Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her hands were on his buttocks now, silently commanding his movements to be stronger, more forceful.
Arkim huffed out laboured-sounding words.'Should have known you'd be a fast learner...'
Sylvie smiled up at him-but then her smile got stuck as Arkim touched something deep inside her that sent shockwaves and thrills through her. His movements became faster, wilder, as if he couldn't control them any more, and the delicious tension Sylvie had felt before coiled tight within her again, and tighter. Until she begged for release.
Arkim put a hand between them and pressed his thumb against her, and Sylvie couldn't hold back her cry as she broke into shards of light and sensation. Her whole body convulsed with pleasure around Arkim's, her skin damp and slick.
Powerful shudders shook Arkim's body as he finally took his own release, and through the cataclysm Sylvie could feel the contractions of her body around his. In that moment she'd never felt so complete.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SYLVIE FLOATED ON her back, naked in the warm water, and looked up into an endless violet-hued sky. Early evening was practically the only time Arkim would let her out, for fear of the sun damaging her skin, even though she faithfully slathered on factor fifty.
The silky water lapped between her legs. Soothing the tenderness. She couldn't keep back a small smile... The last week had been the most illuminating, mind-blowing week of her life. It had been an intense tutorial in the sensual arts, with a master teacher.
She'd never known... She'd heard people talk about it, but had never really understood just what they'd been going on about. And that deep-rooted fear of rejection had made her shy away from any intimacy.
Not here, though. Every night and most of the day Arkim laid Sylvie bare, over and over again, until she was reduced to a mass of sensation and lusting and craving-no longer a human being. He'd turned her into some kind of animal.
That thought made something tighten inside her and Sylvie flipped over, lazily swimming to the far end of the pool. She wasn't worried about being seen-the staff knew not to come to the pool at this time, and used it only during the day.
She sat on a natural stone ledge in the water, the tops of her breasts exposed, and blushed when she imagined Arkim taking her here-pressing between her legs, urging her to wrap them around his waist as he thrust so deep inside her she'd have to bite down on his skin to contain her cries of ecstasy.
She wasn't entirely sure someone hadn't slipped a drug into her drink or food, and that this wasn't all some kind of crazy hallucination. But the air was warm on her wet skin, and the water was real enough. As was the smell of cooking. And the sounds of people in the distance, laughing and talking softly.
Sylvie hadn't seen much of the nomads-they kept themselves to themselves. And anyway...how could she notice anyone else when Arkim filled her vision larger than a twenty-foot statue?
Physically Sylvie had never been more replete or happy. Emotionally, however... Her insides tightened again.
Since she and Arkim had started sleeping together there had been no more intensely personal confessionals. She had no idea what he thought of her now, beyond the very physical evidence that he wanted her. And she wanted him. Oh, God. She wanted him more and more each day. As if the more she had of him the tighter would be the bonds holding them together.
For her.
Sylvie knew one thing: even though he'd said he accepted her, this was a moment out of time for Arkim. He didn't have to say it. Whatever he'd once thought of her-and whatever he thought of her now-was irrelevant. This was just a slaking of lust for him. And when they left here he would turn his back and walk away. Because a man like Arkim Al-Sahid, with all his dark secrets and troubled past, would never choose a woman like Sylvie.
Even if she had been a virgin, and that had changed his perception of her, she was still unpalatable in his real world. Sylvie had to remember that, and not get caught up in this interim magic and madness.
In spite of everything that had brought them here he'd given her an incredible gift. The gift of her own sensuality and sexuality. Which was ironic, considering she'd been successfully projecting it for years. He'd taken the broken pieces inside her and forged a new wholeness. And that was what she would take with her when this was over...
She heard a movement and looked up to see Arkim standing at the edge of the pool, with only a towel around his waist. Hair slicked back. He'd obviously just showered. Instantly Sylvie could feel the effect of his presence on her body-blood flowing to erogenous zones, flesh swelling, tingling, becoming engorged.
With his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face he looked truly intimidating. He was looking for her, and Sylvie's breath quickened as his gaze came closer and closer... Zing! Eye contact. Heat. Pulsing awareness.
The scowl faded and was replaced by a look of carnal intent. With one hand Arkim undid the towel and twitched it to the ground. He stepped into the pool-gloriously, unashamedly naked.
Like a little wanton, Sylvie had her legs open and ready for him when he came close enough to touch her. He registered her acquiescence with a feral smile that curled her insides.
The head of his erection notched against her sex, slipping between slick folds. His hands cupped and moulded her breasts, teasing the hard points, before he lowered his head so that he could tease first one, then the other, with his hot mouth and tongue and teeth.
Then his mouth was on hers, swallowing her cry as he seated himself with one smooth thrust, deep inside her. Everything quickened. She was so primed she couldn't hold back a series of shattering orgasms, and she felt Arkim's struggle as he fought to hang on... But it was too much. He pulled free of her clasping body at the last moment and the hot spurt of his seed landed on her belly and breasts. His face was drawn back into a silent scream of ecstasy.
The lash of his essence on her skin felt like a brand, and intensely erotic. But as suddenly as she felt that, Sylvie felt cold, in spite of the heat and languor in her bones. Because she ached with wanting to feel his seed lodged deep inside her, where it might create life, connecting her to this man for ever.
* * *
'Are you planning on dropping off the radar for good?'
Arkim scowled into the satellite phone and answered his executive assistant.'Of course not.'
'Good, because the deal with Lewis is still on-just about. But you need to be here to deal with it.'
After a few more minutes of discussion Arkim ended the call. He was on a horse, on a sand dune, looking down over the oasis.
He could see Sylvie's bright red hair as she played with a group of the nomad children, chasing them. He could hear their squeals of delight from here. Her skin had taken on a golden glow and more delicate freckles, in spite of the high-factor sun cream he insisted she wear every day.
He felt himself smiling, and a sense of deep contentment was flowing over him and through him. Along with that piquant edge of desire never far from the surface whether Sylvie was in sight or not.
His smile faded when he thought of that first night again. He'd been convinced he'd have to take them both back to civilisation after she'd walked out on him- justifiably-with all the hauteur of a queen. What she'd told him about the legacy of her father had eaten away at his guts like acid:'When you've protected yourself against rejection your whole life it's almost a relief not to have to fear it any more.' But ultimately he hadn't been strong enough to walk away. Or to send her away. So he'd been selfish. And taken her for himself.
And even though she'd told him so fiercely,'You're not your father...' he was afraid that he was. That he still had some deep flaw inside him. Yet somehow, right now, looking down at that bright head, the assertion didn't sting as much as it usually did.
He'd always ensured his lovers never strayed beyond the firm boundaries he laid down. He always went to their places, or met them in hotels. He never brought them to his personal space. Never encouraged them to talk of personal matters.
And he never spirited them away to a desert oasis to lose himself in their bodies before he went crazy...
'Are you planning on dropping off the radar for good?'
It suddenly struck him: what the hell was he doing? His smile faded completely and he went cold inside. His reputation still hung in the balance, and it was thanks to that woman's actions. He'd meted out his vengeance. He'd had her under him, begging for release. But not for forgiveness. At what point had Arkim forgotten that?
Around the first time Sylvie opened her legs to you...
It started hitting him like a series of blows about the head and face. Just how much he'd let her in. Just how much he'd told her. And all because since the moment she'd arrived she'd been nothing like he'd expected. The biggest revelation of all having been her innocence. Her physical innocence.