Devil's Daughter (Devil 2)

She drew a deep breath, and her chin tilted upward. “I do not mean to anger you. It is just that I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do, Arabella?”

He watched her eyes widen and her tongue caress her lower lip. It was a sublimely sensual gesture, and he felt his body leap in response. He drew back, knowing it was but another ploy, but toward what end? “Do you want to bed me? Compare me, the savage barbarian, to your other conquests?”

To his utter surprise, she did not fling angry words at him. She bowed her head in silent submission. His loins tightened and he felt his pulse begin to race. Even as he damned her silently for her effect on him, he rose gracefully to tower over her.

“Come, Arabella, I wish also to compare you to my other women.”

She raised her face to his. Again her tongue moved unconsciously over her lower lip. Her mouth felt dry with fear. “You will not hurt me?”

“Hurt you? I would not hurt you even if that is what pleased you.”

Her eyes went blank at his words.

Damn her. When would she cease acting? He stretched out his hand to her. For a moment Arabella gazed at his hand, at his strong fingers, their blunt tips. Bronze hairs covered the back of his hand, and she shuddered at the image of his hands on her.

She closed her eyes a moment, drawing strength from herself. She had naught but her body, and her body would be all of her that he would possess. He would not touch any other part of her. Slowly she rose to her knees and raised her hand to his. She felt his warmth as he drew her to her feet.

“Your hand is cold, Arabella,” he said, pulling her gently against him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She felt his arms close around her back.

He held her, lightly stroking his hands down her back. He felt her quiver but knew it was not from desire, not yet. “Give over, Arabella,” he said against her temple. “I will give you pleasure. It is what you desire, is it not?”

His arms slid over her hips and in a swift graceful movement he lifted her into his arms.

“Your shoulder.”

“I shall survive.”

She forced herself to wind her arms around his neck and lay her face against his shoulder.

Kamal smiled grimly. She was soft and giving now. He eased her down upon his bed and released her. “You are made for pleasure.”

“I do not understand this pleasure you speak of.”

“Do you not?” Why did she continue to lie to him? He stepped back, unfastened the leather belt at his waist, and drew off his white shirt.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Arabella said, raising her hand to touch the white bandage

.

Kamal drew back, then sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. When he rose he was wearing only his trousers. His hands were on the buttons when he chanced to look down at her. He saw fear and embarrassment in her eyes. Did she dislike naked men? He shook his head, suddenly angry with her, and stripped off his trousers. He straightened slowly and watched her eyes fall down his body.

Arabella felt herself go cold at the sight of him. He was more beautiful than any of the statues in the Parese gardens, and more frightening. The golden hair that was sprinkled over his chest narrowed to a straight line down his flat belly, then bushed out at his groin. His sex was swollen, thrust out from his groin, and she could not imagine how he could come inside her.

She was unaware that Kamal was standing quietly watching her reaction to his body.

He sat down beside her, and she tried to pull away, but he pressed her onto her back. She could feel the heat of him. He clamped his arms on either side of her, holding her still.

“Arabella,” he said, and lowered his head.

She breathed in the scent of him, sweet and musky, a heady male smell. She felt his mouth lightly touch her forehead, her eyelids, her nose.

“Touch me, Arabella,” he said against her lips.

Slowly she raised her hands and rested them on his chest. She could feel the steady pounding of his heart beneath her palm. He felt so warm, his flesh smooth. Suddenly she felt his tongue probing against her closed mouth and she stiffened. His hand moved to stroke her throat, then upward to caress her chin. “Open your mouth. I want to taste you.”