He stood a full head above her. It shouldn’t surprise him that she didn’t shy away from his bulk. She was far from her days of being an innocent miss.
Her hands came around his face as though she wanted to see him with the touch of her hand. Her thumbs pressed lightly against his lips as her fingers explored his face. Shutting his eyes, he let her have her fill. There would be a breaking point to his control once he touched her. It was only fair to allow her to become acquainted with him. Or reacquainted, if she remembered him—as he hoped.
He took a deep breath and enjoyed every sweep of her measured touch. How many nights had he dreamed of having her explore him this way?
Why couldn’t he strip her of that damnable cloth shield and force her to admit the truth of their past? He wanted so badly to take her away from this place, this life. He wanted to be the only man taking care of her. The last man to ever touch her.
This burst of feeling he had for her was almost as alien to him as was backing down when he wanted to pursue something. A strange notion for him since he’d fought the institution of marriage for so long. Not that he’d avoided the prospect of marriage with her. In fact, he’d been willing to dive in headlong without a second thought.
Once, so long ago, he’d wanted to sweep her off her feet and whisk her to the altar. Had his uncle not intervened and arranged her marriage to that idiot—something his uncle had gloated about after the fact—she would be his wife now.
While she molded his features, he raised his hands to the back of her head. He was sure there was a clip threaded through her hair, holding the wisps of silk in place. She leaned away from him.
Her voice was husky, her words came in Persian. “Amir would have been explicit in this. My veil stays for the duration of the contract.”
It had still been worth the try. Would she ever allow him this privilege? Time would tell, he supposed. She had perfected this disguise, this persona, if she planned only to speak Persian. He’d not get the truth of how she had ended up in this place—not when she hid behind the façade of a Turkish princess.
When she looked as though she’d speak again, he cut in. “Shh . . . no words between us this night. I want you silent, no matter what I say to you. Your owner will discuss the contract we’ve agreed upon when I leave. Just give me all of your true self this night.” There was deeper meaning in those words.
He loosened his necktie to pull it off. He’d use it to blindfold her while he took her. The tether on his control would not last much longer; the silken threads were liable to snap if he let her do what she was trained for. He needed her in so many ways, but his physical desire was winning out. Control seemed lost to him in her presence.
Turning her around, he tied the stiff material over her eyes. He squeezed her arms before releasing her. How much would she be willing to do with him? The contract negotiations had been a blur. He’d only been thinking about her the whole while her owner had prattled on.
His emotions ran rampant, hot as an angry wildfire roaring through his body.
He would force the truth from her later. Right now all he wanted was to feel her wrapped around his body to further imprint her upon his mind. Too many fantasies about her had haunted him over the years for him to temper his lust. She stood proudly naked before him without fear and without any indication that she knew him.
The sensual little creature arched her breasts forward. His reaction was immediate. He wanted to touch every part of her, to learn what pleased her, to know what would make her scream out. To make her scream his name.
Would his dream woman come to life in his arms? Would she surrender her desires to him?
He pulled her in tight to his chest, her rear pressed against his groin lightly, teasingly. The temptation was there to grind into her, but he couldn’t—not yet. Turning her
Her hands came around his face as though she wanted to see him with the touch of her hand. Her thumbs pressed lightly against his lips as her fingers explored his face. Shutting his eyes, he let her have her fill. There would be a breaking point to his control once he touched her. It was only fair to allow her to become acquainted with him. Or reacquainted, if she remembered him—as he hoped.
He took a deep breath and enjoyed every sweep of her measured touch. How many nights had he dreamed of having her explore him this way?
Why couldn’t he strip her of that damnable cloth shield and force her to admit the truth of their past? He wanted so badly to take her away from this place, this life. He wanted to be the only man taking care of her. The last man to ever touch her.
This burst of feeling he had for her was almost as alien to him as was backing down when he wanted to pursue something. A strange notion for him since he’d fought the institution of marriage for so long. Not that he’d avoided the prospect of marriage with her. In fact, he’d been willing to dive in headlong without a second thought.
Once, so long ago, he’d wanted to sweep her off her feet and whisk her to the altar. Had his uncle not intervened and arranged her marriage to that idiot—something his uncle had gloated about after the fact—she would be his wife now.
While she molded his features, he raised his hands to the back of her head. He was sure there was a clip threaded through her hair, holding the wisps of silk in place. She leaned away from him.
Her voice was husky, her words came in Persian. “Amir would have been explicit in this. My veil stays for the duration of the contract.”
It had still been worth the try. Would she ever allow him this privilege? Time would tell, he supposed. She had perfected this disguise, this persona, if she planned only to speak Persian. He’d not get the truth of how she had ended up in this place—not when she hid behind the façade of a Turkish princess.
When she looked as though she’d speak again, he cut in. “Shh . . . no words between us this night. I want you silent, no matter what I say to you. Your owner will discuss the contract we’ve agreed upon when I leave. Just give me all of your true self this night.” There was deeper meaning in those words.
He loosened his necktie to pull it off. He’d use it to blindfold her while he took her. The tether on his control would not last much longer; the silken threads were liable to snap if he let her do what she was trained for. He needed her in so many ways, but his physical desire was winning out. Control seemed lost to him in her presence.
Turning her around, he tied the stiff material over her eyes. He squeezed her arms before releasing her. How much would she be willing to do with him? The contract negotiations had been a blur. He’d only been thinking about her the whole while her owner had prattled on.
His emotions ran rampant, hot as an angry wildfire roaring through his body.
He would force the truth from her later. Right now all he wanted was to feel her wrapped around his body to further imprint her upon his mind. Too many fantasies about her had haunted him over the years for him to temper his lust. She stood proudly naked before him without fear and without any indication that she knew him.
The sensual little creature arched her breasts forward. His reaction was immediate. He wanted to touch every part of her, to learn what pleased her, to know what would make her scream out. To make her scream his name.
Would his dream woman come to life in his arms? Would she surrender her desires to him?
He pulled her in tight to his chest, her rear pressed against his groin lightly, teasingly. The temptation was there to grind into her, but he couldn’t—not yet. Turning her
Similar Books
