The Sheikh's Prize(17)

'Look at me and tell me you don't want me,' Zahir growled.

And she looked and lingered on those lean, darkly handsome features and   lost, blue eyes fearlessly clashing with smouldering gold, and then it   was as if a knot were unfurling faster and faster inside her,  unleashing  a disturbing blast of emotions and responses that shook her  inside out.  But even then in the midst of that gathering storm she knew  that no way  would she ever sink low enough to become his mistress.  Yes, she wanted  him, but no, she would never take what he was offering  because the price  was too high.                       
       
           



       

Saffy parted her lips. 'I don't want you enough for that...'

Zahir glowered down at her. 'Liar.'

Saffy tossed her head. 'You can't bully me into giving you the answer you want-'

'I don't bully you. I have never bullied you,' Zahir countered wrathfully.

'You've very domineering.'

'You like it,' he told her with a roughened edge to his voice, lush   black lashes low over his gaze as he watched the tip of her tongue snake   out to moisten her lower lip.

'I like my men civilised,' Saffy shot back scornfully.

'But you still want me,' Zahir framed with hungry intensity.

'As I said...not enough to become your personal, private slut,' she   spelt out succinctly, but her breathing pattern was fracturing, her   tension so great as he came closer that it was like a tightening band   constraining her lungs.

'Prove it,' he said, backing her up against the wall, winding long brown   fingers into her golden hair to anchor her in place, and drew her head   up.

Saffy trembled, pink flying into her cheeks. 'No kissing, no anything,' she warned him. 'I won't let you do this to me-'

And being Zahir, who had a lot in common with an express train when he   was set on a goal, he simply ignored her, bending his head, nuzzling her   throat, licking a delicate path along her collarbone with such erotic   skill that the pulse there went crazy. Her hands knotted into fists at   her side to prevent herself from touching him even while the lips he  had  so far ignored tingled and burned for attention.

'And how dare you offer me that option?' Saffy continued heatedly, her rancour on that point unforgotten.

'He who does not dare loses,' Zahir traded with assurance, welding his   hard, demanding mouth to hers in an explosion of passion that sent her   heart racing and the blood pumping insanely fast through her veins.

'What the heck are you playing at?' she gasped strickenly, appalled by   the insidious weakness spreading through her lower limbs and the glow of   heat and yearning firing up low in her pelvis.

'I'm not playing,' Zahir said thickly, returning to plunder her mouth,   sliding his tongue in and out between her parted lips and then delving   deep in a sensual assault that made tiny shudders rack her tall, shapely   frame. He pressed her back against the wall and even through the   barrier of the suit she could feel him hard and urgent and ready. 'I   want you. I have wanted you every day since you left Maraban... I can't   sleep for wanting you!'

And although words were easy to say and often empty, something still   quickened and tightened inside Saffy's chest when he admitted that she   exerted that much influence over him. Her robe came undone as he jerked   it loose, sliding a hand below it to trail his fingers up her inner   thigh. Instantly every sense went on red alert. In that moment she   wanted him to touch her more than she had ever wanted anything and she   went rigid with anticipation, unable to breathe for longing. She burned;   she ached. And then with one stroke of his clever fingers he found her   and an agonised moan was wrenched from her as he toyed with her tender   flesh, rubbing the tiny bud that controlled her until she strained   against him, whimpering, quivering, helpless with need while he explored   the slick, hot heat between her legs and she gasped under his  marauding  mouth. Time had no meaning for her. Indeed it felt as if the  world had  speeded up because she was so frantically impatient, every  skin cell  reaching for the climax her body was so desperate to  experience.

Zahir paused and she heard the sound of a zip, the crackle of foil and   she blinked like someone coming out of the dark into the light, but her   hunger didn't abate even a little when she met stunning   coal-black-fringed golden eyes alight with desire. She trembled, tried   to reason and discovered that she was quite incapable of logic in the   grip of the uncontrollable need clawing at her like a kind of   madness...terrifying and overwhelming, utterly shameless in its   single-minded focus.

'I cannot take you to another man's bed,' Zahir growled, snaking one arm   round her waist to lift her off her feet. 'Wrap your legs round me,'  he  urged.

And she did, hungry for him to put his mouth back on hers, unbearably   hungry for him to touch her again. Her arms locked round his neck to   steady herself and he braced her against the wall while he angled his   hips and lowered her until she felt the smooth, hot crown of his bold   shaft pushing against her most tender flesh. Her eyes widened to their   fullest, her head rolling back on her shoulders as he slowly, strongly   pressed his passage up into her tight sheath. Her excitement went into a   tailspin as he stretched her with his fullness, his grunt of all-male   satisfaction vibrating sexily in her ear. He angled her back, withdrew   from her achingly tender flesh and then brought her down again hard,   sending shockwaves of sensation pounding through her lower body.                       
       
           



       

'You're so tight,' he growled through gritted teeth, repeating the   movement until he was fully seated inside her. 'You feel so good. I   would kill for this!'

'Don't stop!' she cried, shivering as another wild, exhilarating wave of   pleasure-pain pulsed through her pelvis, pushing the excitement higher   until it was all-consuming and she was battered by both frustration  and  uncontrollable need.

'I couldn't...' Zahir husked, positioning his hips, grinding against her   and withdrawing before driving home again hard. Over and over he   repeated that movement until she was literally roused to screaming   point.

And the first throbbing upsurge of climax splintered through her like a   lightning bolt then and she cried out as the successive spasms of   intense pleasure rippled through her. He came with a shudder and a shout   and slowly, gently, lowered her legs back down to the floor, which was   unfortunate because her legs didn't want to hold her up. She tipped   forward as he balanced her, hands strong on her slim shoulders, and he   kissed her breathless in the interim before lifting his tousled dark   head and saying with typical practicality, 'Where's the bathroom?'

She told him and had to stagger back against the wall to stay upright.   She was feeling horribly dizzy. Shock was tearing through her every bit   as powerfully as the orgasm had. He had had her against the wall and it   had been hideously, horribly thrilling but she didn't want to accept   that she had not only let that happen but urged him on to commit that   sin. Her knees wanted to give way but she wouldn't let them. With   shaking hands, she tied the sash on her robe and covered herself up. A   little late, a snide voice remarked in her brain and she squashed it.   Her body was still pulsing from his possession and she was weak as   water, drained by disbelief at what she had allowed to take place   between them.

'Are you OK?' Zahir asked huskily from the doorway.

Saffy shot him a look from below her tumbled hair that would have   slaughtered a weaker man where he stood. 'Not really,' she answered   truthfully.

'You're very pale-perhaps you should sit down.'

Saffy dropped down onto the nearest sofa, lowered her head and breathed   in slow and deep while she fought to reclaim her composure. Her head  was  swimming, her skin damp with perspiration and she felt slightly  sick.

'When would you like to move out?' Zahir enquired smoothly. 'Give me a   date and I will have all the arrangements made for you. There will be no   hassle, no inconvenience-'

'Move out?' Saffy questioned blankly. 'I'm not moving anywhere!'

'You can't continue to live here with McDonald.'

With unsteady hands Saffy caught up her trailing hair and shoved it back   from her clammy face as she clumsily sat up. 'What just happened was a   bad idea. A really bad idea and letting you keep me in an apartment   somewhere as a mistress is never going to happen, Zahir. Just accept   that.'