Jamilah burned as she looked up and saw the intensity on Salman’s face, the way he avoided her eye. Anger had turned into something much more ambiguous and explosive within her. A treacherous tenderness was rushing through her—exactly what she’d been afraid of all day. She would have to make the first move, to show him, prove to him, that she wanted him, and she could no more deny him that than stop breathing.
This was their moment of reckoning. She knew that much. A reckless exhilaration was thrumming through her blood now—and it had been from the moment he’d replaced Ahmed’s hands with his own. In her head she finally capitulated to her most base desires and threw caution to the wind, saying, ‘If you can’t see that my reaction was for Ahmed, and not you, then you’re losing your touch, Salman. You don’t disgust me. Quite the opposite, in fact. So why don’t you just shut up and kiss me?’
She’d shocked him as much as herself. She could feel it in the sudden tension in his body. He looked down at her and she wound her arms around his neck, for the first time feeling a little in control of the situation. She went up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to Salman’s. And then, when he didn’t move, she pulled back and said, ‘What’s the matter, Salman? Can’t you handle a woman taking the initiative?’
His hands went to her waist and burned through her clothes. ‘Oh, I can handle it, all right, but I just want to know this: are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
Jamilah shut out the cacophony of warning voices in her head and pressed even closer to Salman, exulting in the feel of his hard erection between them. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing. I can take care of myself. I have been for a long time now.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SALMAN smiled, and it was feral, and it made something deep inside Jamilah shiver with anticipation. ‘I think I like you even more when you’re dominant and bossy.’
Before she could make a retort Salman was walking her back until she felt herself thud against the door again. His head descended, and nothing but delicious heat and sensation concerned Jamilah any more. She held him close, fingers tangling in his hair. Their tongues duelled fiercely, as if the
y couldn’t get enough of one another.
She’d hungered for him for too long. Desire was overflowing and all-encompassing, and she didn’t have a hope of resisting—not that she could have after her provocative little speech. Jamilah had no idea where that confidence had come from, but knew she’d gone that route in a bid to feel as if she was the one in control.
But that and every other coherent thought fled when she felt Salman’s hands on her back, pulling down the zip of her dress. His mouth left hers and followed the line of her jaw down to her shoulder, where she could feel him pulling down the strap of her dress. Her breath came jerkily, her hands dropped, and she sagged back against the door, her legs trembling. They’d gone from zero to a thousand in thirty seconds on the arousal scale.
Salman pulled the strap down her arm and she could feel her dress gaping open at the back. Nothing could stop it from falling down now, and exposing one bare breast. In the dim light he pulled back for a moment and looked his fill. All Jamilah could do was concentrate on not passing out with the intensity of the desire pulsing through her. She felt her breast grow heavy, and its peak tightened unbearably. She bit her lip to stop herself from begging Salman to touch her there.
She felt so wanton, and almost cried out when Salman cupped the fleshy weight and said throatily, ‘So beautiful…I’ve dreamed of this, Jamilah. I’ve dreamed of you.’
His thumb passed back and forth over the throbbing peak, and when he bent his head and licked around it before sucking it into his mouth she did cry out, holding his head with her hands.
Desperation mounted through her as the memory of the bliss only he could evoke was awoken within her core. ‘You…’ she said breathily. ‘I want to see you.’
Salman stopped his luxurious lavishing of attention on her breast and stood up. With sheer sensual grace and ease of confidence he tugged off his outer robe, and then the thinner under-robe. He kicked off his shoes, his eyes never leaving Jamilah’s even though she couldn’t help but look down and take her fill of his magnificent broad chest. He’d changed since she’d last seen him naked. He’d filled out even more and was truly a man. Broad-shouldered and leanly muscular.
The loose pants barely clung to his narrow hips, and his hands went there to undo the tie. Within seconds they’d fallen to the floor and he stood before her naked and proud, his erection making her eyes go wide. She’d forgotten how big he was.
He came close again, and tipped up her chin with a finger. Then he slid the other strap of her dress down the other arm until her dress fell to her waist. With a gentle tug from his hands it joined his clothes on the floor. Now all she wore were black lace panties and her high heels. Salman looked down her body. Jamilah could feel little fire trails wherever his eyes rested, and between her legs she was aching for his touch.
He reached and took the pin out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, and then he said huskily, ‘Are you wet for me, Jamilah?’
Jamilah groaned softly in eloquent answer as Salman trailed his index finger down and through the valley of her cleavage. She’d been wet for him since the moment she’d heard the helicopter bring him back to Merkazad.
And then she groaned even louder as Salman dropped to his knees before her and slipped one shoe off and then the other, looking up at her, black eyes glittering wickedly. ‘I want to taste you.’
He pulled her panties down over her hips, down her legs and off. Then he gently pushed her legs apart before taking her right leg and hooking it over his shoulder, opening her up to him.
Jamilah was gone beyond any point of return, and had to put a fist to her mouth when she felt his breath feather through her dark curls. His tongue lashed out and laved her secret inner folds, finding where her clitoris throbbed for attention. She was a helpless captive to this sensual onslaught. She bit her hand, her body spiralling towards the most intense orgasm she’d ever had as Salman licked without mercy until everything exploded around her and went black for a second, her whole body throbbing in the aftermath.
He held her legs when she would have collapsed in a heap, their support completely gone. When she’d recovered enough to focus again, he rose up in a smooth move and lifted her into his arms. Jamilah was boneless. But being held in Salman’s arms with her naked breasts against his chest was making little tremors of arousal start up all over again.
This was how it had been between them—intense and furious. Every time. Salman laid her down gently on his bed and stood up to look at her for a long moment. His intent gaze made her feel sensual and womanly. His obvious arousal made a heady pleasure wash through her in waves. But then she couldn’t stand it any longer. She held out a hand. ‘Salman…I want you.’
To her relief he came down on two hands over her and said gruffly, ‘I want you, too. So much it hurts.’
She twined her hands around his neck and pulled him down on top of her, relishing his heavy weight and that potent hardness between her legs. She spread her legs wide and said huskily, ‘Show me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it better.’ She wasn’t unaware of the symbolism of her kissing away his hurts, of wanting to heal him, and emotion made her chest full.
He touched a finger to his mouth. ‘Here…’
Jamilah reached up and pressed her mouth to his, her tongue darting out to lick and taste, teeth nipping gently at his lower lip.
She pulled back and Salman’s eyes glittered. He pointed to his chest, ‘Here, too…’