She scowled and stretched out her stiff limbs. So much for not thinking about what Arkim had told her. She shook off the disturbing tendrils of the dream and looked around, taking in the fact that someone must have come into the tent and lit some more lights. Arkim? The thought made her heart beat faster.
She went into the bathing area and, feeling sticky, took off her clothes and dropped them to the floor. She stepped under the shower, which was in a large private cubicle near the bath and open to the elements. Twilight was just starting to turn the sky dusky, and Sylvie couldn't help but be affected by the magic of the place as the deliciously warm water sluiced down over her head and body.
Eventually she switched off the shower, dragged a towel around herself and twisted up her damp hair. She found a robe hanging on the back of the dressing screen. It was a beautiful emerald-green colour, silk-light as a feather. Slipping it on, she relished its coolness against her skin.
And then she went to the door of the tent and looked out. Twilight was descending around the camp in earnest now, bathing it in a gorgeous lilac light. She didn't see anyone moving, but could hear low voices in the distance and smell something cooking. No sign of Arkim. She didn't like the hollow feeling that brought with it. Only a couple of hours ago she'd been ready to leave, and then he'd told her...so much.
She thought of the pool she'd seen when they'd arrived and slipped her shoes on to explore. The air was sultry and warm, even though the intensity of the day had diminished. When she came close to the beautifully peaceful pool she pushed aside foliage and then she stopped dead in her tracks, her heart in her mouth, because it was occupied.
By a butt-naked Arkim.
He stood in the shallows, and all she could see were the firm globes of a very muscular bottom as he bent and threw water over his head. Water ran in rivulets down his back. And then he stood straight and tensed. He'd sensed her. Sylvie stopped breathing. She knew she should turn and run. Do something. But she couldn't move.
And then he turned around.
His hair was slicked back, and he was...magnificent. Sylvie had seen plenty of naked male bodies-working at the revue and helping people change between numbers meant personal modesty quickly became a thing of the past. But she'd never seen a man like this. He looked as if he'd been carved out of rock. His chest was broad and leanly muscled. His chest hair was dark and dusted over his pectorals before dissecting his chest and abs to lead down to slim hips and...
Sylvie's heart was beating so fast she wasn't sure how she was still standing. Arkim's penis twitched under her gaze, the shaft getting harder as she watched, rising from the thicket of dark hair between his powerfully muscled thighs.
Somehow she dragged her gaze up and his dark eyes were on her, molten... The very air seemed to contract around them.
When she'd first seen him he'd been dressed in that three-piece suit, all buttoned up. Here, now, he was stripped bare. Without the armour that told the world he was different, respectable. To Sylvie there was something very poignant about finding Arkim like this, naked.
He stepped out of the pool and gracefully bent down to pick up a piece of material and wrap it around his waist. Sylvie was barely aware. Her entire body and mind was focused solely on this man, on this moment. It throbbed with potential.
She realised with a stunning flash of clarity that she wanted to give herself to him-this man who had never had a moment of purity in his life. Who'd seen things at a young age that had darkened his view of the world for ever.
It was the one thing she had-her innocence. And with every fibre of her being she wanted to gift it to him. As if she could assuage the raw edges she'd seen earlier.
Arkim walked up to her and Sylvie's eyes stayed on his, unblinking. She was drawing confidence from his obvious arousal and his intentness on her.
He looked almost ferocious, every line of his body and face unyielding.'What do you want, Sylvie?'
It wasn't just a question. It was almost a demand.
Sylvie spoke what was in her heart and soul. And in her body.'I want you, Arkim.'
He came closer and lifted a hand, undoing the pin holding up her damp hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. He put his hands on her arms and pulled her closer. Closer to that bare wet chest. Until they were touching. Until the points of her breasts hurt with the need to press against him more fully. His erection pushed against her lower belly and excitement flooded her, making her ready.
'Arkim...' she said, not even sure what she was asking for. Why wasn't he taking her right now? Making the most of his conquering?
'You're sure you want this?'
Sylvie hadn't been expecting this consideration. Another dangerously tender emotion ran through her. She didn't hesitate. She moved closer, feeling the delicious press of her breasts against him.
'Yes.'
Just one word. Simple, but devastating.
In a rush of emotion she said,'I want to give you-' But she stopped, not sure how to articulate exactly what she did want to give him. So she just said a little lamely,'I want to give you myself.'
Arkim's hands were so tight on her arms it almost hurt, but then they relaxed marginally and he bent down for a moment. She felt herself being lifted into his arms, against his chest, and he walked back the way she'd come.
One of her arms was tight around his neck and she ducked her head into his chest, eyes shut tight. Her other hand was on her robe, holding it together. She didn't want to catch the knowing eyes of that woman, or anyone else. She felt too raw and needy.
And also dangerously cossetted, held in his arms like this.
She pushed down all the tangled emotional implications of how she was feeling and focused on the urgent hunger racing through her blood.
When everything felt cooler and darker Sylvie knew that they'd entered an interior space and opened her eyes again. It had to be Arkim's tent-similar to hers, but bigger, more masculine, with bolder colours. And the bed in the centre of the tent was...huge.
Arkim carried her over and put her down on her feet by the side of it. She avoided looking at it by looking at him.
He cupped her face with his hand.'I've wanted you from the moment I saw you. I saw it as a weakness, as something to be denied...but not any more.'
Sylvie felt vulnerable. She believed him, and his words had all sorts of implications she couldn't think about right now.
Acting on impulse, she raised herself on tiptoe and put her arms around his neck.'Stop talking...you're ruining the moment.'
Arkim smiled, and it was devilish. It made something soar inside her.
He tugged the belt on Sylvie's robe and it fell open. She unwrapped her arms from his neck and stood before him, heart palpitating wildly as Arkim pushed the robe apart, revealing her naked body to his dark gaze.
He looked at her for a long moment, until Sylvie could start to feel herself trembling lightly. She was someone who knew her own body intimately, as any dancer would, but right now it felt foreign, and she was insecure.
'You're shaking.'
She looked at him and tried a smile.'You're quite intimidating.'
Arkim's answer to that was to take off the material around his waist before he pushed her robe off her shoulders so that it fell down her arms and to the floor.
'Now we're equal.'
Those words impacted deep inside her. All along she'd fought a battle with this man not to let him make her feel inferior, less than him. The moment was heady.
Arkim turned then, taking her with him as he moved closer to the bed. Sylvie was unbalanced and fell against him, but he caught her easily and drew her down with him, so they landed on the soft surface in a sprawl of limbs.
She was lying on top of his hard body, every inch of her flesh coming into contact with his. She felt dizzy. And then Arkim's hands were smoothing down her bare back and cupping her buttocks, pulling her thighs apart so that they lay either side of his hips.
His mouth reached up to hers and Sylvie felt her hair fall over her shoulders, screening them as she fell into the kiss...wet and rough and intoxicating.
After more long, languorous kisses Arkim moved, so that Sylvie was now the one on her back, and he loomed over her, huge and awe-inspiring in the gloom of the tent. One of his thighs was between her legs and he moved it against her, making her body twitch and ache. The friction caused a delicious tension to coil inside her and she bit her lip.
Arkim's gaze roved over her body hungrily.'You are more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.'
Sylvie shook her head, feeling breathless because of what was happening between her legs.'No...you're beautiful.'
But he didn't seem to be listening. He was transfixed by her breasts, cupping one now, so that the hard point pouted upwards wantonly. He lowered his head and blew gently on it, making her tingle and ache for more, and then his mouth was on her, and that wicked tongue, flicking and sucking on the turgid flesh.