Forbidden Jewel of India

He made no move to caress her, or to touch her other than to flatten his big hands on her back, but gradually, as she relaxed, she became aware that he was aroused, hard against the softness of her lower belly as she rested against him.

I do trust him, she thought, her mind finally calm. He did what he had to do because he loves my father and he owes him everything. And I want him and he will stand here all night comforting me because he thinks that is what I need... That is not what I need. I love you.

Anusha nuzzled into the overlap of the robe, the tickle of chest hair strange and arousing over smooth skin and hard muscle beneath.

‘Anusha—’ He stopped with a gasp as her questing mouth found a nipple that contracted into a hard knot at the first stroke of her tongue. Her fingers closed over the ends of the sash that held his robe closed and she tugged as he shifted to hold her away from his body. The robe fell open and she rocked forwards against him, close against the splendour of his nakedness.

‘Anusha,’ he said again and this time it was a groan. She lifted her face to him, her lips parted in invitation, and he bent his head and took them. She could sense the conflict in him even as his mouth made love to hers, his tongue slipping between her teeth to stroke and plunge and plunder. He tasted hot and male and urgent and through the thin cotton that she wore she felt his heartbeat kick.

‘No,’ Nick muttered, lifting his head so the kiss was broken. But it was as though he did not have the strength of lift right away and his breath stroked her lips and his eyes were wide and brilliant. ‘No,’ he said more strongly.

Anusha clung to his neck, lifted one knee on to the desk and then the other so she straddled him, her night robe crumpling up to leave her exposed. Then, before he could twist free, she lowered herself so that the heated length of his erection was trapped along the soft intimate folds that were hot and moist and ached for him.

‘God, Anusha, no.’ Nick bucked his hips, but that only pressed him closer and she moved with him, rocking in a rhythm that made her sob with need. ‘Sweetheart, stop. Stop, please while I still can—’

He was struggling with himself, with her, with his fear of hurting her and his need to take her. It was a fight, a battle and one she was desperate to win...because I love him. Anusha stopped moving, conscience-stricken. Nick would never forgive himself if he took her virginity here, like this, she knew. It would break him, break the bond with her father, break his honour.

She fell against his chest and tried to keep still. ‘I am sorry, Nick. I just...I just need you so much.’ If I tell him I love him he will leave. He does not want love.

Silence, broken only by the sound of their panting breaths, the hiss of the lamp wick, a dog barking in the night.

‘I need you, too,’ Nick said, his voice harsh as though the confession had been extracted under torture.

He was a sensual, virile man and she knew he had not had a woman for weeks and here she was offering herself. Of course he wanted her—it did not mean anything else. Anusha tried to climb down. ‘Wait.’ He stood, lifting her with him, walked to the couch in the corner, sat down again and set her by his side.

His face was sheened with sweat and she could see the big artery in his neck pulsing, but his hands were steady as he wrapped himself in the robe again and tied the sash. ‘You ache,’ Nick stated as though he asked her if she was thirsty.

‘Yes.’ She wanted to touch his hair, smooth the gilt silk under her fingers, but she dare not touch, make it more difficult for him. In a moment, when her legs had stopped shaking, she would get up and go to her room and stop tormenting him.

‘Come here then, sweetheart. Let me make it better.’ He lifted her on to his lap, settled her against his shoulder and kissed her, all before she could react.

She should get up... But her legs felt even weaker and his mouth was like a drug and his arms held her and she gave herself up to the kiss. Even when his hand slid up her leg, pushed back the thin cotton of her night shift, cupped her aching core, all she could do was moan into his mouth.

And then—aah! How could such gentleness create such violence in her body? She arched, pressing against his hand as his fingers explored, stroked, found the point...the point... Anusha stopped thinking, stopped breathing, surrendered to sensation and heat and Nick. Then his other hand cupped her breast and his fingers closed on one nipple and pinched, so lightly, and the exquisite pleasure broke over her like a wave so that she screamed and he captured the sound in his kiss.

She was vaguely aware of being lifted, of movement, of being lowered on to something soft. ‘Sleep, Anusha,’ Nick murmured in her ear. His hand brushed her cheek and she smiled, her body as limp as finest silk velvet, her mind utterly at peace. I love you. She tried to say it, but the words were lost as she drifted down into sleep.