Woman in a Sheikh's World

No, but it made her vulnerable. ‘I missed having someone to argue with, that’s true.’ She made the mistake of opening her eyes at that moment and met the heat in his. His mouth curved into a slow, sexy smile of complete understanding.

‘Of course, you missed the arguments and that is all. You didn’t miss this—’ eyes half shut, he stroked a hand down her body and she gasped ‘—or this—’ he moved his hand lower still and this time she moaned ‘—and you definitely didn’t miss this.’

This had her writhing under him but he denied her the satisfaction she craved, easing away slightly when she arched her hips against him.

‘Do you realise that the only time you show your feelings is when we’re in bed together?’ His voice was husky and he pinned her arms above her head, holding her captive. ‘Apart from the scorpion sting, the only time I’ve ever seen you vulnerable is when you’re in my bed.’

‘It wasn’t always your bed. Sometimes it was my bed.’ Her heart was thumping because of course she was vulnerable. Terrifyingly so, naked in every way. All of her exposed to this man who

saw so much and yet still insisted on more.

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re so afraid?’

‘Afraid?’ She tugged gently at his hands but he held her firmly. ‘I’m not afraid.’

‘If you’re not afraid then stop trying to free yourself.’ His mouth trailed over her shoulder, his tongue slow and explicit as he traced her skin. ‘If you’re not afraid then you should just trust me not to hurt you. It shouldn’t be hard.’

It was the hardest thing in the world, to put her safety in the hands of another person. To trust her heart to the one person in the world who could break it. It was too much to ask. He wanted her to surrender something she couldn’t surrender. To submit to something that terrified her because she knew that whatever he gave, he could also take away.

His mouth moved lower, his tongue flicked her nipple and a low moan of pleasure escaped her.

‘Mal—’

‘Trust me not to hurt you.’ He murmured the words against her skin, against her body, already damp from his tongue and shivering with an excitement so intense it was impossible to keep still. She squirmed and her breath caught at the feel of him, the rough hardness of his thigh and the thickness of his penis as his powerful body brushed against hers. The extent of his arousal mirrored hers and she tried to wrap her arms around him and urge him on but he held her hands fast so that she had no choice but to submit to his will.

Struggling to stay in control, to stay in charge, Avery closed her eyes and blocked out the sensual gleam in those dark eyes. As always, he drove her to the edge. Even with her eyes closed she felt restraint slip. She couldn’t remember actually why she was trying to prevent this happening. Excitement engulfed her in great waves until she was drowning in sensation, the feelings of her body colliding with her fears.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive tips of her breasts, his touch so skilled that she felt the sensation deep inside her. She squirmed, her hips shifting against the luxurious sheets, but he showed her no mercy. A moan escaped her lips but his response to that was to slide his hand between her legs, to apply his expertise to that part of her that now ached for his touch. And touch her he did, those long, strong fingers shamelessly knowing as he drove her wild, controlling her response and easing back as he felt the first ripple of her body.

‘No. Not yet.’

Denied the completion she craved, she moaned against his mouth. ‘Not fair.’

‘I want you. All of you.’ He murmured the words against her mouth and she parted her lips and tried to steal a kiss but with her hands held and her body trapped beneath the powerful strength of male muscle, she wasn’t the one in control. He kept his mouth just out of reach of hers, close enough to drive her crazy and make her desperate for his kiss, not close enough for her to take control.

‘Mal—’

‘I want you to trust me.’ He spoke softly but there was no mistaking the command in his voice and had they been in a different position she would have smiled because he just couldn’t help himself. Even now, in this position of extreme intimacy, he had to be in control.

‘I don’t trust anyone but myself.’

‘Up until now that might have been true—’ His fingers, placed tantalizingly close to that delicate part of her, traced her so gently, so skilfully that the exquisite pleasure swelled to something close to pain. Her body throbbed with her need for him and he knew it. She knew he knew it because she felt his smile against her mouth as he finally lowered his head to hers and gave her what she’d craved. His tongue slid over hers, bold, demanding and unashamedly sensual while all the time his fingers worked magic. And still he held her hands. Still he held her trapped and the ease with which he did it confirmed that physically he was the stronger, but she couldn’t allow herself to surrender in the way he wanted her to surrender.

‘Let go of me. I want to touch you.’

‘No. For now, I’m the one in charge. The sooner you acknowledge that, the sooner I let you go.’ His hand pushed her thighs wider and with a single smooth movement he was inside her. Deep, sure but achingly slow and gentle and that control on his part tore at the last straining threads of hers.

She moaned and he withdrew slightly and then moved again, deeper this time, his hand on her hip, controlling her movements. The look in his eyes made it hard to catch her breath and she wanted to close hers, to block him out, but something in her wouldn’t allow it so the connection continued, deepening an experience that was already terrifying.

It had never been like this before. The sex had always been amazing and each time had been different but never, ever had it felt like this. Never this close. Never this—personal.

He’d never demanded this much from her and she’d never given this much.

She felt the strength of him, the power of him stretching her, possessing her and she wrapped her legs around him, always active, never passive and he smiled against her lips because he recognised that need in her. He knew her so well. He knew all of her and she tried again to block him out because the level of intimacy was terrifying. She was bound, not by the fact that he held her hands, but by the fact that he held her heart. If she begged him, he’d let her hands go. Physically, she’d be free. Emotionally, she knew she’d never be free. He was the only man she wanted. He was the only man she’d ever wanted and those feelings bound her to him as securely as if she’d been handcuffed.

‘Stop fighting it—’ he kissed her slowly ‘—stop fighting me and pushing me away.’

‘I’m not pushing you. Thanks to you, I can’t move.’