But he was not done with her.
Lifting up, he shifted his mouth to her lower lips and sought out the honey he had painted on her. She arched and grabbed at his shoulders. Her fluids mixed with the honey in a heady sweetness. He lapped at her, tugging on her clit, licking her, pushing his tongue into her until she cried out and clutched at him.
Sitting up, he pushed her legs wide and positioned the head of his shaft at her opening, rubbing along her slit.
“Condom,” she muttered, her voice thick and slow from her own release.
He shook his head, but stood and went back to his pants to search for one. Thankfully, he had just one tucked into his pocket. He tore it open, his fingers shaking slightly—and that was new. No woman had ever had him so aroused, so in need. With a low growl of frustration he at last got the condom rolled on and came back to her, falling on her like a dying man on water. He slid into her as if she had been made for him—for him and no other man.
With a low, long hum, she wrapped her legs around him.
Holding onto her hips, he pulled out and thrust into her again.
“Yes,” she gasped, clutching at his shoulders, digging in her nails. She tightened her legs around him as if she must pull him into her.
And that was what he wanted—to be lost in her. To lose the world and have nothing but her. He could only hear her ragged breaths, could only feel her heart pounding. Closing his eyes, he let the world fall away until it was just his body joined to hers. Their breaths—rough and uneven—becoming one.
Her body jerked beneath him and she cried out.
With a growl, he pushed deeper into her and his own release swept through him in wave after wave.
He was shaking still as he rolled off her and pulled her close to him. She wrapped one leg over him, muttering, “I think I smeared my henna.”
Bending down, he kissed the corner of her mouth. She gave a sigh and her breathing deepened into sleep.
But he could not find his rest. He was starting to wonder if his words to his father of falling in love at first sight had been the truth.
10
As was his habit, Khalid woke early. He left Casey sleeping. Honey stained the bed linens, but Casey’s henna seemed intact, protected by the honey. That would please his father—and Khalid frowned at the thought.
Why was he so focused on only what his father wanted? Was Casey right? Was he too much like his father? Was that why they always clashed? Khalid had thought it was because his father would not give over any responsibility to anyone—but was it really that Khalid was just as stubborn, just as set in his ways?
He had much to think over.
Heading to his room, he showered and changed. He wanted coffee—he wanted to eat breakfast off Casey’s naked body, instead he was ambushed by his brothers Zaid and Ahmed in the hallway.
“Father wants to see us all,” Zaid said. He looked unusually serious, even for Zaid.
With a shrug, he followed his brothers into his father’s study.
The sultan sat behind a huge glass and steal desk—business for the sultan was always about Western ways and thought. Khalid resisted looking at the portrait of his mother that hung opposite the desk, the only decoration in the room. Her lost still hurt, still left a twist in his chest.
Facing his father, Khalid asked, “What is this about?”
French windows opened onto the garden and let in a still cool morning breeze and the scent of flowers. Standing, the sultan smiled and waved to the slim, tiny woman that Khalid only now noticed, sitting in a corner of the room. “This is about a wedding. About a husband for Fadiyah.”
As if on cue, Mehmood stepped into the room from the garden and moved to the sultan’s side. “Which of you will marry my daughter?”
Khalid fisted his hands and shook his head. “I am engaged already.”
Mehmood waved off his words. “Not you. I would not have you for a son if you came with your weight in gold.” He faced Zaid and Ahmed. “Now—which of you is to marry my daughter?”
Casey woke and stretched. It’d been a long time since she’d had that great a time with any guy. Okay, maybe she’d never had that great a time. She might have been more willing to keep dating if she’d known sex could be that explosive—that amazing. Sitting up, she saw Khalid was gone already. No surprise there.
Even so, her heart gave a small lurch.
“Get used to it, girl,” she muttered.