His tongue probed her mouth, fierce and hard, punishing her with its intensity and his fingers rolled both nipples.
It took no time. Minutes, if that, before she was cresting over a wave, pleasure soaking through her. She cried out, screaming, her words rushed and jumbled, incoherent, as stars danced on her eyes.
“Ashad,” she dug her fingernails into his shoulder. He smiled against her mouth but didn’t stop kissing her. His hands reached for his belt; he removed it and discarded it, then his pants. So much for a slow seduction. He couldn’t wait to be with Charlotte.
Literally, he could not wait.
He broke the kiss only to lift his shirt from his head, and toss it across the room, then he was stripping his boxers, revealing himself to her at last. And though she’d felt his arousal on the boat, the sight of him naked filled her with doubt. Not doubts as to what she wanted, but doubts as to what she was capable of. He was enormous. Hard, long, big and tanned, like he was.
She stared at him, and at her look of fear, he forced himself to slow down, to be gentle. He kissed her slowly now, letting her absorb the care he felt for her; the fact he was determined to give her an experience that defied even what they meant to one another.
“All I want is to give you pleasure,” he said quietly. “You will tell me if you feel any pain. Any fear. Anything that isn’t good. Understood?”
She nodded. “I’m not afraid,” she said honestly. “Not because of … my past, anyway. I’m … I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and am about to jump off… feet first… I feel crazy. But good crazy.”
“You are good crazy,” he promised, and he nudged at her entrance. She stared at him, and he kissed her gently, tasting away her fears, promising her the world.
And then, she lifted her legs, parting for him, welcoming him. He pushed into her, so gently, watching her face the whole time. Even when his own body was demanding that he thrust hard and fast he went painfully slowly, giving her a chance to adjust to the new sensations.
She arched beneath him and finally, impatient herself, she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him the rest of the way. Her eyes met his in silent challenge. “I want you,” she said seriously. “I want all of you.”
He nodded, and now he pulled back a little, before taking her again. She moaned as sensations began to radiate through her. Pleasure was pleasure and Ashad was a master at giving it to her body.
He watched her as he’d wanted to from the first moment they met. He saw the way pleasure made her nose crinkle and slammed her eyes shut. He reached for her hair and ran his fingers through it, and he kissed her neck, her shoulders, sought her breasts and rounded her nipples with his tongue. He moved inside of her slowly, carefully, and finally, he felt her muscles squeezing him in their sign of passion.
She was close. He moved quickly now, sending her over the edge at last and she tumbled hard and fast, digging her nails into his back and dragging them down as pleasure sent waves of heat through her body. An intense pleasure that made her want to cry and scream and laugh and shriek. A pleasure that couldn’t be put into words. She held him tight and then he moved and all her pleasure receptors began to sparkle again. She wasn’t done yet, and he knew that.
He stoked her flame anew, driving her to the edge of oblivion and beyond it, sending her into the universe like a shooting star, and then he exploded with her, holding her tight, needing her, wanting her.
It was the middle of the night – no, it was the early hours of the morning, not the witching hour – and though they were both tired, there was an energy bouncing between them.
Charlotte stared at him, her eyes enormous and blinking in her face. “That was beautiful,” she whispered. “Thank you.” Tears clogged the word. “You are … very good at that.”
He laughed, and shook his head. “That wasn’t just me, Charlotte. It was both of us. It’s what we do to each other. What we just shared is not the norm. Trust me.”
Pleasure turned her heart in her chest. “Really?”
His laugh was warm butter. “Really.”
She pushed up, straddling his naked chest. “You’re saying I’m special?”
His eyes were diamond-like, challenging her. “Do you want to be special to me?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Yes.”
“And so you are,” he promised. Wild horses could not have prevented their coming together. It had been written in the stars from the moment they’d met. Perhaps, as Zahir had suggested, fate had even played a part. Maybe there was a reason Syed had sent him to find a way to cancel the wedding. Even the fact that Syed refused to marry Charlotte, despite the fact she was such a suitable bride. Perhaps it was all fated, or written by destiny.
“I know I should be full of regret,” she said quietly. “But I’m not. Is that awful?”
“No.” He reached up and cupped her cheek. “I’m not either.”
Charlotte didn’t feel regret, but she did feel guilt. She hardly knew Syed and yet she had been promised to him. What they’d just done made the prospect of her marriage impossible to contemplate. There was no way Ashad could continue to live in Kalastan when she and Syed were married. How could she look at him and not want him? And not think of him as hers? And, heaven forbid, when he married someone? Would she be expected to socialise with his bride?
Her heart, so flushed with fire, was turning cold.
“What is it?” He asked, attuned to her every mood.
“Nothing,” she promised, shaking her head, dispelling the dark storm clouds that were gathering on her horizon. Nothing important.
And that was true. Nothing was more important than this.
* * *
Several hours later, she reached for Ashad, or perhaps he reached for her. But they tangled together, a knot of limbs and sheets and desire and lust. It was an insatiable need, and they came together as a flame with oil. It was not gentle and slow like the first time; it was explosive. He took her body and owned it. He marked himself on her in a way that was as permanent and undeniable as a tattoo. He was changing her, altering her forever. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and held him tight, and in those sleepy, sensual moments, she wondered how she’d ever turn her back on this. How could she possibly marry another man when there was this?
* * *
The sun broke through the curtains, colouring the room with yellows and gold. Someone was knocking at the door. Charlotte heard it and her heart began to pound. “Ashad!” She shook his shoulder. “Ashad! Someone’s here.”
He was alert instantly. “It’s okay,” he said, but he was impatient with whoever saw fit to interrupt him. His eyes moved to the clock beside him. It was six, his usual hour of waking, and his valet frequently came to him at that time.
He smiled at Charlotte and stood, pausing only to slide a pair of boxer shorts on over his nakedness. He pulled the door inwards and Charlotte slid lower in the bed, pulling the sheet over her head. It smelled of him. She smiled and moaned under her breath. Her insides clenched with desire and she wondered how quickly he’d be back in bed.
She wanted him again.
And again.
And again.
She heard mumbled voices and then the door clicking shut.
He laughed as he ripped the sheet off her, and she joined him. “Who was it?”
He fell on top of her, his smile touching her heart. “My valet.”
“At this hour?”
He shrugged. “It’s when I wake up. He was seeing if I wanted coffee.”
“Mmm, coffee,” she murmured appreciatively.
“A girl after my own heart.” He sobered, stroking her cheek. “How are you this morning?”
Her smile was all confident ease. “I’ll be a thousand percent after coffee.”
“And before it?” He prompted, pushing past her mask with ease.
Her eyes flecked with amber as she met his gaze. “A thousand percent.”
He relaxed visibly. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear it. I thought you might wake with remorse. Regrets.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Worries, yes. But I don’t want to face them yet.”
He cupped her cheeks, his smile giving her relief. “Nor do I. But Charlotte? We will face them together, yes?”
That she could not promise him. After all, he was a part of her worry – a big piece of her problem. And yet she nodded. There was no sense arguing until she knew for certain how she would handle this development.
Life, as she’d seen it, was no longer clear cut. Only a little over a week earlier she had been certain that she would marry Syed and take her place as Sheikh of Kalastan.
Now?
There was only Ashad. She couldn’t see past him. Or was it that she didn’t want to?
He flopped down beside her and rolled her towards his chest, hugging her so tight she could hear the beating of his heart. It was steady and strong; she pressed her ear to his skin and with her fingertips distractedly traced circles up and down his abdomen.
He caught her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth. His kiss was a soft exhalation of breath. It made her heart quiver.
“These fingernails,” he murmured, studying their bright red colour. “From the moment I saw these nails, I knew I was in trouble.”