The Sultan Demands His Heir Page 12

  His promise settled her nerves, as did, astonishingly, his intimation that she was his first innocent. For some reason that knowledge made the already tight band of unrecognisable emotion in her chest tauten. She had no time to dwell on it, however. He was taking her mouth again, although this time the kiss was gentle. Or as gentle as a powerful man who rode the very edge of his control could be. One hand left her hair to retake control of her thigh.

  ‘Esmeralda.’ Her name was a hoarse command as he opened her even wider.

  One she heeded by lifting her gaze to his. Eyes almost black with intense lust seared hers as the crown of his penis breached her core. Dizzy excitement warred with the unknown.

  ‘Put your arms around me,’ he ordered.

  She obeyed. Her fingers slid around and latched onto the hot, smooth skin of his lower back.

  Then, with a single, guttural oath, he pushed himself inside her.

  The sharpest lance of pain arched through her, snatching a helpless scream from her throat. His mouth clamped on hers, devouring the sound as if it belonged to him. And right at that moment it did. They both stilled, breathing ragged, bodies clenched as they fought through pleasure and pain. The pain wasn’t as fleeting as he’d said. It gripped her as if wanting her to remember this moment. To imprint on her psyche the awe and magnitude of sharing her body with Zaid Al-Ameen.

  After a handful of heartbeats he lifted his head to look at her as he drew back and surged into her again.

  Pain diminished, dissolved, then gave way to pleasure. A different, more potent pleasure than that she’d experienced a little while ago. On the third thrust, Zaid buried himself to the hilt inside her. They both groaned.

  His thrusts gained pace, the strokes of possession masterful.

  His hand left her thigh to clamp on her hip, holding her in place as he kept his promise to make her completely his. And through it all he watched her, his gaze intense as he absorbed every particle of her pleasure, fused it with his.

  Her eyes rolled. Her fingers dug into his back. The scream that rose this time was one of awe and bliss she’d never dreamed possible.

  ‘Zaid...’ Her sigh of his name was meant to ground her in this room, on this plane of reality for a little while longer, but it was no use.

  She was soaring once again, but this time towards a higher state of bliss she knew instinctively would change her for ever. His relentless pace told her he intended to make sure of it.

  Sweat bathed her skin, bathed his as the intensity of their coupling grew to a breaking point. She clamped her legs around his waist in an instinctive move. One that pleased him enough to draw a hoarse moan from him. And then, between one moment and the next, she was caught in the grip of a wild, ecstatic fever.

  ‘Zaid!’

  ‘Yes,’ he groaned above her. ‘Give in to it. Take all of it.’

  ‘Oh... God.’ Surrender had never felt so right. Esme flew higher than before, but not before she felt him lower his head to whisper in her ear.

  ‘Habiba.’ Sweetheart. Darling. She’d heard many Ja’ahrians use that term of endearment. But coming from Zaid at that moment, Esme felt as if he’d showered her with a thousand priceless gems.

  Tears prickled the back of her eyes, and finally, she let go completely.

  * * *

  Zaid couldn’t tear his gaze from the beautiful woman writhing in ecstasy beneath him. Everything about her captivated him. It had from the first moment he’d seen her, but nothing had prepared him for this. For his total absorption in her pleasure or the reality that it triggered his own to an unconscionable level.

  He never wanted it to end. Although he knew, like all things, that it would. It must. He didn’t understand the part of him that already deeply mourned that future loss. Neither did he want to dwell on it right now. That would be a problem for when the sun rose.

  For now...

  Her back arched from the bed as bliss rolled over her. Presented with the perfection of her breasts, he lowered his head and fed his wild hunger. She felt exquisite. Her body was a magnificent prize he wanted to gorge on for a very long time.

  As for the gift of her innocence she’d bestowed on him? The thrill of primitive pleasure that had stormed his blood at her confession had only intensified the moment he’d penetrated her. He hadn’t needed the visual evidence he was sure was staining his sheets to know she’d spoken the truth. He’d felt it and revelled shamelessly in it.

  She gave another cry beneath him, her nails scoring grooves in his back as her pleasure reached its zenith. He held out for as long as he could. Until, feeling the strong ripples of her flesh milking his own, he finally succumbed to the sublime ecstasy that beckoned.

  The roar that ripped from his throat was as primal as the sexual act itself. Zaid wasn’t ashamed to admit it was the most electric, intense climax he’d ever experienced. One that perhaps could be repeated, given that even as their bodies cooled in the aftermath, he was already anticipating their next coupling?

  He gathered her close, exhaling in satisfaction when her hand stole up his body to rest on his chest. He smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Watched her beautiful mouth curve in a tired post-coital smile and her stunning eyes begin to droop in slumber.

  Reluctantly, he let her sleep because she needed to recover from her first sexual experience. And also because he wanted time to sift through the questions crowding his brain. Although one question that had gnawed at him had been answered.

  Surely if she’d held onto her virginity in the hope of gaining the maximum prize for such a gift, she would have been better off staying in the high-rolling world her father favoured, where wealthy men paid a handsome price for such acquisitions, and not as a lowly social worker serving the less fortunate?

  He didn’t doubt that there was more to the estrangement between father and daughter than she let on, but in this Zaid was sure she was playing with a straight bat. It was the same honesty and integrity with which she’d gone about helping his people in the past weeks, many of whom she’d befriended in the process. According to Fawzi, Esmeralda Scott had gained, in such a short time, the respect and admiration of the people she’d met. Her daily reports had also shown an in-depth understanding of how to best serve each community. Zaid had known very quickly that he couldn’t have picked a better candidate for the job of helping him to rebuild the Ja’ahrian communities his uncle had neglected so badly.

  The only fly in the ointment was her father.

  In the dimming firelight of his tent Zaid’s jaw clenched. So far, her one weakness seemed to be Jeffrey Scott. Perhaps the sooner his fate was determined, the sooner she could focus properly on other matters.

  Like on his kingdom? On him?

  His arms tightened around her. Why not? The memorable interlude they’d shared in his bed would run its course eventually, as most things did. But there was no rational argument for that course not to be prolonged for as long as possible if they both wished it to. No reason at all.

  So he would make that happen.

  Satisfied, he pressed another kiss to her forehead, then let the blissful sleep that beckoned finally take him.

  * * *

  Even though the tent was still in darkness when she woke, Esme knew dawn was creeping very close. The coals in the fire pit no longer blazed high, although the room still held its sultry warmth. A cockerel’s crow a moment later was accompanied by sounds of a rising camp.

  She kept her eyes shut as memories of last night surged along with wave after wave of incredulity. She’d given her virginity to Zaid. The experience had been awe-inspiring both during, and afterwards, when she’d woken up more than once in the middle of the night to find his strong arms clamped around her as if he wouldn’t let her go. Each time, she’d returned to sleep with her heart lifting with an emotion she was too scared to label.

  That undefined emotion and the fact that she instinctively knew she was alone in bed right now kept her from opening her eyes
just yet. Once she did, she’d have to face the day. Have to face the fact that she’d changed for ever.

  So she listened to the camp sounds for a minute. Then, bracing herself, she opened her eyes. The confirmation that Zaid wasn’t in the room made her stomach dip alarmingly. Esme firmed her lips and sat up in bed. She’d known this was a one-time thing. The quicker she learned to accept that fact the quicker she could get back to her assigned role in Zaid’s life. Except that stern talking to brought nothing but a tightening in her chest and a yearning for that not to be the case.

  Well, wishes weren’t horses...

  Determinedly, she pushed her tousled hair back from her face, and was looking around for her clothes when the tent flap to a previously unseen opening in the bedroom folded back to reveal the man dominating her thoughts.

  Zaid was shirtless. His dark hair was ruffled as if fingers—her fingers—had tossed it into its sexily dishevelled state. Dark shadow graced his unshaven jaw, giving him a rakish look that sent a dozen sparks of renewed need firing through her belly. And the soft black pants that rode oh-so-low on his hips? She swallowed, unable to decide which part of the magnificent man to feast her eyes upon. Memories of all that power, all that majesty, devoted to her pleasure in the dark of night made her stomach flip in giddy excitement, despite the voice inside her head that screamed caution.

  His steps slowed as his gaze fixed on her, his eyes growing a shade darker as his gaze roved over her body. Belatedly, she remembered she too was bare from the waist up. Self-consciously, she dragged the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  His eyes narrowed a touch as he approached. ‘Good morning, Esmeralda,’ he rasped when he stopped beside the bed.

  Suddenly tongue-tied, she dragged her gaze from his mouthwatering torso to his face. ‘Um...hi.’

  He moved as if to climb onto the bed, but then he froze. Her furtive glance showed his gaze fixed at a point on the bed. She followed his gaze, then blushed furiously at the sight of tell-tale stains on the white sheet.

  Her hand dashed out, her intention to tuck the sheet away. He caught hold of her wrist, his grip implacable as his gaze returned to hers.

  ‘No.’ That was all he said. But he didn’t need to say any more. The primitive look in his eyes, increased a hundredfold from last night, said it all. He’d been her first and he wanted the evidence on full display. Had this been a thousand years ago, she was certain he would have roared and beaten his male chest in arrogant triumph.

  For some absurd reason, considering the fiercely charged moment, she had the strongest urge to smile. An urge she couldn’t quite prevent.

  His eyes gleamed as he caught her expression. ‘Something amusing you, habiba?’

  She blushed. Inhaled shakily as the fingers that held her caressed the pulse racing at her wrist. ‘You should see your face. You look...’

  ‘Tell me,’ he invited as she hesitated.

  ‘You look like you’ve savaged a dozen predators in order to win some sort of grand prize,’ she said with an embarrassed smile.

  His expression grew even more charged, his gaze slowly lowering to the sheet and then back up to hers. He let go of her wrist, prowling onto the bed until he was poised over her like the fierce marauder she’d likened him to. The kiss he slanted over her mouth was the last word in shameless, dominant claiming. The power of it bore her back onto the bed, even as she parted her lips to take everything he had to give.

  The claiming was long and thorough, her senses swimming by the time he lifted his head. Topaz-dark eyes gleamed ferociously at her.

  ‘I look like this because I have won a grand prize. Make no mistake,’ he assured her. ‘One I intend to keep.’

  Esme was floundering to grasp the meaning of the last part of his statement when he rose off the bed again, drew the sheet away from her body and scooped her up in his arms.

  Face flaming anew, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his throat. ‘Where are we going?’ she mumbled when he began to stride across the room.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he replied.

  A little alarmed, she turned her head just as he stepped through the tent flap.

  The high walls were made of the same hardened leather used to construct some of the sandstorm-proof shelters around the camp. This one was over ten feet high, built around a private oasis garden, in the middle of which stood a natural spring pool surrounded by a profusion of exotic shrubs and flowers.

  The breath-taking sight made Esme temporarily forget she was naked in Zaid’s arms, her gasp at the natural beauty surrounding her echoing in the dawn-encroaching space around them. ‘Oh, my God, this place is amazing!’

  A hint of a smile touched his lips as he strolled towards the pool. ‘I’m glad you like it. My security team insisted on the walls to guard my privacy. I didn’t want it at the time, but I am glad of it now,’ he murmured in her ear as he slowly lowered her to her feet.

  He glided his fingers down her side to rest on her hips as he took her mouth in another searing kiss. By the time he raised his head their bodies were plastered together, their breathing ragged. The strong hands clamped on her hips moved to cup her behind, long enough for Esme to become bracingly aware of his potent arousal against her belly before he drew her away.

  ‘Take off my pants, habiba,’ he ordered huskily. The combination of the American accent he’d never quite lost and the lyrical Arabic of the endearment was so sexy she couldn’t stop the decadent shiver that raced through her.

  She slowly disentangled her arms from around his neck, drifting her fingers down his naked shoulders. Last night she’d been too overawed to linger in her exploration of him.

  She still was, to be honest. But having been granted this chance she thought might never come again, Esme seized it with both hands. She drew her fingers over his collarbone, past the steady pulse that beat beneath taut bronze skin, over the solid beauty of his pecs. This time she lingered over the flat male nipples that hungrily puckered beneath her touch. She yearned to press her mouth to them, but she hesitated, her gaze flicking up to his.

  His eyes were at a watchful half-mast, his breath held as he waited to see her next move.

  Something in his eyes lent her a confidence she hadn’t thought herself capable of. Or it could have been the relentless hunger that pounded through her bloodstream. Whatever. Esme lowered her head and flicked her tongue over the tiny nub as he’d done to her so many times during their lovemaking last night.

  The hot hiss that issued from his lips made her freeze. About to straighten, she jerked in surprise when he speared his fingers through her hair and held her to her task. She repeated it. Revelled in the fierce tremble that shook his powerful frame. Overjoyed at his reaction, she kissed her way across his massive chest to the twin peak, all the while exploring the rest of his glorious body with her fingers.

  He allowed her to explore for countless minutes, his breath growing louder and rougher as her fingers drifted lower, and her mouth and teeth left fiery trails on his skin.

  When she reached the waistband of his pants, Esme took a quick, steadying breath, then slipped her hand beneath the soft material.

  The power and might of him sent her temperature soaring. Steel wrapped in velvet. Majestic. Potent. Insanely intoxicating. She was so intent on familiarising herself with that part of his body she didn’t hear his tortured groan until he grasped her hand and drew it away.

  ‘How quickly you recognise and seize your power, jamila.’ His voice was strained. Gravel rough. He kissed her palm, then dropped her hand back to his waistband with an autocratic quirk of his brow.

  Reminded of her initial task, she took hold of his trousers and tugged them down, unable to stop the renewed rush of heat to her face when he stepped out of them and stood naked, proud and ready before her.

  He was so beautiful he robbed her of breath.

  The deeply magical moment continued as he led her down natural steps hewn into the rock of the pool. Cool and silky, the wa
ter submerged them to chest level before Zaid stopped. His fingers returned to spike through her hair, drawing her into his arms to kiss her one more time. After that he swam next to her before grabbing a sponge on a nearby surface. He washed her with slow, languid strokes, then washed himself with brisker movements. She read the intent in his eyes long before he tugged her decisively to the edge of the pool.

  ‘I only meant for us to bathe in case you were sore after last night, but I’ve been wanting to do this again for hours, Esmeralda,’ he murmured, drawing her down on top of him as he sat on the lowest step.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she managed to gasp out.

  Kisses peppered the corners of her mouth, her throat, before he ravenously latched onto her nipples. Hunger, deep and unstoppable, stung to life between her legs. Legs that he arranged on either side of his hips even while he continued to ravage her breasts. Heart racing, she braced her hands on his shoulders, anticipation making her rock forward in blind search of the pleasure only he could bring. Her feminine core found the head of his penis.

  Abruptly, he tore his mouth from her nipples, his face a taut mask of untamed need. With one hand he grasped himself, the other bracing her as he surged upward, seating himself inside her in one powerful thrust.

  Her gasp mingled with his groan. Their lips fused for one charged second before they separated again, returning to stare at each other as if their union needed the connection of their gazes. Breathless, silent, he withdrew and powered back inside.

  Her mouth parted on another soundless gasp. She met him halfway on the third thrust, earning her a grunt of approval that ramped up the pleasure stealing through her bloodstream.

  Eyes still fused to hers, he nodded. ‘Yes, that’s it.’

  Movement as old as time dictated the roll of her hips as she rose for a moment, then drove back down. The sensation of power and control and pleasure mingled in a heady potion, driving her to seek more and more of it.

  As the water splashed around them, Zaid’s hands left her to spread long arms on the rim of the pool, his head going back as he lounged, imperiously like the master and commander he was, against the rock. Then half-closed eyes the colour of polished topaz watched her with heated encouragement as she propelled them both to the edge of the glorious abyss.