At this, her eyelashes fluttered open, their feathered darkness revealing a vivid emerald gaze which was tinged with reproach.
‘What else did you have in mind instead of fighting? I’ve just told you that I’m not in the mood for sex and since that’s pretty much your only method of communication, then I imagine you must be stumped about what to do next.’
He leaned over her, inhaling the scent of her clean skin. He felt the unsteady skip of his heart. ‘How about a simple kiss goodnight?’
Catrin stared up into the hawk-like face which was now inches away from hers. She felt...disorientated. As if night had suddenly become day. As if she had woken from a dream into a new world she barely recognised. All she knew was that the balance of power between them had shifted and she was on unfamiliar territory. Suddenly, Murat was on the back foot. He wasn’t demanding from her, or just reaching out and taking. For once he seemed to be seeking her permission—even her approval. And he was about to discover that she wasn’t letting him off that lightly.
She gave him a candid look. ‘It won’t just be a goodnight kiss though, will it? You won’t be satisfied with that.’
‘I may not be satisfied with it,’ he said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it.’
Something in his response made her bite back a reluctant smile and, chastely, she turned her cheek towards him. ‘Oh, very well. One kiss, that’s all.’
But gently, he captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and slowly turned her head around to face him. She saw the flicker of something she didn’t recognise in his eyes before he lowered his head towards hers.
It was a butterfly kiss. The faintest brush of his mouth against hers. Such a grazing touch that it was barely there—but it was enough to set her senses on fire. She could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. She could feel the lick of his saliva, as the tip of his tongue flicked tantalisingly at the entrance to her mouth.
And instantly, she wanted him to insert his tongue fully, to mimic the action of a far greater intimacy which her body was already beginning to crave. Her breasts grew heavy and the honeyed ache deep in her belly made her want to wriggle her body against him.
The hands which had been pillowed behind her head now moved automatically to rest on the bunched muscles of his powerful shoulders. Her fingertips began to dig gentle grooves into the silken flesh as he brought her body close to his.
She could feel his arousal pressing hard against her belly and her blood thickened. She wanted to part her thighs for him. She wanted him to touch her where she was aching to be touched, but even though the effort nearly killed her—she forced herself to pull away.
The way he was looking at her was making her feel vulnerable and she felt a flush of colour creeping into her cheeks. Because she hadn’t seen that expression of indulgence on his face for a long time. Not since... She swallowed.
Not since the first time she’d met him.
Her heart gave a sudden hard thump. What had happened to that woman who had crisply chided him for his lack of manners? Who had treated him like an equal, even though he’d been a customer and she’d been serving behind the bar. She hadn’t known that he was a sultan back then, and she hadn’t cared.
She had allowed herself to become intimidated by his power and position, that was what had happened. She had given Murat complete control over her. She had become weak, over-accommodating and completely compliant. Was it any wonder that he’d started to treat her with such a flagrant lack of respect?