Just like that, the foreplay was over. In her haze of need and desire, she barely felt him move as he freed his cock. One second, his tongue was dragging over her nipple, and the next, he was driving into her.
It had been so long. Pain mixed with pleasure, and he froze, buried to the hilt and panting hard. She could see the strain of control in his face, but she didn’t want control. “No,” she growled. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Bucking against him, she forced him to move, and then control was gone. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She had no idea how long he fucked her, driving her upward until she barely had the breath to scream—but she shattered, and the only sound she could hear was his name, ripped from her lips.
One. Two. Three strokes. He cried out furiously as he jerked within her, and it seemed to take forever before she finally fell back to earth.
8
There was no snuggling in his arms that night. In fact, Asad barely said a word to Liyah as she rose and escaped to her own room. Her body still shuddered in the aftermath of his lovemaking—not that she could even call it lovemaking. That was nothing short of soul-shattering lust, and it was nothing like her fantasies.
It had been better.
Part of her was ashamed that she’d given in so easily. Even her inner logic had failed to urge her to say no, and now everything between them was different. She couldn’t imagine that he’d run hot and cold after this. Most likely, he’d choose one or the other.
He was gone the next morning, leaving nothing more than a short note saying that he was away on business, and he stayed gone for three days.
Not once did he call.
When he did return, he was wired. He paced the hardwood floors, his phone in his hand, unaware that she was watching him. It was like watching a predator, a wildcat, stalking with the refined grace of his sleek body and a strange sense of passion fueling his every deliberate move. But when she opened the door and stepped back, he froze and stared at her. “I didn’t realize that you were home.”
Liyah tried not to take offense. “Did the ploy work?” she asked, even as she tried not to betray her hurt. “I assume that you were away with your investors.”
“It is working. They’ve agreed to fund the money.”
“Good. Then this will all be over soon, and you can have your privacy back.”
Asad murmured her name, but she pretended that she didn’t hear. Instead, she headed out of his suite and to the library, where she could drown herself in the fictitious lives of others and forget all about Asad.
It didn’t work all that well.
The next two days, it felt like she was living in someone else’s body. Asad didn’t abandon her again, but he also didn’t seem to see her. He treated her as though she were made of porcelain, ready to shatter at any minute. Every word he spoke seemed deliberately chosen, every step made to keep his distance from her.
It was perfectly professional, but after that night, with herself pressed between his body and the window, him dragging breathy moans out of her as he stroked her innermost heat, the appropriate conversations were nothing more than an act.
He seemed to refuse to treat her as a lover, but he couldn’t even bring himself to treat her as a person. She hated every single second of it, but she needed the money, and she was afraid of what he might say if she lashed out.
That it had been a mistake. That he didn’t enjoy her nearly as much as she had enjoyed him.
That it was beneath him.
The days turned into a week, and Liyah slowly started to suffocate.
“We have an engagement to attend,” Asad told her one morning, watching her with a carefully guarded gaze. For the past week, he’d had no idea what to do with her. It had taken all of his self-control not to grab her and ravish her again, but part of him feared that she would shatter in his arms. He’d simply wanted to show her that she was a desirable woman, that she didn’t have to hide herself, and instead, he’d completely dominated her. It had been an embarrassing lack of control on his part, and he thought she might hate him for it.
“What kind of engagement?” she asked in a dull tone.
“There is a private gallery showing this evening, a collection of some of Arabia’s finest treasures. I thought you might enjoy it.”
“Are your investors going to be there?”
“Yes.”
Gripping her coffee cup, she nodded her head. “So, this is just another chance to show me off.”
“It is why I hired you,” he reminded her.
“Yes, it is. So you don’t have to pretend that any of this is for my benefit. I’ll consult with Amira on what I should wear. When should I be ready?”