The Sheikh's Ransomed Bride

His large hand swooped down her spine, lingered just above her buttocks and slid up again to her shoulder. Belle felt something dip in her stomach at the movement. Her breath caught as she waited for him to repeat the caress.

And when he did she couldn’t prevent the involuntary press of her body tight in against him.

Of course he noticed. This time both his large hands slid down, inch by slow inch, past her waist to the dip at the small of her back, then lower, to follow the curve of her buttocks with a heavier touch, puffing her infinitesimally closer. Belle bit down on her lip as the movement brought them together intimately.

`Nevertheless, you must be weary,’ he said. Ì shouldn’t have tired you so much.’

She grimaced at the way he skirted around what had happened.

Perhaps he was shocked by the wanton way she’d behaved. She was!

‘I‘11 get some refreshments for you,’ he said, his hands sliding off her.

`No! Not yet, thanks.’ If he moved she wouldn’t be able to avoid his eyes. At least this way, stupid as it was, she had a respite for a few minutes longer.

Às you wish,’ he responded. `But nevertheless I should move.’ ‘In a minute,’ she urged, spreading her hands across his chest as if her paltry strength could stop him.

`Belle This time his voice sounded strained. Ì need to get up.’ He curved his fingers round her chin and tilted her face up so she had no option but to meet his gaze.

She wasn’t sure what, precisely, she’d expected to see in his face.

But it wasn’t the obvious tension in his hard-set jaw, or the disturbing glitter in his eyes. He looked like a man in pain.

`Rafiq? What’s wrong?’

His lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. `Nothing that a little distance wouldn’t cure.’

The throb of his erection against her abdomen saved further explanation. She’d been so busy dwelling on her own weakness for him, it was a relief to see him affected just as badly.

`Distance isn’t the only cure,’ she whispered, and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

Then he shook his head. Òut of the question,’ he said. Ì don’t want to hurt you. You must already be tender.’

But the longing was clear in his eyes. She guessed it must come close to the expression on her own face as he’d loved her so rapaciously a short time ago. She slipped her hand between them and closed her fingers round him. He pulsed in her hold and she heard him gasp, saw him close his eyes.

`There’s no need,’ he said roughly.

Ì disagree,’ she murmured as she pressed a kiss to his heaving chest and pushed herself up. Ì think this is all about need.’

She hoped she could give him at least a fraction of the pleasure he’d given her. The anguished strain on his face as she moved gave her a new boldness, urging her on.

It was the work of a moment to straddle him, positioning herself high above him. His eyes snapped open, his expression a mix of searing anticipation and pained torment that drove her on.

Tentatively she lowered herself, her own eyes widening at the sensation of their slow bonding. There was a wonderful completeness about it a connection between them that was more than physical, she knew. She felt it in every cell of her body, and her heart welled with emotion. Looking down into Rafiq’s darkening eyes, she saw that emotion reflected there.

She opened her mouth, so overcome by the sense of oneness that she longed to blurt out the truth. The fact that she loved this man.

But then Rafiq moved, tilting up against her, bringing their union     inconceivably closer, tighter, and the words were lost as the spiral of desire spun out of control once more. His hands on her hips, his mouth on her breast, the slow, purposeful drive of his body in concert with her own instinctive moves, rapidly drew her again into that whirlpool of sensation where thought, much less speech, was impossible.

What had begun as an attempt to bring him release became a mutual delight. Rafiq’s steady hold kept her from increasing the pace in a race to blind fulfillment. Instead it was a deliberate, exquisite experience of shared pleasure.

Each sensation was spun out to the maximum, made more potent by the awareness that it was theirs together. The expression in his eyes as they held hers made her heart sing. Her gasp of delight was echoed in his hoarse breathing. As she trembled on the brink of ecstasy she felt his answering tremors grow to shudders. And then the sudden spasm of her fulfillment was matched by the convulsive bucking of his big body as release shattered his control. She called his name, but the sound was lost in the husky flow of Arabic as he groaned out his pleasure.