Embrace My Heart(14)

His hands smoothed up from her elbow to cup her slender neck, practically covering the entire column beneath a wide palm. His fingers played in the short crop of her blue-black hair where it tapered at her nape. His thumb tilted her chin up and back, studying the expression haunting her lovely face.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Vec. Don’t be afraid of me...” he whispered. The repeated words were silenced when his tongue outlined her mouth.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he groaned, then took total possession of her mouth, backing her toward a remote corner of the terrace as he did so.

The contact was deep, seeking as he journeyed. He’d wanted her for so long and wasn’t about to be cheated from a second’s exploration.

Qasim invaded whatever personal space that existed between them as thoroughly as he invaded the sweet darkness beyond her lush lips. As close as he stood, he kept a hand at her hip, securing her against the smoothly finished wall at her back. He needed control—every ounce he could take. He knew that allowing her to be in charge of how close she got to him would very quickly get her stripped of a few choice articles of clothing as he helped himself to everything he needed from her.



Her tongue battled and engaged his as though it had a life of its own. Still, it took some time for Vectra to truly register that he was kissing her. She’d wanted it, had fantasized about it more times than she cared to admit—had pleasured herself over the way she’d imagined the experience. None of that even breached how wondrously shattering it was in reality.

God, but the man could kiss. He kept a hand firm at her hip when she so desperately wanted to seal herself against him. She had no complaints, however, about what she was being given leave to enjoy. He’d exchanged the ravenous intensity behind his lusty kisses for a more languid invasion.

Vectra reciprocated, winding her tongue slowly about his and then following up with an even more maddening suckle. Her heart, already lodged in the back of her throat, managed to flip when the sound of his whimper reached her ears.

He relaxed into her then, setting her more securely against the smooth wall. It was Vectra who nearly whimpered then. She steadied the movement of her lips, but her fingers frantically roamed his back through the crisp dark material of his shirt. As nice as the fabric felt beneath her fingers, she wanted him out of it.

Such was not to be, it seemed. Her fingers skimmed the buttons of the shirt. She wanted it parted and revealing the chest that felt like a slab of chiseled magnificence under her palms. She had but a few seconds to absorb the pleasure of the unyielding surface before he imprisoned both her wrists in his hand.

Qasim had just as much difficulty policing himself from snagging loose the ties that secured the halter bodice of her dress. He didn’t dare lower his hands. One touch of her bare back would be his undoing. It was hard enough shackling her hands when all he wanted was to run his own across the flawless beauty of her caramel-toned skin.

He ended the kiss, but he couldn’t resist another taste, beckoned by the sight of the pink tip of her tongue just visible beneath her sensually bruised lips.

Vectra arched into him, circling her arms about his neck. The groan he uttered rumbled as though it were somehow amplified. He couldn’t avoid skimming her bare back then.

Previous innocent touches to her arms, the back of her neck or a kiss to the cheek had already hinted at her softness. Having the opportunity now to actually massage her back, uncovered for his touch, drove the fact home. She was like satin in his hands. He whimpered again—no shame, all need.

Let her go, Sim. She’s not for you.

The soft yet stinging reminder was enough to still the indulgent roaming of his hands even as his fingertips skimmed the lace scrap of the G-string panties she wore beneath the dress.

He broke the kiss suddenly and before he took her against the wall the way every last one of his hormones demanded him to. He dropped a brief kiss to her ear and let his mouth linger there.

“You haven’t done anything wrong—not one thing.” He gave her space, just a little. “Dance with me?” He silenced whatever precautions his voices of reason were giving him.

The music tempo had wound down to slow and sensual by the time Qasim and Vectra returned to the party room. The guest of honor and establishment’s owner, Robb DeWitt, had not yet made his entrance. Spotlights flashed around a majestic ice-blue armchair near the front of the room in anticipation of the man’s arrival.

Vectra was pleased by the distracting lights, which kept her and Qasim’s sudden return below the radar. They wouldn’t have garnered much attention anyway, she reasoned. They could usually be found together at some point during an event they both attended.