Exposed: The Sheikh's Mistress

She had never been confronted quite so vividly by his overt masculinity before, and her heart gave a startled little leap as she found herself wondering if he was actually wearing any underwear at all.

But it was more than his state of undress which unsettled her—for his eyes looked dangerous tonight. Steely and brittle. Like jet. Something stopped her from hurling herself into his arms in the breathless way which always made him laugh—and she wasn’t sure whether it was excitement or fear. But why on earth would she be frightened?

‘You look beautiful tonight, Sienna,’ he said deliberately.

Were nerves getting the better of her, or was there an odd undertone to his voice? ‘Thank you. I—’ But her words were lost beneath the hard, heady pressure of his mouth, for he had pulled her into his arms without warning and had begun to kiss her in a way which took her breath away. ‘Hashim!’ she gasped.

Her mouth opened up beneath his and it was enough to ignite all the fire and the fury which had been smouldering away inside him. He kissed her until she was melting and aching and moaning beneath his seasoned touch, and only then did he lift his head and glitter a hard, bright question down at her.

‘Hashim…what?’ he questioned huskily, moving his mouth to her throat to trace a featherlight kiss along its silken path.

It would be madness to protest that he had never kissed her like this before—not when she had spent hours wondering why.

‘Oh-oh-oh!’ She shuddered as he lightly drifted his hand over her breast.

A grim, silent smile of triumph curved his hard lips as his fingertips returned to whisper over their pert lushness. ‘Oh, what, Sienna?’ came the silken query. ‘Is that good?’

‘Oh! Oh!’ she gasped. ‘So good!’

A tiny pulse flickered in the centre of one tensed olive cheek. ‘Tell me what it is you want,’ he grated.

Instinct took over from reservation and sent the words spilling out of their own accord. ‘That,’ she sighed, as his fingers brushed fleetingly against the aching mounds of her breasts. ‘That’s what I want!’

He cupped the magnificent swell in his hand and rubbed a slow and deliberate circle with his thumb. ‘Like this, you mean?’

She nodded as pleasure constricted her throat into a tight, dry band.

‘I can’t hear you, Sienna,’ he urged softly.

‘Yes,’ she moaned. ‘Yes! Just like that. Oh, Hashim…’

How he had misjudged her! Oh, yes! He could feel her responsive body pressing close to his, and knew that if he put his hand up her skirt she would not stop him. How far would she let him go in public? Would she let him unzip himself and plunge right in? Probably.

‘You want that I should make love to you by the lift?’ he demanded hotly.

In some dim recess of her mind she was aware that he sounded almost…harsh…disapproving…But maybe that was because he had been holding back for so long. Didn’t they say that men had difficulty controlling their sexual hunger? Sienna drew back and swallowed breathlessly, lifting the palm of her hand to touch his rugged face, but it looked oddly cold and forbidding. Obviously he was holding himself tightly in check and she must not make him wait any longer—he had played the gentleman to her heart’s content. It was time.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ she whispered daringly.

His mouth hardened. ‘Yes,’ agreed Hashim, in an odd kind of voice. ‘Why don’t we?’

Without warning he shut the door with an echoing slam, then picked her up and carried her towards a vast double bed which was covered with a lavish embroidered gold coverlet.

‘Fit for a king!’ Sienna murmured with delight, but there was no answering smile in his eyes as he put her down on it.

‘Only a sheikh this time, I’m afraid,’ he responded tonelessly. ‘Are you disappointed?’

She wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but by then he had come to lie down beside her and her last reservations melted away.

‘Now, then,’ he said decisively, and began to unbutton her dress, a pure feral smile of hunger emphasising the deep lines around his mouth. ‘Ah…’ He sucked in a slow breath of pleasure as her breasts were revealed to him, spilling lushly pale from the pink lace which confined them. ‘So firm. So tight. So taut. Like two rich, ripe fruits. Beautiful. So very, very beautiful. You have the most beautiful breasts that I have ever seen, Sienna. What a lucky man I am.’

Something in his words unsettled her—but any slight anxiety she experienced was allayed with the expert motion of his fingertips, and Sienna closed her eyes.

‘Yes,’ he murmured approvingly. ‘Lie back and enjoy it.’