Desert Prince's Stolen Bride

The inner protestations that this man was a danger, her enemy, her abductor, fell utterly silent. She no longer cared. Even if this was merely a night and the man, stranger that he was, used her and then tossed her aside afterwards, Olivia knew she could not turn away from this. Not when she’d finally woken up, after a lifetime of sleeping. Not when every sense and nerve was tuned exquisitely, acutely. She felt. She felt so many wonderful things.

Tentatively, learning the steps of this new and intricate dance, she reached up to grip his shoulders, her fingertips grazing his skull. She pressed her body against his, thrilling to the feel of his hard, muscled chest and powerful thighs. And more than that...even in her innocence she recognised the insistent throb of his arousal against her stomach. She’d seen enough films, read enough romance novels, to recognise it and she thrilled to it, to him, all the more.

A groan escaped him as he tore his mouth from hers and took a step back from her. His expression was nearly as befuddled as her own, Olivia thought. They were both breathing heavily, staring at each other in dazed desire, the very air between them seeming to shimmer.

‘Come to bed,’ he said, and reached for her hand.

For a second Olivia hesitated. Here was the moment of clarity, of choice. Was she really willing to give up her virginity to a stranger? Would she do this, the most intimate and sacred of acts, with a man whose name she did not even know, who had kidnapped her, who had to be merely using her, no matter what flowery language he used? And yet he wanted her. That was no lie, no trick. He wanted her...and she loved the feeling of being wanted.

His fingers found hers and he tugged gently, a smile curving that mobile mouth. ‘Do not be afraid, hayete. Remember when I said I would never hurt you. That is, and always will be, my solemn vow.’

He spoke as if he knew her, as if he had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for her. Olivia knew he couldn’t have been. It was just words, sentiment, yet she believed him in this at least: he wouldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t let herself get hurt. A night and no more. How many women had made the same bargain, the same promise? There need be no regrets. She didn’t care who he was. All that mattered was what he made her feel right now.

He must have sensed her acquiescence for his mouth curved in a deeper smile, and Olivia saw the triumph flare in his eyes along with the desire. He pulled her gently towards him and she came, hips swaying, heart beating. Their bodies nudged and bumped and he gazed down at her, standing so close she could feel the beat of his heart against her own.

‘You are very beautiful. Very desirable.’

No one had ever said such things to her before. She was too skinny, too quiet, all hair and eyes. She didn’t have Halina’s generous curves and lush mouth, her engaging smile and contagious laughter. She always stayed in the background and no one ever noticed her at all. Until now.

Shyly she laid her hand on his chest, felt the steady thud of his heart underneath the press of her palm. ‘As are you.’

He laughed softly at that, and then he took her hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing her palm, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘Then we are well matched,’ he murmured, and his mouth moved from her palm to her fingertips, kissing and nibbling each one in turn until Olivia’s knees went weak.

The man drew her to the mattress, bringing her down to its feathery softness, the silken covers slippery beneath her. He stretched out alongside her, his body relaxed but his gaze so intent.

‘So very beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘But I want to see all of you. May I?’

Everything in Olivia trembled. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, unable to say anything more. He tugged at the ties of her robe so it fell open, revealing the simple chemise she wore underneath. Keeping his gaze on her, he reached out and cupped her breast, his thumb sliding over the peak, making her shudder. She’d never been touched so intimately, so knowingly.

‘You like that?’ he murmured, and she nodded jerkily.

‘Yes.’

He lowered his mouth to where his hand had just touched, and Olivia jerked again, arching off the mattress as his mouth closed over her breast, damp and hot, sending darts of intense sensation through her. She gripped his head, unsure if she wanted to anchor him to her or push him away, because it was so much. All her nerve endings felt flayed, yet she wanted more of him.

He moved his mouth to her other breast and she gasped out loud. The novels and films had never described it like this. And then he was moving lower, placing lazy kisses along her abdomen, her navel, and then lower still.

Olivia tensed as he nudged her thighs apart. Surely not...? But he was, his warm breath fanning her very centre, and she let out a long, shuddering sigh as he kissed her in the most intimate way possible. Pleasure licked through her veins and her hips arched helplessly, her fingers threaded through his hair, her body on fire. She’d never, ever felt anything like it; it consumed her. He did.

And then she felt as if she were burning right up; she cried out loud, a jagged sound, as pleasure exploded inside her, took her over, blazing through her. When she came to, everything hazy around her, he’d come up to rest on his forearms and was smiling down at her.

‘And that’s just the beginning.’

The beginning? He’d kill her, at this rate. Kill her with pleasure. He laughed softly. ‘Don’t look so disbelieving, hayete. I intend to make this a night you shall never forget.’

He already had. Still smiling, he shrugged out of his own clothes and then rid her of the rest of her own. Their bodies came together, naked, skin on skin, limbs twining and tangling. It felt so intensely intimate, to be pressed against someone like that, every part of herself on display, on offer for him. And he took it, his gaze roving over her, his mouth curved, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. He liked what he saw, and that thrilled her.

‘Touch me,’ he commanded, his voice a throb, and she gazed at him in surprise. Then, hesitantly, she let her hands drift from his powerful shoulders to the satiny skin of his back, and then down to his hips. His arousal pulsed against her, exciting and terrifying her all at once. But he’d told her not to be afraid, and somehow she wasn’t.

‘Touch me,’ he said again, his voice ragged, and Olivia knew what he meant. Feeling shy and bold at the same time, she moved her hand from his hip to curl around the pulsing length of his arousal. His breath hissed between his teeth as she stroked him, hardly able to believe that she could create this response in a man so fierce and beautiful.

He kissed her again, hard, the lazy sensuality he’d shown earlier now becoming something far more raw and primal that Olivia matched, the heat and need an insistent pulse inside her, an ache that demanded satiation—again.

He slid his fingers to her core, moving against her slick heat, making her moan. ‘You’re ready,’ he said and Olivia tensed, knowing she was, of course she was, and yet...

Slowly, surely, he slid inside her, an invasion that felt both shocking and overwhelming, the smooth slide of him filling her right up. She gasped out loud, her hips twitching in instinctive discomfort as she struggled to accommodate the sheer size of him.

Sweat sheened on his brow as he braced himself on his forearms and held himself still inside her, waiting for her to adjust to the entirely unfamiliar sensation. ‘You are not hurt?’ he asked through gritted teeth. Holding back was clearly a huge effort.