“Too much,” she gasped. “So much. Please. Keep going.”
He held her thighs open with firm hands, muting the buck of her hips as he took his time, seeming to recognize when she was on the brink of climax, then slowing to hold her on that plateau, forcing her to languish in that place of mindlessly unbearable perfection.
She stroked her fingers into his hair again, thinking this was ridiculous and far too personal, but she didn’t care. She only wanted him to keep doing this forever, yet she could barely withstand the intensity of this pleasure. Not much longer. Couldn’t. Absolutely couldn’t bear it.
He pressed his mouth over her with firm possession, causing her to hit the crest of her wave with a cry of loss and triumph. Her entire body shuddered as the climax rolled through her in powerful waves.
He remained attentive, ensuring every last pulse was teased to its fullest degree, until she was spent and splayed, panting in the dark. She felt the dampness on her lashes against the arm she threw over her eyes. Yes, that had been so good, she had wept from the power of it.
He lifted away from her but remained between her legs so she couldn’t close them. She was aware of his rapid movements, heard his shaken breath, then his long, jagged, relieved sigh.
She dropped her arm and blinked, trying to see him in the absolute dark.
“Did you—?”
“Yes.” He stretched out beside her.
She felt a little cheated. Her hands itched to explore him.
He only turned her so she was spooned into his front. Her nightgown was still up around her hips, but he stopped her from trying to pull it down between them.
“Let me feel you against me.” His hand smoothed up her hip, then down to settle on her abdomen. His lips touched her shoulder. “Think about how good it will be when I’m inside you and we come together.”
When? Did he really want to wait until after their formal ceremony?
The naked contact with him was delicious. In fact, latent desire made the flesh of her mound tingle at the proximity of his hand. He might have given himself release, but he was still firm against her bare buttocks and she was already wondering how it would feel to have him moving inside her while she shattered. She didn’t know if she wanted to wait until tomorrow morning, let alone two weeks from now.
Which had no doubt been his plan all along. Ruthless, vexing man.
His arm around her grew heavy as he relaxed into sleep, but she continued to blink into the darkness. She was starting to realize the power she had handed him by letting him take her to such heights. He was in her head now, making her eager to feel exactly what he had suggested. Him, moving inside her while they shattered in unison. He was making her want what he willed.
How would she take herself back from that?
* * *
Karim left his wife sleeping soundly beneath the light blanket. He was hard as titanium, more than primed to fully consummate his marriage, but he was master of himself. Not her. Not this need he had stoked by pleasuring her last night.
It was a toss-up as to which of them had enjoyed that more, much to his consternation. Had it been self-indulgent to offer himself like that? Absolutely. When he had settled beside her, he had had no intention of touching her.
But he did want this marriage to work. He did expect progeny from her. And yes, maybe his ego had been stinging from that remark she’d made about not desiring his children. He had definitely wanted to remind her that she desired him. That there was something he offered her that no one else could.
Maybe he had needed to prove it to himself, a dark voice whispered. Maybe he had wanted to prove he could pleasure her without losing command of himself—which he very nearly had. If she had invited him to deflower her, he would have been lost completely.
No, all he had proved last night was that the sexual connection between them was so potent, he couldn’t entirely trust himself to be alone with her. It was exactly the depth of irrational passion he refused to succumb to the way his father had.
He would wait until they were formally married, if only to prove he could.
To that end, he steeled himself and stepped out to the cool morning air, found clean clothes for both of them in the helicopter, then did his preflight check while tribesmen brushed the sand off the blades and footings. He was drinking coffee with the men on the far side of the camp when Galila emerged from their tent in the linen pants and T-shirt the women had taken in to her.
Her gaze scanned the encampment until she found him. Pink stained her cheeks and sensual memory softened her expression. Her tentative smile invited him to smile back.
It took everything in him to stay rooted where he was and not cross to touch her. A nearly overwhelming pull urged him to move forward and press her back into their tent for the kind of lovemaking that drummed like a beat in his groin. A kiss, at least.
He confined himself to a cool nod of acknowledgment.
He was already glancing away when he saw her expression stiffen. He glanced back and her lashes had swept down. She quickly gave her attention to some children who approached, but her cheer seemed forced. She didn’t look his way again as she was drawn into the circle of women and children.
His blood stayed hot with memory as he watched her. Her response to him had been exquisite. Explosive. Everything he could want in a wife—if he wasn’t a man who knew there was a high cost to high passion. Seducing her had been a pleasure and a strategic move, but it had also been something that could all too easily take him over if he wasn’t careful.
He watched her charm that side of the encampment as he continued his discussion with the elders in this tribe.
Karim might not have known Adir al-Zabah was his half brother, but he had heard the name through the years. Adir was renowned in the desert for his toughness and strong leadership, very much revered among the nomads. They couldn’t tell Karim what family Adir had come from, however. His parents were unknown.
They asked why he was inquiring, but he brushed aside his questions as idle curiosity. The burden of secrets was his alone to carry.
* * *
The way the women and children adulated her was a much-needed balm to Galila’s ego after Karim had barely acknowledged her this morning. She knew it was pathetic that she drank up this sort of starstruck wonder like water, but it filled a hollow spot her mother had carved with the hot-cold sway of her affections.
Sometimes Galila wondered if her desire for validation and appreciation ran deeper than that, and was a shared character flaw she had inherited from her mother. Perhaps it wasn’t just an enjoyment of being recognized, but an expectation of glorification. Her mother had always acted as if the way her husband doted on her was natural and something to which she was entitled.
That certainly wasn’t something Galila could anticipate from her husband, she acknowledged with a clench of hurt when he sent a young boy over to relay the message that it was time to leave.
She made promises to the women of supplies and aid as she said goodbye, enjoying the way they blessed her and touched her arms, asked her to kiss a baby and pray for a good marriage for the unmarried girls among them.
Karim waited until they were airborne and waving down at the Bedouins before speaking to her. They were connected via the microphone on the headsets again, making the communication feel almost more like a phone call. “You don’t have to send anything. I asked the men. They don’t need anything.”
She heard something like her brothers’ disparaging cynicism in his tone. They didn’t buy regard with magnanimous acts the way she seemed to try to.
“It is a mark of pride among them, I’m sure, to insist that they meet the needs of their women without help,” she responded. “It’s little things. Teething gel for the boy who was crying. Feminine supplies for the young girl who is too embarrassed to ask for it. Things that aren’t easy to come by out here. If you don’t want to pay for it, I will.” She had ample funds that had been set aside for her as part of her marriage contract.
“Of course, I’ll pay for it,” Karim said impatiently.
She curled the corner of her mouth. All men were created equal when it came to impugning their pride, apparently.
He didn’t realize how happy she was to spend other people’s money on the needs of the less fortunate, however.
She quickly accepted his offer, adding, “I would appreciate very much if I could say you underwrote the things I send, since I also want to include some books for the girls. There seems to be controversy as to whether education is for all the children. It would go a long way if you made it clear you expect everyone to learn to read, not just the boys.”
“I do.” He wore a scowl as they approached the outskirts of Nabata, as if the remark struck a nerve.
Someone hailed him and he relayed an expected time of arrival, then returned to speaking to her.
“I realize we’ve fallen behind our neighbors in some ways. When my father was alive, my mother spearheaded women and children initiatives, but she has largely been not much more than a figurehead since his death. Without strong leadership, things have stagnated, rather than continuing to progress. Would you take up that mantle?”
Her first instinct was to leap on the opportunity. In Khalia, she had been her mother’s envoy, often earning the credit but not receiving it. There were many times when she hadn’t agreed with her mother’s decisions, but had had to go along with her because she was a loyal subject of the queen and a dutiful daughter.