Seduced by the Sultan(42)

                For a moment she didn’t answer; she was too busy blinking as her eyes accustomed themselves to the sudden brightness. Shoving her phone down into the bottom of her handbag, she shrugged.

                ‘I’m all for saving on electricity costs,’ she said carelessly. ‘I thought you’d approve—after all, you’re the man who’s ploughing his money into wind farms and researching different sources of alternative energy.’

                ‘Very funny. Why did you leave the dinner so abruptly?’

                ‘Because...because I suddenly realised I was crazy to agree to come here and...’ Her words tailed off as she thought about her sister’s texts. Maybe she should tell him that she needed to go back to Wales and maybe she should tell him why. And yet... She bit down hard on her bottom lip. How could she bring herself to tell him something like that when they were on the verge of parting for ever? Did she want to be forever remembered as the daughter of a drunk? She felt a flicker of stubborn pride. Her mother’s illness was none of Murat’s business. She met his eyes. ‘And I’d like to go back to England as soon as possible.’

                His face hardened.

                ‘Is this your way of playing games?’ he demanded. ‘Of demonstrating how much power you have over me, by seeing how far you can push me?’

                ‘Of course it isn’t.’

                ‘I thought we’d agreed that you were going to stay for a couple of days.’

                She stared down at the floor, unwilling to meet the angry gleam in his eyes. ‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’

                ‘Oh, really?’ His voice was silky. ‘Then maybe I should see if I can change it back for you again.’

                She should have realised exactly what method he would use and if she’d been thinking straight, she might have given herself time to psych herself up and remain immune to him. But she wasn’t thinking straight and therefore she had no defence when Murat reached out and pulled her into his arms.

                Instinct took over. She could feel every hard sinew of his body as she melted against him. And the startled breath she sucked in did her no favours, because it left her completely accessible to the urgent pressure of his lips as he bent his head to kiss her.

                Her hands went up to his shoulders to push him away, but as he deepened the kiss she felt herself clinging on—and then some.

                ‘Murat,’ she groaned as he began to ruck up her dress, his hands skating beneath the delicate fabric to smooth themselves over her thighs.

                But he didn’t seem to be listening to her half-hearted protest; he was too busy tugging her panties down. The delicate scrap of lace fluttered to the floor as he carried her over to the bed and laid her down on it. His thumb was on her clitoris and the gasping little groan she made in response was quickly silenced by another kiss.

                Her desire was spiralling out of control and as he pulled away from her she heard the unsteady rasp of a zip. In the throes of something which felt so wrong and yet so irresistibly good, her lashes fluttered open to see Murat kicking off his trousers. His arousal was heart-stoppingly evident and the fierce look of hunger on his face made her grow weaker still.

                And then he was positioning himself over her—on her and in her—thrusting into her so deeply that she opened her mouth to scream with pleasure. But he anticipated her cry and drowned it with another kiss.

                It was a frantic, wordless coupling—one in which they couldn’t seem to get enough of each other. She had never known Murat quite so out of control before. He bit at her breasts and she bit him back and her orgasm seemed to be torn from some deep, dark place inside her. It ripped her open and left her breathless and dazed. More dazed than she had ever been. Because she knew this was the last time?