After a deep, drugging kiss, he broke away to press his mouth against her skin, her shoulder, her neck, and then down. He lifted her breast and cupped it so that he could zero in on her throbbing nipple, sucking and pulling the taut peak into his mouth, nipping with his teeth until Liyah was squirming, her every nerve-ending on fire.
Suddenly Sharif reared back and said throatily, ‘Put your legs around me.’
Liyah kicked off her shoes, and when he lifted her up she locked her legs around his hips. The centre of her body came into contact with his, the flimsy lace of her underwear no barrier. She bit her lip, fighting not to beg because she knew that he was going to ease the burning ache in her core right here, right now.
He reached between them and she heard a faint rip. Her underwear. She didn’t care. He guided the head of his erection to her centre, to where she was weeping with need. He looked at her as he teased her, lubricating his own body with the slick evidence of her desire.
And then, just when she thought she could take no more, he thrust deep, stealing her breath and her sanity. She was so primed that it took only a few deep, hard strokes to push her over the edge, and then her body clamped around Sharif’s as he found his own release, his hips jerking in the aftermath of a storm so fast and intense they couldn’t move for long moments.
Slowly Liyah began to put the shattered pieces of herself back together. She became aware of Sharif’s arm around her waist. His other hand was by her head, against the door. His face was buried in her neck, his breath uneven. Warm. Their hearts were pounding. Skin slick with perspiration.
Sharif lifted his head slowly. Liyah couldn’t look away. She was aware that she’d never been more exposed, but she couldn’t seem to care.
To her surprise, Sharif caught a piece of wayward hair and tucked it behind her ear. He said, ‘Okay?’
She felt emotional again. She nodded quickly in a bid to distract him. To distract herself. ‘Fine.’
When Sharif put her down gently, Liyah winced at the loss of connection. Her dress was ruched up to her waist and the top had fallen down, baring her breasts. Her underwear was strewn on the ground, as were her bag, Sharif’s jacket and shirt and tie. Her shoes...
She pulled her dress up and bent to pick up her underwear. When she reached for the shoes Sharif took her hand and pulled her up.
‘Leave them.’
He’d pulled his trousers up, but the button was still open. He looked thoroughly disreputable and dangerous, and Liyah’s over-stimulated body pulsed back into life.
He tugged her behind him. She followed on legs like jelly, holding her dress up. ‘Where are we going?’
He looked back at her and smiled wickedly. ‘To continue discussing this renegotiation.’
Sharif stood looking down at the sleeping form of his wife for a long moment. She was sprawled on her front, one arm raised. He could see the plump flesh of one breast. Her lush bottom. Those long legs that had wrapped around him like a vice, holding him, pulling him so deep inside her that he’d seen stars.
His blood ran thickly in his veins in an overload of pleasure. He’d never experienced this after sex.
Liar.
He made a face to acknowledge the fact that he had. Once before. With the same woman.
The confirmation that her effect on him was still as potent was disturbing. Sex for him was usually a momentary thing, a passing release of energy. This was something else. Something he didn’t want to investigate.
Because surely it would burn out.
It was nothing more than extraordinary chemistry.
He assured himself that he was merely taking advantage of an unprecedented situation—the fact that he wanted his convenient wife. If anything, not having to feign intimacy would help his cause. And, more importantly, it would defuse her ability to distract him.
But then Sharif became aware that he was still standing there, captivated by his sleeping wife. So much for not being distracted. He’d been due at a meeting half an hour ago.
With a scowl marring his features, and his body resisting leaving her behind, Sharif left the bedroom.
When Liyah woke she felt as if she was floating in a soft silken ocean. Every limb was heavy and
utterly relaxed. There was a hum in her blood. A hum of satisfaction. But also of...hunger.
Her eyes snapped open as a rush of X-rated memories assailed her from last night. Sharif bringing her to his room, stripping her bare before stripping off his remaining clothes. Laying her on the bed and spreading her legs so that he could put his mouth to her...
Liyah put a hand over her face and groaned softly. She’d been so wanton. Begging for more. He’d made love to her over and over again. Until they’d been limp with exhaustion and pink trails had coloured the Paris sky outside.
She opened her eyes again. And now it was bright daylight. She felt disorientated. She was not used to sleeping in.