“No, instead he’ll spoil our son.” She turned and faced him. “And you know I know nothing about buildings. But I’ve been thinking we should set up a division of MM Catering here in Sharjah. Oh, and I got a letter from Nasiji. She’s settled in Paris and is starting a cooking school.”
Ahmed laughed. “Nasiji knows how to cook?”
“No, but apparently Jamul does and adores good food. She swears he is going to get fat, so she sends him to the gym every day.”
Ahmed shook his head. “Poor Jamul.”
“Poor Jamul, nothing. He signed up for it and is probably as happy as a cat in cream.”
“Perhaps we should visit them. Take a second honeymoon?”
She smiled. “I didn’t know the first one was over.”
Ahmed glanced around them. “Listen. There is no Caius demanding our attention. Instead, he is wrapping my father around his little fingers.”
Melanie smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Just what are you suggesting? That we ignore this breathtaking view?”
“Oh, I was thinking of taking your breath in other ways.”
“Really? You know, New York is probably just waking up right now. And you’re right, our son should know both this world as well as his American world.”
Ahmed gave a low hum. “There is something poetic in that, though I cannot seem to find it.”
Leaning down, he kissed her. He straightened and said, “I told you I was lucky—and I was more than lucky to follow you out of that hotel suite and then to seduce you.”
“You seduced me, did you? I thought it was mutual.”
“No, I definitely worked my charms on you to bring you to my arms.”
She smiled. “Then you’d better do it again. I have jet lag nipping at me, and I keep thinking about a nice, soft, big bed.”
He grinned. “So it shall be.” Lifting her up, he carried her back inside and down the stairs. She didn’t recognize the room he took her into. Candles lit the way—dozens of them—reflecting bright, yellow glows in mirrors on the walls. She was surrounded by reflected light and her own image.
Ahmed settled her onto the bed, draped with dark, luxuriously soft covers. He lay next to her, looking sleek and lazy as a well-fed cat. A very large, well-fed cat. She put her hands on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, her tired fingers unable to undo even one.
“Let me help,” Ahmed said. He reached down and made short work of the buttons, stripping off his shirt and then hers. Her skin ached for his touch. Her nipples hardened just at the thought of how he could make her body sing.
“Help some more. You’ve been so good to me,” she said sleepily. “What did I do to deserve a prince like you?”
“Oh, you deserve far better than me,” he answered quietly. He undid her bra and tugged off the long shirt she had worn, exposing the black lace panties she wore just because she knew they drove him wild.
He ran his smooth, firm hands back up her legs slowly, kissing her thigh as he wrapped his fingers around the waistband of that thin scrap of lace. He slowly pulled them down until she was naked on the covers.
“You’re being a bad boy—you do know that’s what got you into this to start with?”
“Oh, yes, I do know.” He kissed her gently rounded stomach, sending trembling ripples of pleasure through her. She parted her legs, eager for him.
Sitting up, he pulled off his trousers and stretched out next to her, as naked as she was. His fingers drifted over her hardening nipples.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Ahmed, are you going to torture me?” She reached out to him, seeking his smooth, muscular skin.
“I’m here, habibti. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her, and his lips drifted down to her neck. He sucked hard and then nibbled, leaving her trembling.
Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked his hard cock and the velvety skin. “I want to feel you inside me. I wanted that the first night I met you. I still want it. I’m going to be seventy and still wanting you. Do you know, I dream about the way you filled me—so perfectly. So effortlessly. You do things to me no one ever has.”
She pulled him toward her opening with one hand and spread her lips open to take him in. He sat up on one elbow and pulled her to face him. She threw a thigh over his hips. He pushed into her ever so slightly. Her fingers were wet and she could smell her arousal—warm and sea-scented. Taking her hand, he brought it to his mouth and licked her fingertips. “You taste of heaven, my angel.”
She giggled. “You always get so poetic when we have sex.”
“Ah, no, habibti. This is us making love—beautiful, sensual love.” Leaning forward, he kissed her. She gave a soft moan. He moved his mouth lower, down to her right nipple. Latching onto the hard, aching nub, he sucked it deep into his mouth.