Pregnant by the Sheikh(15)

“Why? Do I somehow fulfill more criteria than others?”

“You fulfill every single one, and others I didn’t even have till I met you.” He cupped her cheek hungrily, his gaze devouring her. “I want my heir to be born of the perfect woman.”

This made her snort. “Boy, are you barking up the wrong woman. I’m so far from perfect I’m in another galaxy.”

His fingers sank into her hair, gave a pleasurable tug at her nape. “You are perfect to me. Just like I, with all of my glaring flaws, am perfect to you.”

Her snort was more indelicate this time. “What glaring flaws? You are perfect, and would be so in anyone’s eyes.”

“Would I? That’s news to me, since both allies and foes consider me a monster.” Before she could object, he pressed on. “From what you know of the business world, you must know what it took to rise to my current status and to maintain it. You know I must be ruthless and remorseless, and that I don’t give a damn what the world thinks of me, and that nothing is beyond me. From our interactions so far, you must realize I’m dangerous, even deadly, and I can destroy anyone I decide deserves it, even kill them, without turning a hair.”

She stared at him. He’d put everything she’d felt about him in her bones into words. Everything that made him even more perfect to her.

She nodded slowly. “Instinctively, and logically, I know you’re all that.”

His lips spread in satisfaction. “All that makes me the opposite of perfect to everyone. Except for my partners, I’m someone to dread, or at most to appease, either in the hope of winning my favor or avoiding my danger. As for the women who pursue me, most risk it for the lure of said obscene power and wealth, and a few for the misguided fantasy of attempting to tame the most dangerous predator there is. But all fear me, and none trust me.” His arms squeezed her tighter into his containment, his eyes growing more possessive. “You’re the only one to ever see me for what I am, scales and claws and fangs and all, and instead of putting you off, everything about me is exactly what appeals to you. As you say in your region, I’m the one to yemla ainek—the one to ‘fill your eye.’”

It was as if he was reading her mind. More, her deepest, most private beliefs and yearnings.

Again she nodded, not even thinking of contesting his verdict. “I left naiveté and idealism behind when I was seven, grew up in the cutthroat worlds of highest-level politics and business. I’ve long since learned that the best men need to have a lot of monster in them to be merciless enough to make the painful decisions, cunning enough to beat evil at its game, strong enough to enforce harsh changes for the better and resilient enough to be the one left standing after a war and doing as much good as possible in this crazy world.”

His eyes darkened with her every word, until those fathomless black pupils engulfed the glowing emerald. She felt as if she was watching a panther in the seconds before he pounced. And she couldn’t wait for him to. Even when she knew she might not survive his ferocity.

Then he did. Growling deep in his gut like his namesake, he brought her fully over him, making her feel she was no more than a twenty-pound baby. It should have been terrifying to realize just how much stronger than her he was. But his roughness was infused with such care, it only sent all her senses soaring.

She tumbled over him, the skirt of her dress riding up as he splayed her thighs wide, had her straddling him. The moment she felt him fully against her, between her legs, she almost fainted with the spike of arousal. Then his lips opened over her neck, and she did swoon. Her head fell back, giving him fuller access, surrendering to his pleasuring.

She needed this, needed him, come what may.

“You feel and taste even better than I imagined. Jenan...”

She jerked as if at the sting of a lash when he said her name. She’d never liked her full name. Now it inflamed her to hear it on his lips, in that voracious growl. But he was sending her out of her mind with everything he did. The way he moved against her, breathed her in, touched and kneaded and suckled her... It was all too much.

And too little. She needed more. Everything. His mouth and hands all over her, his potency inside her.

“Numair...”

At hearing her moaning his name, the same desperation she felt reverberating inside her seemed to emanate from his body in shock waves. Then he swept her around and brought her under him on the couch, then bore down on her.

The world disappeared again, nothing remaining in her awareness but his greed and urgency and lust dominating her.

Spreading her thighs around his hips, he pressed between them, his hardness grinding against her entrance through their clothes. Her back arched deeply to accommodate him, a cry tearing from her very recesses at the feel of him, the sight of him above her.