The Sheikh's Last Seduction

He shoved her back against the marble, kissing her as if he’d lost his mind, and she kissed him back with equal force, because she’d certainly lost hers. They held each other in a frenzy of mutual passion and need. He roughly started pulling off his clothes, ripping off his shirt, then his trousers. Above the hiss of water dripping against hot coals on the other side of the darkened, domed room, empty of everything except the six-sided marble slab surrounding the illuminated blue water of the pool and the pinpoints of light above, she heard the gasp of his breath as he pulled her back hungrily into his arms. His hands swept down her naked skin, and she touched him all over, realizing he was naked, too. Naked against her, in the hot, steamy hammam, suspended directly between heaven and hell.

She kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip, gasping as she felt his hands cup her aching breasts. He licked up her neck, sucked on the tender flesh of her earlobe, then moved down her body, tasting every inch of her as he went down, down to the valley between her breasts.

“I’ve wanted you—for so long,” he choked out. “For months I’ve thought only of you—”

He pushed her full breasts together with his large hands, pressing his lips in the cleavage between before he moved to suckle her. She cried out. She’d never felt any sensation like this before. Never imagined what it could be.

She twisted on the marble as he moved down her body, his wet, hard body sliding slowly against hers. He gripped her hips, then went down farther. She trembled beneath him as his fingertips traced the outside edge of her body, her waist to hips to knees, all the way to the sensitive soles of her feet, which he kissed, one by one. Then he slowly moved upward, pushing her legs apart—kissing to her inner knees—upward, upward...

He used his powerful hands to part her thighs. He lowered his head. Irene suddenly couldn’t breathe, as she felt the warmth and heat of his breath against her most sensitive core. If some part of her was screaming that she had to stop, stop this now, she wouldn’t let herself hear it. Later. She’d let herself think later. When her body wasn’t on fire with need for him... For only him....

He inhaled, exhaled, as if breathing her into the rhythm of his own heart. Then he moved his head closer and licked her inside thigh. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted in a gasp. He moved up higher, gripping her legs, holding her down against the marble. Finally, with agonizing slowness, he lowered his head.

He took a long, lingering taste between her legs, so deep and slow that her hips bucked with the intense wave of pleasure that crashed over her, nearly drowning her with desire and need.

“Sharif...” she gasped. “You...you can’t...”

But he could. And he did. Using his mouth and tongue, he teased her, using her body as if he’d known it all his life. As if he knew it better than she did. She twisted beneath him, side to side, nearly weeping with the weight of her desire. She would do anything. Anything.

As he continued to lick and suckle her aching wet core, she felt him push a single thick fingertip inside her. Then another. He invaded her tight, virgin body, slowly stretching her with his fingertips, as she expanded to accept him inside her. Caught in the onslaught of brutal pleasure she’d never imagined possible, her body went tighter and tighter still, as her hips lifted of their own accord. Her lips parted with a long intake of breath that seemed to go on and on and on, until she felt dizzy beneath the shadows and light of the Turkish bath, beneath Sharif himself, as the world spun around her, and sent her flying.

She hung on to his shoulders with her fingernails as she flew and flew. She heard a scream as the black-and-white world exploded into a million bright colors, and fell, chiming like music.

Sharif moved over her almost instantly, lifting his body so that the thick hardness of him was between her legs, demanding entry.

She lay beneath him, limp with pleasure, unable to resist. Not wanting to resist. Any thoughts she’d once had of the future or honor were washed away from her mind, like sand beneath an ocean wave. Who cared about something so unimportant as the future? What was that, compared to this?

He drew back his hips, to plunge inside her.

Her eyes lifted to his face. Even this close, she couldn’t see his face. All she could see was shadow.

The moment before he would have entered her, he hesitated. He held himself still.

Then, with a low curse, he rolled off her.

It took several moments before she realized he wasn’t coming back. She blinked, struggling to understand, to awaken from the sensual haze.

Something white flew toward her. Looking down at her lap, she saw a towel. He’d thrown her a towel?