves, so she faked a yawn and pulled the bedspread over her once more, praying he would go and find somewhere else to sleep.
‘Really?' Zahir said at last, in a deceptively soft tone that sent a shaft of nervous apprehension down her spine. ‘My apologies, kalila, I had not realised that you were so reluctant. Indeed,' he drawled silkily, ‘from your screams of pleasure I was sure you were enjoying every caress and kiss and bite-but let's see, shall we, just how much you hate it when I touch you … here?'
Erin drew a swift, shallow breath when he flicked the bedspread aside and pushed his hand between her thighs, parting them with insulting ease. ‘Let me up, Zahir,' she grated, every muscle in her body clenched as she fought the insidious warmth that was already flooding through her veins. ‘I don't want this. So unless you intend to take me by force-' She broke off, her heart thudding erratically, when stroked his finger lazily up and down the swollen outer lips of her femininity and then probed between them, exploring her so thoroughly that it was all she could do not to lift her hips in mute supplication. She could feel the betraying wetness pooling between her legs, and could not control the first delicious spasms that racked her when he stretched her wider and inserted another finger, while his thumb-pad found the ultra-sensitive nub of her clitoris and brushed, feather-light, across it.
When he lowered his head to her breasts and drew first one dusky pink crest and then its twin into his mouth she stifled a moan, From somewhere she dredged enough will-power to brace her hands against his shoulders and attempt to push him away. ‘Don't.' But her frantic plea was lost beneath the pressure of his mouth as he captured her lips in a bruising kiss that sought to dominate and prove that he was in control.
His lips were hot and hard, his tongue tormenting her relentlessly as he thrust deep into her mouth in an erotic simulation of lovemaking. Her determination to fight him was fading, lost in the maelstrom of sensation he was arousing with his mouth and his wickedly invasive fingers.
‘I have never taken a woman by force in my life, and I don't intend to start with you,' Zahir growled against her skin. ‘Tell me now that you don't want this and I'll stop,' he taunted, his eyes gleaming with undisguised mockery when she opened her mouth but could not utter the words. ‘Do you want me to stop, Erin?'
‘No.' The word was wrenched from her soul, and she squeezed her eyes shut to blot out his satisfied smile as he moved over her. She was utterly humiliated by her weakness, but she was on fire for him, her body trembling with her desperate need to feel him inside her.
‘What do you want?' He was hovering mere inches from her, the hard ridge of his erection pushing into her belly. He was determined to have her complete capitulation, and she gave a sob of shamed despair.
‘You.'
He entered her with a hard, savage thrust, withdrew almost fully and thrust again, deep, powerful strokes that filled her to the hilt and drove every thought from her mind but the thundering urgency to reach that magical place he had taken her to only minutes before. She realised that when he had made love to her for the first time and discovered her innocence he must have tempered his passion to accommodate her inexperience. But now she was no longer a virgin, and he took her with an almost brutal force, powering into her so that she simply anchored her nails into his shoulders and clung on for the wildest ride of her life.
They climaxed together, a violent, soul-shattering explosion that saw her rake her nails down his back as her body shook with the intensity of her release and caused him to mutter something in Arabic, his voice low and raw.
His chest was heaving when he rolled off her immediately the last spasms of his passion had died away. He stood to drag his trousers on and stared down at her dispassionately, his eyes darkening as they lingered on the faint bruises on her pale skin.
‘Brute,' Erin muttered thickly, tears of mortification burning her eyes.
She hated him, and hated herself more. Yet even now, when he was looking down his arrogant nose at her as if she was a whore and he had just paid for her services, she longed to trace her fingers over the hard planes of his face and feel the brush of his lips on hers in a kiss of tenderness rather than blazing passion. From the first moment she had seen him she had felt a connection with him that she did not understand-as if their souls were inextricably linked and only he could ease the loneliness that had haunted her all her life. It couldn't be love, she told herself desperately. It wasn't possible to love and hate someone simultaneously-was it? And if it was love, then she was an even bigger fool than she had believed-because Zahir was as harsh and unforgiving as the desert. His heart was hewn from granite, and he would never love her.