“That is not the same,” he said roughly, fighting back the hunger that gripped him.
“Isn’t it? We’ve both been taken advantage by men who should have known better. Both been hurt. But you fought back, Isma’il. You fought back and defended yourself and your mother.”
“It was not defense. I wanted to kill him, Lily. Do you understand? I wanted to make him hurt. I wanted to end it once and for all. The guards had to pull me off, otherwise I would have.”
Her hand rose and before he could stop her, she’d cupped his cheek, the warmth of her whispering along his skin like the brush of silk. “But you didn’t. You were a kid, Isma’il. An abused kid. And what you did then, in the heat of the moment, doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t make you him.”
He closed his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away. “But I should have known better. I learned how violent he was from an early age and yet, I used the same methods on him as he used on others. That makes me no better than he was. The potential is there, Lily. It is always there. And that is why this cannot happen between us.”
“No.” Her throat moved. “No. I don’t believe that. Just because you lost control once as a teenager, doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. You didn’t hold back last night and you didn’t hurt me. What’s different now?”
“What’s different? I liked it.” He should let her go and yet somehow, he only held her tighter, her skin so hot beneath his fingers, drawing her against him so he could feel her. “I liked that you resisted me. That you fought me.” He stared down into her eyes, letting her see the true heart of him, where the darkness lay. “It tempted me. Tempted my control and without my control, there is nothing to stop me from being Khalid. Nothing.”
He thought she’d pull away from him. Tell him to get out. Get away from her.
But she didn’t.
She rose up on her toes, staring straight into his eyes. “If you were anything like Khalid you’d want a victim in your bed, Isma’il. A vessel who’ll lie there meekly and take whatever you give her. But you don’t want that. That’s why you liked fighting me. Why you liked me resisting you. Because you like the challenge. You don’t want a submissive woman, Sheikh, you want an equal. Someone who can take your dominance but won’t break. Someone who can give it back to you too.” She took a breath. “Someone like me.”
“Lily . . . ”
“No. Don’t say anything.” She took hold of her towel and with a jerk, pulled the material away from her body, baring herself. “You told me last night to use you to reclaim my pride and I did. Now, it’s your turn.” She took his other hand, drew it to her naked breast. “Use me, Sheikh.” Dark chocolate eyes saw into him. Met the darkness head on. “Use me to reclaim your soul.”
The heat of her skin burned him, the hard press of her nipple against his palm.
His soul was tainted. It could never be reclaimed.
Leave her. Walk away. Safer for her. Safer for you.
But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to move. Fire burned in his veins, the hunger inside him demanding he do exactly what she asked. Take her. Use her.
“Do not offer this to me,” he said hoarsely, “I am dangerous.”
“You’re not.” She touched him again, her fingers against his jaw, her mouth close to his. “Trust yourself.”
A shudder went through him. “I cannot.” The denial torn from him. “That is the one thing I cannot do.”
“Then, trust me instead.” Her mouth brushed his, soft and so very sweet.
“Lily . . . ”
She moved, stepping back from him. Then, dropped to her knees in front of him, her gaze still on his. A submissive posture. But there was no submission in her eyes. “Surrender to me, Sheikh,” she whispered.
Naked, on her knees, demanding his surrender. Strong. Powerful. A combination he could not resist, no matter how much he wanted to.
Isma’il reached for her, gripping her chin in his fingers. Her eyes glittered, his desire mirrored back at him, the spark of challenge burning there. But no fear. No fear at all.
“You should be afraid,” he murmured.
“Why?” Her breasts rose and fell quickly, her breathing loud in the tent. “Do you have a riding crop handy?”
No one else could have said that to him so audaciously. No one but Lily.
His fingers tightened on her. “Have you no sense of self-preservation?”
“Why are you delaying, Isma’il? Anyone would think you’re the one who’s afraid.”
The breath heaved in his chest as desire gripped him and held on tight. Very well. If she wanted him to use her he would. He would show her exactly why he had tried to warn her.