by Laura Landon
Zehra came right up to him and placed a hand on his chest. He reached up to curl his fingers around her wrist, but he sucked in a breath, and she gave him a shove. He fell back into the armchair, staring up at her.
She eased down onto his lap before he could say anything to stop her. The weight of her body was welcome, the feel of her exciting beyond words. The blanket covered his knees, and he tried to fight the urge to pull it away from her body. Every muscle was rigid with tension.
“Zehra, you don’t have to—”
She put a finger to his lips. “Shhh.” The curve of her lips would have knocked him onto his backside if he hadn’t already been sitting down.
“Do you want me, Lawrence?” she asked, her eyes fixed on his mouth in a way that made him hungry beyond measure. He wanted her mouth on his body in the worst way.
He nodded. He’d never been in a situation like this before, where he was the one being seduced. “I want you so much,” he whispered, his breath coming faster.
“Then you will kiss me.” She trailed a fingertip down his cheek to his mouth. Her touch was light and gentle, but wherever she traced the pad of her finger, it burned his skin deliciously.
“But I cannot take advantage of you. Not like this. I—”
“Hush,” Zehra said, her voice even more commanding. “I do not say this out of obligation, but desire. I know my fate, and I accept what must be. But I wish to know some measure of happiness before this all ends. I want to be happy with you.” She leaned back and let the blanket drop to her waist, revealing that she was completely naked. The swell of her perfect breasts with dusky nipples were fully open to his view.
Lord, she was lovely, but her beauty wasn’t the reason he wanted to kiss her, to make love to her. It was because she was unlike any woman he’d ever met. She was brave, intelligent, warm, passionate. For all the shyness she had shown earlier, she also possessed a strength of will he’d never seen. For the first time in his life, he wanted a woman not because of her looks, but because of who she was.
“Lawrence?” She purred the word, a sweet, irresistible challenge for him to say no.
As if I could resist—she’s too damned perfect, too damned wonderful.
She curled an arm around his shoulders and leaned in, her bared breasts rubbing against his shirt.
Bloody hell.
He cupped her chin and leaned in the last inch between them, covering her mouth with his. She met his kiss eagerly, and he drank in her sweet taste. For a virgin, she had a natural ease of learning how to respond to his sensual offerings.
“You seem quite comfortable with this,” he said.
She chuckled against his lips. “I have read books on pleasure.”
“How many of these books have you read?” He pictured her studying texts like the Kama Sutra beneath candlelight.
Her wicked smile made his body rigid with need. “Many…”
He nuzzled her throat. “Then perhaps you might be able to teach me a thing or two.”
“I might indeed.”
He banded his arms around her, holding her close. This sudden unexpected need shocked him, but he didn’t stop kissing her—couldn’t stop. She trembled against him, her entire body quivering.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Her hair was still wet with rain, falling out of the loose style. Droplets fell onto her shoulders, and he ached to lick them away.
“Only a little.”
Lawrence kissed her for another long moment before he lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. She lay back, propping herself up by her elbows, and gazed up at him from beneath dark lashes. It took everything in him not to pounce on her like an inexperienced youth, fumbling with his first maid.
“I have never lain with a man before, but I believe you need your clothes off in order to proceed.” She laughed as he practically ripped his cravat and shirt off and removed his boots.
“Not necessarily,” he said with a chuckle. “But for it to be the most enjoyable, absolutely.” He reached for the front of his trousers and unfastened them. Zehra watched him with hungry eyes, making him feel like a god.
I’ll show this woman every pleasure I can. I won’t think about letting her go.
He buried the pain deep down, trying not to think about the fact that no woman had ever made him feel this way before. And perhaps never would again.
. . .
Zehra’s heart hammered as Lawrence removed his trousers. The man was beautiful, every muscle defined far more than she’d ever expected; every part of him was toned. His skin was paler than hers, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it would look to see the two of them pressed together, skin to skin.
She had decided to seduce him, afraid he would never make the move if she did not, yet she hadn’t realized just how excited and afraid she would be. Fear now hummed at the edges of her consciousness, but it was overpowered by the intense excitement that rippled through her as her desire climbed higher and higher.
He climbed up on the bed, fully exposed now, and she couldn’t help but fixate on his erect shaft. No book she’d ever read had prepared her for this. A wave of panic subsided as he lay beside her, rather than on top of her. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her, making her worries fade into nothing. He was a master of kisses—no two were the same. Each one sent her pulse skittering and her mind spinning in delicious circles.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes… How did you know?”
Lawrence chuckled. “You had the look of a skittish horse just now. We can take this as slow as you like. I promise.” His hazel eyes twinkled as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek before he began to kiss her throat.
“You know just what to say to make a lady feel comforted,” she confessed with a shy smile. “I wanted to be bold for you. But having never done this before, I am also afraid to make a mistake.”
He chuckled. “A lady never makes mistakes in bed—only men can do that. All I want is for you to be yourself. There is only you and me in this bed tonight.”
Zehra nodded, her heart filling with warmth. “Only us,” she echoed. This man was perfect—a perfect gentleman, a perfect rogue, a perfect lover.
He nuzzled her cheek and left another lingering kiss upon her lips that sent her body and heart soaring. “Yes, only us.”
She sucked in a breath as he reached her breasts, taking one nipple and sucking on it until it was a hardened nub. Zehra arched her back, moaning as he cupped her other breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple before gently pinching it between his fingers.
“Lawrence!” she gasped. Zehra gripped his hair, tugging on the strands. His warm laughter made a dark, wonderful heat build inside her, and her thighs quivered.
“Close your eyes and just feel,” he murmured as he began to kiss his way down her body.
His powerful hands were surprisingly gentle as he pushed her thighs apart. She tensed, but he didn’t yet take her. She relaxed, closing her eyes. A second later, his mouth was on her mound, his tongue licking her folds. Zehra jolted and cried out as exquisite pleasure suddenly roared through her. Everything seemed to explode in waves of fire before she came down from the height of ecstasy.
“Was that it?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Merely the beginning.” Zehra opened her eyes to see him grinning wickedly at her from between her thighs. Lawrence pushed one finger into her, and she watched in amazement as he played with her, stroking, thrusting, swirling. The sensations his touch evoked were beyond words. The intensity, the rippling frissons beneath her skin, like a thousand tiny bolts of lightning, left her weak and trembling. His intense eyes burned into hers as he seemed to seek out those spots that made her tremble and burn even hotter.
“Lord, you are beautiful,” he whispered, his tone reverent.
He was driving her mad with his touch. The pleasure that had built so fast the first time now crept up slowly on her, but it was unbearable. She needed some kind of release.
“Please, Lawrence. You’ve teased me long enough.” She wiggled on the bed, trying to sit up, but he moved then, sliding between her thighs, his arms caging her shoulders. He gazed down at her.
“Are you ready for me?”
She lifted her chin and smiled up at him. “For you, I am ready.”
Lawrence brushed his cheek against hers before pressing faint kisses on her lips. He deepened their kiss as he came into her and began to thrust.
The feel of him pressing into her, merging with her, was unlike anything Zehra could have imagined. There was a slight moment of pain, but it faded as Lawrence pushed deeper. Seconds later his kiss turned harder, but Zehra enjoyed it. She dug her nails into his back, clawing at him as his hips moved back and forth. It was the most wondrous thing she’d ever experienced, the joy of their bodies, the heat of their skin, and the beat of her heart pulsing as pleasure rippled through her entire body.
Stars burst across her eyes and she let out a whimper as her body went blessedly limp. Above her, Lawrence breathed her name, kissed her, and with one last thrust went still. He continued to place featherlight kisses upon her lips as she closed her eyes.
Zehra could have died in that moment from pure contentment. She felt such exquisite bliss in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Every fear, every worry—nothing could destroy the sense of passion and safety she felt in that moment.
“How do you feel?” he asked. His breath stirred a lock of hair close to her ear. It tickled, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Wonderful, truly wonderful. And you?” She held her breath, afraid to hope he might feel the same way.
“Simply wonderful.” He lifted his head to smile at her.
They lay cocooned together, their bodies entwined. Lawrence traced a fingertip along the faint scar that ran just above her collarbone. The scar that Al-Zahrani had left her, a reminder of who she belonged to. She shivered.
I am not his. I will die before I suffer him ever again.
“How did you get this?” he asked.
Her lashes lowered. “When my parents were killed, I fled, as you know, but…” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “The man who betrayed my father, who cut him down, was an Arabian named Samir Al-Zahrani. He took me captive as I fled. I thought he was helping me, but I soon learned the truth. Another shah wanted to take over our lands, and I was Al-Zahrani’s payment in exchange for betraying my father. I was to become part of his harem.”
“He hurt you?” Lawrence’s voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that would have scared her had he been directing his tone at her.
“Yes, more than once, but he never took me. He thought he had the rest of my life to torture me with the promise of sharing his bed. Instead, he spent a week punishing me for what he called my ‘insolence’. Striking me with his hand at first, then later the sting of a whip, and finally he cut me with a small blade. All I did was argue for my freedom.”
Lawrence’s arms tightened around her, and he closed his eyes, his lips pressed in a firm line. “If I ever have the fortune of meeting this man, I will kill him.”
She gasped, cupping his chin and forcing him to look at her. “No! You must never say that. He’s a brutal man without honor. He would kill you for simply being in the same room as me.” She wanted to warn him that Al-Zahrani was still looking for her, but if she told Lawrence this, she feared he would move heaven and earth to find the man and try to kill him. She couldn’t have him put his life at risk.
“I never want you to fear that man again. But he’s not here. You’re far away from him. You’re safe,” Lawrence promised.
If only it were true… But she feared the demon-hearted man was walking the streets of London right now and Lawrence didn’t know, couldn’t know. She tucked her hand against his chest and closed her eyes, focusing on the beating of his heart.
“My mother once said that when you lie with a man, you grow close in body and mind, close enough to share each other’s dreams.” She drew a fingertip between his pectoral muscles, imagining her mind and body connecting to his. “Do you think that is possible?”
Lawrence moved one of his hands up and down her lower back in a gentle motion, one that would lull her into a deep sleep if she let it.
“Possible, I suppose. I’ve never really spent much time sleeping with other women. I suppose I shouldn’t admit that, the part about other women…” His voice trailed off, and she chuckled.
“You are allowed to have a past, Lawrence, as am I. I do not judge you for the women you have loved before me.”
“I cannot say I loved them,” he said, his voice distant. “It was always for a bit of fun, you know, scratching the old proverbial itch.”
She giggled. “More silly words.” She lifted her head to rest her chin on his chest and watched him, grinning at his obvious discomfort at their discussion.
His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her. “You really don’t mind, about the other women?”
“No. Those other women made you the wonderful lover you are today. I benefit from their guidance.”
With a soft laugh, he gave her bottom a little pat. “Indeed. They taught me many things…” Then he slid his fingers between the cleft of her bottom and down to her folds, pushing his fingers into her lightly. She moaned at his touch, feeling the sensitive nerves spring back to life. He played with her for a long moment, making sure she was wet and hungry for him, then lifted one of her legs over his hip and brought her closer. He pushed into her slower this time, gently, their bodies rocking as they lay on their sides, facing one another. It was somehow more intimate than before, more tender and sweet, even as he possessed her in every possible way.
I belong to him. I will always belong to this sweet, seductive man…
The thought made her throat tighten, and she leaned into him, kissing him desperately as they climaxed together.
Lawrence held her close, his breath uneven in her ear as he struggled to recover. Neither of them spoke for many long minutes. They simply existed together in the same space, bodies, hearts, and minds connected in a way Zehra didn’t fully understand but had longed for ever since she had learned such a thing was possible.
After several long minutes, Lawrence heaved a sigh. “I should hate to leave this bed, but I’m famished. You must be as well. I’ll fetch us our food. The lads should have it ready by now.”
Zehra didn’t like the thought of him leaving her or the thought of them separating, but she reluctantly let go of him, and he withdrew from the bed. When he stood, his dark red hair was tousled from where her hands had run through the strands. It was a simple marking, but a marking nonetheless. She bit back a proud smile.
“You look like a cat who’s fed on the cream,” he said with a chuckle.
“Even more silly words, though these I understand.” She wrinkled her nose. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”
He tapped her under the chin, still grinning. “Not at all. I like to see you smile. It makes your eyes shine like sapphires.”
His praise should not affect her as strongly as it did. Yet she could not stop smiling even if she tried.
“Your chemise should be dry by now.” He walked over to the fire, completely naked. She had a chance to admire his firm buttocks and the lean lines of his muscled legs. Her body was exhausted, but she still burned with arousal. He removed the delicate chemise from the fire grating and walked back to her.
Lawrence held it out to her and she accepted it, loving the way the fire’s heat clung to the fabric. She pressed it to her bare chest for a moment, sighing in pleasure before she slipped it over her head and sat back on the bed while he dressed.
“Stay right where you are,” he ordered with a wink before he stepped outside.
Zehra chuckled and lay back in bed. She was a little tender, but it felt good in a strange sort of way. She’d passed into a new state of womanhood. The mysteries she’d heard about in whispers had answers now, and none of the texts she’d read had compared to
the reality of being with a man.
Zehra snuggled deeper into the bed and closed her eyes. She saw Lawrence’s face, felt his kiss, and sensed his hands on her body, and his weight atop hers. Even though she was more than two thousand miles away from her parents’ palace, she felt like she was home. And it was all because she was falling in love with the man who would soon be forced to send her away. Tears pooled in her closed eyes.
Don’t think about leaving. I have a few days yet before I have to say goodbye.
. . .
Lawrence leaned back against the closed door, pausing to reflect over what had just happened. He had made love to Zehra, and it had been… Lord, it had been unlike anything he’d ever felt with any woman. He had been focused solely on her pleasure, showing her how intimacy between a man and woman should be.
And yet she’d been the one to teach him things. Like how staring into her eyes as she came apart was like watching a sunset over a lake: brilliant blue water bathed in gold light. It consumed him, drowned him in its ecstasy.
She’d been so open with herself that he hadn’t been able to maintain his emotional distance as he did with past lovers. Being with her, even just holding her in his arms, made him want to tell her a thousand things and to ask her just as many questions. For the first time in his life, he was fascinated by someone in a way he couldn’t get enough of. That was why he dragged himself away from the bed—not for food, but to clear his head.
I cannot let myself get attached. She will leave me in less than a week, and I’ll never see her again.
A weary sigh escaped him. He pushed away from the door and walked down to the taproom, where he found a barmaid and asked for the trays of food he’d requested earlier. While she fetched him dinner, he waited in the corner by the stairs. Suddenly he had that odd notion of being watched again. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he glanced about. Men and women occupied the common room, and many were gathered around the fire in the hearth. A few men glanced his way, but they were laughing and completely preoccupied.
