The Sheikh's Secret Babies

‘Don’t wait,’ she heard herself mumble, wanting, needing, strung on a high of anticipation.

But Jaul never had been a male prone to following instructions in bed and he teased her first, toying with the tiny button of her desire so that she gasped and her hips jerked and her legs flailed and what remained of her control was ruthlessly wrenched from her. He shimmied down the bed and used his mouth and his tongue on her most tender flesh. From that point, she no longer knew what she was doing, was positively enslaved by the wanton hunger beating like an angry drum inside her, pushing her responses higher and higher until her whole body convulsed on a bitingly fierce climax, wave after wave of almost forgotten intense pleasure pounding through her weakened length.

‘That’s one,’ Jaul husked with his unforgettable confidence, dark eyes shimmering gold pools of hunger as what remained of his clothing went sailing across the room. He tore the corner from a small foil pack with his teeth and came down to her, lean brown powerful body arching over hers with balletic grace and all the hard, driving promise of extravagant pleasure she had learned to expect from him.

I’m not doing this, I’m not really doing this, she reasoned crazily with herself, still intoxicated by the physical gratification she had denied herself for too long. The long, slow, torturous glide of him into her damp sheath was irresistible, stretching sensitive tissue before sinking deep in a deliriously energising thrust. She strained up to him and she couldn’t help it because excitement was powering her and he was moving, hard and fast, sending ripples of deliciously dark erotic sensation travelling through her lower limbs. His rhythm was the blinding white heat of passion and she was lost and defenceless against the erotic moves of his lithe, strong body, caught up in the moment and reaching desperately for the highest peak with every sobbing, gasping breath. And then the scorching, blinding heat splintered into ecstasy as potent as an explosive charge and she cried out as the voluptuous, spellbinding pleasure expanded and flooded her with sweet sensation in the aftermath.

Afterwards, Chrissie wasn’t even quite sure where she was because Jaul was still holding her close and that felt both familiar and strange and she didn’t know how to react to it. Instead she lay there like a stick of rock, barely breathing, under attack from a roaring grip of discomfiture. On the very edge of the divorce that she had told him she wanted she had slept with him again. Humiliation engulfed her and powered her into pulling free and rolling over in silence to the other side of the bed.

Powered by no similar onslaught of self-consciousness and regret, Jaul got the message and sprang out of bed. ‘We start again,’ he pronounced with decision as he stretched, his long brown back rippling with muscle in the sunlight.

And somehow the very fact that it was still daylight and that her innocent children were napping somewhere in the huge house made Chrissie feel even more guilty and conflicted than ever. In that turmoil of uneasy emotion she almost didn’t notice the scarring on Jaul’s back as he strode towards what she assumed to be the bathroom. Striated silvery lines marked his spine and she frowned, momentarily sidestepping her other anxieties to say abruptly, ‘How did you get the scars on your back?’

‘In an accident...car,’ Jaul told her flatly.

As he stood there, naked and brown and gorgeous, his perfect profile turned towards her, she wondered if he had always had the scars and she simply hadn’t noticed them. How observant had she been of his back view? she asked herself wryly, dismissing her momentary concern to let the other feelings of confusion and self-loathing engulf her again.

‘I still want the divorce,’ Chrissie told him stonily.

His strong jawline clenched. ‘We’ll discuss it after I have a shower.’

‘OK.’ Like someone desperate to pull clean linen over a mistake, Chrissie was eager for him to get dressed and leave her free to do the same.

‘There’s another shower off the room next door,’ Jaul remarked tautly. ‘I’ll use it.’

‘Your bodyguards aren’t standing outside the door, are they?’ Chrissie checked.

‘They’ll be downstairs.’ Jaul sent her a perceptive appraisal from grave dark eyes. ‘It is not their business to monitor or discuss my private life and they know it well.’