The Sheikh's Sinful Seduction(31)

                His husky whisper, the feel of his breath stirring her hair, brought it all back so she was exactly as she’d been a few hours ago: completely enthralled by him. She bit back a moan and her head felt too heavy for her neck. Her forehead fell against the hard wall of his muscled chest.

                “You’re so sweet, Fern. Like honey.” He drew her to align with his body so she could feel his arousal through their clothes. She pushed the tablet away from between them and let it fall to the sand. His hands molded her with familiarity even as he shuffled her off the path to a place where they had a measure of privacy.

                “This is bad, Zafir. You said so,” she reminded.

                He only braced his back on a palm trunk and opened his legs to make a space for her. She was burning alive, but she snuggled into his heat, arms encircling his neck like her body knew what it was doing even if she didn’t. She angled her head and followed the pressure of his hand in her hair to mate her mouth to his.

                So bad and so good. They kissed like long-lost lovers. Maybe he was using her. Maybe she was being fanciful, but this felt like reunion      . His hands on her were magic, his mouth divine. The evidence of his desire for her was so mysterious and heartening, she couldn’t help pressing into him with gratified joy.

                When he pulled her shirt free and stroked her back, she caught back a moan and searched for his skin, but it was impossible to find. The shape of his chest and ribs were hard and wide, enthralling to her splayed fingers, but the cloth of his thobe was trapped by the press of their bodies.

                He loosened her bra and found her breasts. His knowing hand tenderly caressed her and circled her nipple, making it feel taut and achy. She wriggled her hips into him even more. Oh, she wanted him to suckle at her again.

                “Zafir,” she said, breaking their kiss to gasp. “I want to feel your skin, too.”

                He breathed a ragged curse against her lips and set her back a step, pulling up his thobe from between them. When she burrowed beneath it and discovered the hot skin of his waist, her hands couldn’t get enough. His chest expanded, his abdomen contracted, his chest hair was a fine, intriguing texture traveling in a line downward—

                She gasped as she was realized what grazed her wrist. “You’re naked under here.”

                “I am.” He opened the button at her throat and moved to the next.

                “Can I—”

                “Yes.”

                Looking down but seeing only his sleeve as he continued opening her buttons and the bunched white cotton draping her own arms, she let her fingers hesitantly explore, blind but curious.

                So amazing. His shape was steely under a layer of smooth velvet, and he quivered at her light touch. Taut and aggressive and so thick. She couldn’t imagine how men and women fit together when she held the girth and weight of him in her fist.

                “Am I doing it right?” she asked in an anxious whisper.

                “Harder,” he murmured against her lips, cupping both her breasts beneath her loosened bra and then teasing her nipples so she pinched her legs tight against a pulse of heat.

                She loved this. Loved feeling him tighten in her hand, loved hearing his breath catch and feeling his tongue delve into her mouth as he kissed her and seemed excited by her touch. If she could give him what he’d given her this afternoon, she’d be overjoyed.

                He drew back unexpectedly and she looked into his shadowed face, wondering if it was a trick of the light that his eyelids were so low, his mouth slack with passion.