Never Seduce a Sheikh (International Bad Boys Book 2) (19 page)

For a long moment, she didn’t know if he would. But then she felt his hands on her stomach, easing down between her thighs, the gentleness of his fingers sliding over her sex. She shuddered.

“You’re wet,” his voice was rough. His fingers moved, surer this time, stroking her. The look on his face began to change, the shock and the fear fading, hunger taking its place. “So wet for me.”

“Yes . . . ” Lily gasped as his hand moved on her slick flesh. “There’s nothing you can to do me that I won’t like. That I won’t want. So take it, Isma’il. Take me.”

He went still for a moment, staring down into her face. And then the flame in his eyes ignited.

His head dipped, his mouth at her throat, kissing her, licking her, biting her. No restraints. No holding back. His teeth against her skin made her groan and when his hand cupped her breast, a hot mouth around her nipple, she cried out. One finger slid into her, then another, his movements becoming ruthless, insistent. Pleasure rocketed through her in a wild burst. “Isma’il!”

Lily closed her eyes as the orgasm slammed into her, sending her into free-fall, senses spinning, the breath tearing in her throat. She lay there unable to move, shuddering, feeling him move on the bed beside her. The slide of fabric against skin, the sound of his breathing harsh in the night.

Then, her thighs were being spread apart and he was inside her in one hard, almost savage thrust. She cried out again, sensitive tissues stretched unbearably, nearly painful and yet . . . not. He withdrew, thrust again, deeper, harder, forcing another cry from her throat.

Through the haze of a pleasure that bordered on agony, Lily opened her eyes, looked up into his face. A wild expression burned in his turquoise eyes. He panted, his powerful chest heaving, sweat sheening his bronze skin.

Yes, this was her sheikh. Without his rigid control. Passionate and elemental at his heart. Just as she was.

She lifted her legs, locked them around his lean waist, pulling him in deep and holding him there.

“Lily.” Her name a growl, low and feral. He moved hard and deep, but she lifted her hips in time with his, taking him as much as he was taking her.

He reached for her bound wrists, holding her down as he buried himself inside her again. She groaned, arching underneath him. His mouth brushed against her jaw, down her neck. Then his mouth met hers and a shudder went through his big, powerful body and he groaned. And then everything began to come apart, the rhythm becoming faster, wilder. Passion burning through all controls, all limits. Burning past all hope of containing it.

In the end, she could not match him, all she could do was put her arms around him, hold him, her anchor point in the deluge of sensation and let him carry her away into helpless ecstasy.

Afterwards, she lay stunned in his arms, her pulse thundering in her ears, her throat constricted, the warm weight of his body pressing down on her, holding her to the earth.

Something had happened to her. Something had changed.

Lily turned her face against one powerful, brown shoulder, trying to get a breath. Trying to work out why she felt so different, altered in some fundamental way.

“
Habibti
?” A gentle hand under her chin, lifting her head to look at him. Intense blue eyes studying her face with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

It hit her with the force of a wrecking ball straight to the stomach.

You’re in love with him.

She couldn’t breathe. Because that couldn’t be right. How could she fall in love with a man she’d only known for a matter of days? That didn’t make any sense.

The concern in his eyes deepened. “You look upset. I did hurt you. Oh,
Habibti,
I am sorry.”

Her heart didn’t seem to care about the lack of time. Her heart knew what it wanted. Knew what it felt regardless of what her brain told her. And it wanted the Sheikh of Dahar.

“I’m okay.” Her voice came out cracked and broken. Not the way it should have done at all.

He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead, a tender gesture. “You do not sound okay.”

There was something quiet and still about him, as if he’d come to some kind of peace within himself.

She stared up at him, the words crowding in her mouth, desperate to be said. But she swallowed them back. Because how could she say them? When all they had between them was a couple of nights of passion and shared secrets. That was all. Hardly enough to base a friendship on, let alone a lifetime partnership.

Isma’il frowned. “Lily?”

Her chest squeezed tight as realization nearly drowned her. This man could hurt her worse than Dan ever could. Dan only hurt her body, bruised her spirit.

But Isma’il could scar her very soul.

Abruptly, she realized that if she didn’t say anything soon, she would be in danger of giving herself away. “Yes,” she forced out. “I’m fine, honestly. I’m just . . . could you untie my hands? I’m kind of losing circulation.”

A low distraction technique, but it worked. His frown deepened, his attention transferring to the scarf around her wrists, long clever fingers moving to undo the knot. Unwinding the blue silk, he released her, rubbing gently at the marks the scarf had left on her skin.

“Thanks,” she murmured, the words dying in her throat as he bent, pressed his mouth to the sensitive underside of her wrists, kissing them. Shivers moved over her skin, her body waking into life again. But her heart felt bruised and aching.

He shifted, letting her hands go, dark brows arrowing down. “We had unprotected sex, Lily.”

Oh. So they had. Perhaps it should have felt more shocking to her, but for some reason she didn’t feel shocked. Only . . .

No. Don’t go there.

“Yes. So we did.”

“You are not worried?”

“Well, I’m not at a particularly fertile time in my cycle. So chances of anything happening are minimal.”

A strange, remote look entered his eyes. “Good. You should know though that if anything were to happen, I would support any decision you wanted to make.”

“Thank you,” she said, glancing away. Not wanting him to see the sudden longing that went through her. Children had never been part of her plans for her life, but it wouldn’t be so bad if they were his. In fact, if they were his . . .

No. No. She couldn’t do that to herself. Choose to make herself vulnerable to a man. Her body was one thing, her heart was quite another. She’d only just got over Dan. Getting over Isma’il would be impossible.

Long fingers caught her chin, turning her face back to his. “You are worried?”

“Uh no. No really. But . . . I guess a pregnancy isn’t exactly what I need right now.”

Of course, he saw through that paltry excuse. He saw everything.

“That is not what you were going to say,” he said softly.

Lily took a breath. Armored herself yet again. “No, you’re right.” She reached out and touched his mouth, traced his lower lip with her fingertip. “I was going to tell you to go get some condoms.” Another low distraction technique. That also worked.

“You want me to stay?”

“I want you to stay.”

His mouth curved, a wicked smile that made her heart beat hard and her breath catch. “Say please.”

“Please,” she whispered.

“On one condition then.”

“What?”

He let go of her chin, picked up the scarf. “Tie this over your eyes, while I go to my tent for supplies.”

“Blindfold myself? And then what?”

“Lie down on the bed and keep very, very still.”

Excitement gripped her. “What if I move?”

Isma’il’s smile became dangerous. “What do you think? I will punish you,
Habibti
.”

T
he sun woke
him, a beam of hot light against the canvas of the tent, lighting up the interior.

For a second, he couldn’t remember where he was, the sleep he’d had so deep he hadn’t, for once, dreamed. Then, he felt the soft warmth of someone beside him and memory flooded back.

Lily.

He turned over and looked down at the woman curled against his side. The sheet had come down off her, exposing delicious curves and a quantity of golden skin. Bruised golden skin.

Bruises at her neck, her breast, the red mark of his hand on the curve of one buttock. She was smiling in her sleep.

His breath caught.

They had shared something intense last night. Something rare and precious. For once, he’d taken off the limits. Shed the restraints. Let go the control. Embraced the dark heart of himself and she’d gone with him every step of the way, embracing it with him.

She moved against him, the scent of her sweet and musky with sex and sleep. Her arm crept across his chest, her face nuzzling into his neck. His body began to wake, began to get hard.

He hadn’t intended to stay the whole night, but she’d been impossible to resist. The freedom he found in her arms he would never find anywhere else, with anyone else. Because only she knew him. All his terrible secrets. The darkest corners of his soul. Only she knew them and matched them with her courage and strength, and indomitable spirit.

Lily’s pale lashes fluttered and swept up, eyes the color of bittersweet chocolate meeting his.

And for one long moment, all he wanted to do was stay here with her. Keep her in his arms. Shut out the world for as long as possible, grasp the freedom she gave him while he could.

Freedom from control. From fear. From the taint of Khalid that lived in his heart.

One last, fleeting, stolen moment.

Lily’s gaze abruptly slid away, her cheeks flushing. “Well, I guess we have things to do.” She turned, preparing to move. Preparing to leave.

His arm tightened instinctively, holding her still. “Stay,” he ordered in a low voice. “We don’t have to get up just yet.”

“Oh, I think we do.” Her voice had gone cool, back to those poised CEO tones. “I have a lot of work that needs to be done now that the contract is going to go ahead.”

He didn’t like that. Didn’t like the way she turned away from him, distancing him. Why? When she hadn’t last night? He spread his hand on her stomach and pulled her back against him. “There will be time for that.” He kissed her shoulder, slid his hand higher to cup one full breast.

Lily shivered. “Let me go.”

He bit her gently, swept his thumb over her nipple. “I think not.”

“No, Sheikh.” Her body went stiff. “Let me go.”

Last night they’d spent a lot of time exploring each other’s boundaries, testing them. Carefully pushing them. She had said ‘no’ to him many times as part of the fantasy. But this ‘no’ was different. She meant it this time.

A curious tension coiled inside him as he slowly he eased away from her. “Why? What is wrong?”

She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, long blonde hair in a glorious fall down her spine. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s fine. I just—”

“Lily.” He could read the tension in her posture. Every line of her was stiff with it.

She let out a breath, her head bent. When she spoke, her CEO front had dropped. “You don’t want this to happen again, I know. You were clear yesterday. But you should know that I find that . . . difficult.”

The tension coiled tighter inside him. “Difficult?”

“I like being with you. I like being your lover.” Another hesitation. “I like it too much to want it to end.”

Isma’il stared at her long, naked back and found his mind starting to turn over the possibilities. Of seeing her again. He had various houses throughout the world—perhaps they could meet there from time to time? Spend a few days, a few nights in each other’s arms.

Stealing a few more hours of freedom . . .

Yearning opened up inside him and for a second, it seemed like the perfect solution.

Until, logic kicked in. A few more hours, a few days, a few nights snatched here and there. Fragments of time. Fleeting moments. Because that’s all he’d ever have. He was the ruler of a country and she the CEO of an oil company; they both had very busy jobs. When would he get the time to see her? And then what would happen when he married? He would have to break it off. Settle down to the task of starting a family, getting an heir.

The tension inside him became a hard knot, impossible to unravel. No, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t use Lily like that. Because that’s what he’d be doing. Using her to clutch at those moments of freedom. And she was worth more than that. So much more.

So much more than anything you could give her.

“Then perhaps, it is for the best if we finish this now.” The words sounded cold and flat.

Her shoulders hunched. “Yes. It is.”

Isma’il cursed, hating the hurt he could hear in her voice. “You know it is not because I do not want you.”

She’d gone very still, but she said nothing, as if waiting for him to speak.

“I am a sheikh. You are a CEO. We have busy lives. One day I will marry and—”

“Those are excuses, Isma’il,” she interrupted quietly. “They’re not reasons.”

Of course they are not reasons. You know why you cannot have her. Why you can never have her.

Because nothing could erase the past. He had blood on his hands. Blood that would never come out. Blood that would taint everything he touched. That would taint her too if he let it.