It was darkly sensual, and wanton. Illicit, too.
It was almost like an erotic dream...sexy, and sensual, and intense...
So intense, especially when he sucked and there was no holding back. The tension and pressure grew, electric sensation shooting through her. She couldn’t resist it, couldn’t resist him. With a cry she climaxed, shattering from his expert tongue and the intimate kiss.
For a moment after, Jemma didn’t know who she was, or where she was. For a moment, she was just part of the night and the diamond studded sky. She felt endless, and open and free.
And then little by little she returned to herself, and him.
Opening her eyes, she looked at him, unsure as to what his reaction would be.
His dark eyes were hooded, his expression watchful. But protective. Maybe even a little possessive.
“Say something,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks burned. “I don’t even know how...or why....” She licked her upper lip, her mouth dry, her heart hammering. “Or what happened.”
“I do.” He crouched next to her, lifting a strand of hair from her warm, flushed face. “I wanted you to feel good. Did I make you feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Then I feel good.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
AN HOUR AND a half later, back at the Kasbah, Jemma lay in the center of the enormous bronze jeweled bed in the Topaz Chamber, and watched the blades of the fan turn overhead, hearing but not listening to the hum of the fan, seeing the orange silk panels at the window stir. The cool air felt good against her heated skin.
The soft whir of the fan’s blades and the caress of cool air soothed her.
She was panicking. But there was no need to panic. Everything would be okay. Nothing terrible had happened, nothing life changing. He’d kissed her. Touched her. Brought her to an orgasm. It wasn’t the end of the world, and it was not as if she hadn’t ever indulged in oral sex before. Damien hadn’t loved to do it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it.
And yet it was all so confusing. Her feelings. Her desire. And that rush of guilty pleasure, after he’d brought her to a climax.
Why had she felt guilty? Why should she feel bad for feeling pleasure? Was it because his lovemaking lacked love? Was it because his lovemaking had been so erotic?
She wished she knew. She wished she understood. She wished she wasn’t alone now, in the bed, feeling this way.
Mikael had said he’d return soon. He’d told her after he escorted her back to the chamber, that he needed to make a phone call, and promised to come back as soon as he could, but it’d been an hour. She was still waiting.
“What’s wrong?” Mikael’s voice sounded in the doorway.
She sat up quickly, startled, and yet also relieved.
“You’re back,” she said, drawing the sheet closer to her breasts. She’d changed from the evening gown into the peach satin nightgown with the gold straps that had been left out for her.
“Yes. Disappointed?” he drawled.
“No. I’m glad.”
“Are you?”
She nodded, feeling strangely undone. Her throat ached. She swallowed around the lump. “I...missed...you.”
He turned on a small golden lantern in the corner; the soft light illuminated the wide gold and orange stripes on the walls, this room as exotic as the tent earlier in the desert.
He’d showered and changed into black silk pajama pants and a black robe that he’d left open over his bare chest. His skin gleamed, gold. “I was gone longer than I intended,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his robe. “But I’ve come bearing gifts.”
“You know how I feel about presents,” she said, as he took a seat next to her on the bed.
“Yes, but you should know by now how much I like giving them.” He drew a wide jeweled gold cuff from the pocket of the robe, the thick cuff inlaid with pink diamonds, rubies, and topaz and fastened the bangle around her wrist
She glanced down at the heavy gold bangle, thickly studded with jewels. It had to be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. “Are these all real gems?”
“Yes.”
“It’s old.”
“At least one hundred and fifty years.”
The ornate bracelet on her wrist slid forward, exquisite pink and ruby stones catching the light, casting prisms on the wall. A jeweled bed. A jeweled wrist. But jewels wouldn’t keep her here. Jewels sparkled but they couldn’t keep her warm. They wouldn’t make her feel needed, loved. And that was what she wanted most. Love.
“Thank you,” she said, giving her hand another light shake, admiring the enormous stones in the thick gold, using the time to divert his attention so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.