Never Seduce a Sheikh (International Bad Boys Book 2) (15 page)

She’d given him all her secrets, all her anguish. Let him take it all away. She’d given him everything and now, for the first time in her life, she was finally free.

Lily trembled under his hand, the intense, irresistible pleasure pulling her in. Pulling her under.

And surrendered.

I
sma’il turned his
head into the soft warmth of Lily’s hair, the sound of her wild cry of release still echoing in his ears.

His body burned. Ached. He was so hard it hurt. And he felt torn in two.

He hadn’t held back, had given her the fight she’d wanted, something he’d never allowed with any other woman. Because she’d asked. Because she wasn’t a victim and never had been.

But it had come at a cost.

He’d liked it. No, he’d
loved
it. Loved that she hadn’t given in. That she’d matched him with all her strength. That she hadn’t been afraid of him, not even for a second. And when she’d given him her surrender, the sweetness of it had stopped his heart.

Taking Lily had shown him what he’d been missing with all those sweet, submissive women in his bed. Something he’d denied himself for years—freedom from the rigid control he lived his life under. And now he knew what it felt like, he wanted more.

But it was something he could never have. Freedom wasn’t allowed. Without limits, without control, there was nothing between himself and the dark violence he knew for a fact lived inside his soul.

Isma’il shut his eyes for a second, battling the echoes of Khalid’s voice that whispered in his head. A satisfied voice that that told him this was a slippery slope. A slope that led to a sunny room, a bloody riding crop in his hands, and a man lying on the white tiles in a pool of his own blood.

His heart squeezed tight in his chest and he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. No.

Lily’s warm body moved, a hand resting on his shoulder, and the tightness eased all of a sudden. Shoving the thoughts away, Isma’il, slowly pushed himself up, looking down at her. She lay on her back on the white sheets, her golden body the perfect blend of athleticism and womanly curves, her hair spread out in pale silken wave. Her eyes were so dark, cheeks flushed, the color going all the way down to her perfect, pale breasts.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Isma’il.”

For a second, he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Thank you for what?”

“For giving me exactly what I wanted. For not holding back.”

A hard, knotted ball of tension began to unravel inside him. “I did not hurt you?”

“No.” Her mouth curved. “Well, maybe just a little bit. But I liked it.” She lifted a hand to his chest, stroked her fingers lightly over his pectoral. “Fighting you was so bloody exciting. And now I feel . . . I feel free.”

The tension unravelled still further, leaving a curious lightness inside his chest. “I’m glad. Because it is not over,
Habibti.
”

He could have this couldn’t he? One night of total freedom with this woman, the only woman who’d ever given him permission to break the boundaries he set around himself. That was allowed surely?

Isma’il leaned down, brushed her mouth with his, letting the lightness of her touch shiver over his skin. The clean, fresh smell of her cut with the musky perfume of sex was an aphrodisiac all on its own, his body insistently reminding him of what it wanted.

Lily sighed, moving restlessly beneath him. “Yes . . . I did wonder. I thought there might be more to it than that.” Her fingers tangled in his hair and tightened as he moved lower, licking one pink nipple before taking it into his mouth. She arched as he suckled on her, giving a soft, ragged gasp. The taste of her skin, salty and sweet at the same time, was delicious.

“There is more.” He nuzzled against her breast. “A lot more.” And he would give it to her. Give her an experience that would obliterate all memory of her bastard coach.

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“I know you have not done this before.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Her mouth curved a little more. “I’m aware of the mechanics.”

She was all soft and amused and teasing, and he wanted to reciprocate, because he’d never seen her like this. But he couldn’t. He felt too on the edge, as if one push would send him over.

“Lily . . . ” Her name, scraped raw.

Perhaps she saw how close he was. Because although her smile slowly disappeared, the warmth in her eyes didn’t. A warmth he’d never thought he’d ever get from another person.

“It’s okay, Isma’il,” she said softly. “I trust you.”

The immensity of the simple statement slid into him, piercing him. Breaking him.

Freedom. Oh, he was a fool to think he could have that, even for one night. This woman, this moment, was too precious to put at risk for his own selfish need.

He would never be free. Never escape what he’d done to Khalid. Never escape who he was.

And the sooner he accepted that the better.

“You should not trust me. You should not.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Sheikh.” A trace of the cool, poised CEO. “I’ll do anything else you want, but where I give my trust is my own decision.”

He had no answer to that. Because to tell her why that was a bad decision would involve the truth. A truth that would bring violence to this bed. Darkness and blood and pain. And she’d already had that once before from one man. He wouldn’t be a second.

“Stay there, exactly like that,” he murmured. Ordered. “I have to get something.”

He went into the small bathroom and found the condoms that his well-meaning staff included in all of his many bathrooms, wherever he went. This was the first time he’d ever found himself availing himself of the opportunity here, in the desert.

Taking one, he returned to the main room of the tent and stopped.

Lily lay on his bed, her hair spread out on the sheets. She’d put her hands up over her head, her thighs fallen open. A picture of complete and utter female surrender. A picture made all the sweeter because it was her.

Eyes the color of black coffee held his. “Is this how you want me?”

He could barely speak. “This is exactly how I want you.”

His hand shook as he got rid of his trousers and he had to take a breath to calm himself. Get a little bit of control back.

“Isma’il?”

He put one knee on the bed and bent, leaning over her. She frowned at him, concerned. “It’s all right, Lily,” he said thickly, and put one hand on her thigh, running it higher, her skin like silk beneath his fingers. Her muscles tensed and when he eased his hand between her thighs, she let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering closed.

Slick, wet heat against his fingertips, the softness of her parting, yielding as he stroked. Her body arched and he dipped his head, licking the hollow of her throat, tasting her skin. Tasting the desert on it and the clean saltiness that was all Lily.

“I must have your obedience.” A command that he didn’t bother to temper. “Do not fight me now.” He had to have the control here. Had to do this his way, otherwise he would lose it.

Her dark eyes searched his face and he felt himself tense at the hesitation. If she said no, he did not know what he would do.

It felt like an eon until she finally nodded, and the relief nearly made him dizzy.

“Good. That is very good,
Habibti.
Keep your arms above your head.”

She obeyed, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

So unbelievably sexy.

He ripped open the condom packet, protecting them both and she watched him, her eyes huge and dark, her breathing fast and getting faster.

“Turn over,” he ordered, his voice guttural.

“But . . . but I want to see you.”

“Please . . . ” He forced the word out. “It has to be this way.” He did not want her to look at his face. Did not want her to look into his eyes and see the dark heart of Khalid looking back at her. Better she didn’t look at him at all.

She hesitated only a moment but then, taking a soft, ragged breath, she did as she was told, turning over onto her front. So beautiful. Long, elegant golden back, the soft swell of buttocks and thighs . . . perfection.

Yes, this was better. This was safer.

Isma’il slid an arm beneath her hips, lifting her. She made a soft sound, his name a murmur, ending on a low moan as he slid one hand up the back of her thigh, between her legs, touching, stroking the slickness of her sex.

Gently, he spread her open with his fingers and eased hiself gently, slowly inside her.

She tensed and he wanted to ask if she was okay, if it hurt, but he couldn’t speak.

The wet heat of her almost blanked his mind. So tight. So unbearably tight. His grip on his control slipped, dark hunger rising inside him. He fought it back, grasping her hips, moving as slowly and gently as he could. But the need that clutched him was unstoppable.

Lily took a sobbing breath as he slid one hand around to cup her breast, circling his thumb around her nipple then brushing over it, pinching lightly. “Oh . . . Isma’il . . . ” Her voice was barely recognizable.

He thrust deeper, faster, unable to stop himself. The hunger roared inside his head, wanting her. Wanting to take her, devour her, mark her. Make her his. And he obeyed it, covering her body, bending his head and pressing his mouth against the sensitive place between her shoulder and neck. Biting her as he slid a hand down between her thighs, brushing her clitoris with his thumb. Lily’s back bowed and he felt her convulse around him, a wild cry bursting from her.

Then, holding her tightly, he allowed the physical pleasure free rein, moving hard and fast and deep until it exploded inside his head like a firework and took him under.

*     *     *

Lily pressed her
hot face into the sheets, the pleasure still ricocheting around inside her body, her heart thumping hard in her chest, feeling Isma’il collapse onto his side next to her, one arm still curled possessively around her waist.

So, that was sex.

She’d heard many times from various friends about how much of a disappointment their first time had been. How awkward and strange and messy and painful. She’d never felt like she’d missed out on anything.

But now she knew differently. That hadn’t just been pleasurable. That had been shattering. How was she supposed to put herself back together after that?

“Are you okay?” Isma’il’s voice near her ear.

“Yes.” She took a breath, then turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. Concern shaded the blue depths and it made her throat get a little tight. “I’m fantastic, actually.” She touched his cheek, his skin hot beneath her fingertips. “That was amazing. I had no idea sex was like that.”

“It is not like that. Not usually.”

“Not even for you?”

“No.” He shifted his head, kissing her fingertips. “Not even for me.”

Her heart felt tight, his lips soft beneath her fingers. “So is that your usual position?”

“You are full of questions, Ms. Harkness. I am not sure I approve.”

She smiled at the lazy tease in his voice. “I’m being serious. Why did you turn me over? I really wanted to see you.”

Long, sooty black lashes flickered, veiling his gaze. “I told you, I like to be in charge. And that is a position where I can be.”

He certainly had been. “Why? What’s so important about being in charge?”

The long, lean powerful body next to hers tensed. “I would not be much of a sheikh without it.” The words were spoken lightly, betraying no evidence of the tension that gripped his body. “Wait there,
Habibti.
I will be back in a moment.”

Lily frowned as he slipped off the bed and disappeared through the flap that led to the little bathroom. What kind of answer was that? Something else was going on here. He was holding something back and she wanted to know what it was.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked when he came back out again.

“Telling you? Telling you what?” He got onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest, his body curving around his.

She relaxed against him. Perhaps she shouldn’t push this. Perhaps she should just enjoy the after-glow. But no, this mattered. She wanted to know.