Carol Marinelli - Bound To The Sheikh
Page 4
The mattress indented at her feet and more roughly this time he parted her legs and she felt her hips lift and then the warm, power of him as he ran his moist head over her sex.
“Take me.”
She could not wait a moment longer but Ashim looked down at her flushed and pink, wanting and warm and he reminded her what she had said.
“You don’t beg.”
“No.” She panted the word out, she pulled at the restraints only because her sex ached and she wanted her hands there. Lost between a dark fantasy in a hotel room and the knowledge that Ashim was here.
She heard the tear of foil and it was a sound that had been missing in her dark, dirty dreams yet as she heard a soft sigh from him she knew that it was on and the moment was surely close.
The yacht lurched, just a little but enough to give the sensation of falling, she felt as if she were falling as his fingers parted her labia and she heard his ragged breathing.
Now, she wanted to scream and she fought it, but then, when she felt the wet of his mouth and the rough of his chin claim her, she awoke from her fantasy and sobbed no.
“Not like that…”
“Yes.”
Whoever had loved her before him, Ashim knew, had not loved her enough.
He would kiss her sensually, he would taste her, and he worked her slick sex with his mouth, with his tongue and she lay there fighting the pleasure he delivered over and over.
She was on the edge of orgasm.
Almost there as his skilled mouth, over and over, delivered magic.
Yet she held onto it, her thighs shaking her arms aching as she struggled against the restraints and twisted in his strong arms.
“Stop fighting it,” Ashim ordered, tasting her musk and wanting more but then he stilled when he heard her pale voice.
“I have to.”
His weight was heavy; his mouth bruised hers as he crushed her with his weight. One solid thigh parted hers and she let out a scream called freedom as he stabbed inside her. The power over her, inside of her, set her free.
“Ashim!” she stopped, she did not need his name, yet it came out like a beg as he gave her more and pressed it and she fought herself no more.
Emily screamed to his palm and then Ashim felt the orgasm she had held onto vibrate though her body, her intimate muscles dragging him and usually he could hold on forever but not tonight.
He thrust without restraint, even her teeth rattled to his motions deep within. She felt the delicious final swell of him and a guttural male moan as he moved to the call and then shot deep inside.
Ashim’s hand moved from her mouth and their lips locked in a hot. panting kiss and the tie slid from eyes and she saw stars.
Real ones.
A navy sky awaited beyond his shoulder and there was the dance of tiny lights and he was still inside her, their final pulses still arousing the other, and she wanted to curl up and cry.
He kissed salty tears.
“Let go,” Ashim said, for he knew she was fighting to hold onto them.
“I can’t,” Emily admitted.
Sex, he had dealt with, but she would never share her tears.
That was a vow she had long ago made.
Chapter Seven
Emily awoke to the sound of lapping water but not for a moment did she wonder where she was.
She could never forget last night.
She lay on her back.
Her body ached, her sex felt swollen, her breasts were tender, and her lips felt slightly bruised.
For first time she took in her surroundings—the vast bed that they lay in, the expensive furnishings, and she looked up and smiled, because she had seen stars last night.
Real ones—Emily thought, as she looked up to a huge skylight that, even from below deck, allowed for the sky to be seen.
She felt as if she were floating and then she looked to the side but not to the one where Ashim lay.
The silk bedding lay tumbled on the floor and they both lay naked, and had thoroughly explored the other, yet she still hadn’t properly seen him.
Now she did.
Emily rolled over onto her side to the sight of him sleeping on his back. Ashim’s black hair was tousled, his jaw more unshaven. His sensual mouth, now bruised by hers, was slightly parted. She wanted to move a little closer and to kiss him awake but she did not know how that kiss might be received.
What happened after a one night stand?
Emily didn’t know.
Her gaze drifted down, his skin was the color of rich caramel, like the soft center of her favorite chocolate and still she fought not to taste him. She wanted her tongue on dark flat nipples, for her fingers to feel that snake of dark hair but she kept her hands to herself.
God, he was so very beautiful, and made more so that he slept through her slow perusal and Emily took one lingering look of what she soon must say goodbye to.
His cock lay long and tumescent on his thigh and, as if aware of her want, she watched it thicken and stretch and it would take just a breath or slight stroke of her finger, or even mere patience to see it further rise.
She wanted to make love, she wanted to intimately taste him as he had her last night and she fought not to kneel up and wake him with her mouth.
It was more than that she wanted though.
Emily wanted all that usually came after such an awakening—a lazy Sunday breakfast in bed and to more get to know this delicious stranger who had awoken her, but surely that broke the unspoken rules of what had taken place last night?
It had been a one night stand and one that she would never regret but Emily now realized, Cathy had also been right—saying goodbye to Ashim was going to hurt more than she had allowed for last night.
Perhaps she wasn’t even supposed to hang around for goodbye, Emily thought. She didn’t want to leave his bed and yet she made herself and climbed out and went into the bathroom. It was as luxurious as any five-star hotel. Actually more so, but Emily wasn’t sure if she should make use of the facilities.
She was a little bit dizzy, though that was from hunger; she had had nothing to eat since lunchtime yesterday.
Her eyes lit on a new toothbrush in a box. Clearly the maids were used to him bringing home company and so Emily had a very quick shower and did what she could to tidy up but her small bag was up on deck.
As were her clothes.
Emily wrapped in a towel around herself and padded out to the bedroom and she knelt to retrieve her shredded knickers when she heard a familiar phrase.
“Puis-je vous aider?”
Emily laughed.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”
Emily blushed as she realised just how provocative that statement was but that was who she was pretending to be, she remembered, and provoke it did because his hand moved down to his hardening cock.
She was so contrary, Ashim thought as he saw her blush. He saw her glance down to his hand but then looked away and stood up, more awkward dressed in a towel than she had been when she was naked.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the hotel,” Emily answered. She was certainly old enough to know better than to expect more from last night. “I can’t find my…” She let out a small groan. “I left my shoes back on the beach.”
“No you didn’t,” Ashim said. “I collected them while you spoke with your friend—they are up on deck.”
“With my dress,” Emily sighed as she thought of the staff when she took her walk of shame to retrieve her clothes and then loaded onto his speedboat to be taken to shore.
“Come back to bed.”
“I’d better not,” Emily shook her head but only because it might take pliers to get her out a second time. “I’ve got to call work.”
“You can call from here,” Ashim would not be put off. “What do flight attendants get up to on their days off?” Ashim asked. “Come with me to Monte Carlo today. I will arrange for a helicopter to bring you back tonight…”
Emily shook her head.
Again she had said no to him.
And look where that had led last night, Ashim thought.
“Come back to bed.”
He pulled up the sheet from the floor and then he moved over.
The bed was so huge that there was absolutely no need for him to do so but the gesture was tempting and so too was the deep of his voice as he delivered his order. Emily climbed onto a sheet that was warm from him and he covered them with the other one and then took her into his arms.
It was more intimacy than she had unexpected to say the very least.
“How hungry are you?” Ashim asked. “You were already starving when I first met you.”
“I nearly ate the toothpaste,” Emily admitted.
“I was a poor host last night,” Ashim said and Emily laughed.
“I don’t think either of us could have sat through a meal.”
He reached for the phone and spoke in Arabic and then gave her a very light kiss and pulled her deeper into his arms.
“When do you work again?” Ashim asked.
“I thought you didn’t need my résumé,” Emily answered a little tartly and she both felt and heard his soft laugh and then the stroke of his hand on her arm. “Tomorrow.” She relented. “I fly to Switzerland.”
“What shall you do today?”
She was about to admit the truth, that her day would be spent shopping for local ingredients and planning an amazing meal—Princess Alice loathed corporate caters and insisted on fresh local produce bought and prepared by the woman who would serve it.
But Emily did not want to reveal anymore of herself to Ashim.
He thought her a wild woman who ran off with dark, sexy strangers into the night. She lay for a quiet moment and thought about the woman she had never been and all the things she had never done.
“I’ll probably hire a car and head to St. Tropez.”
Yes, Emily thought, she might just do that.
It was as if a bolt had loosened and it had been loosened by him.
“Shop,” Emily smiled deciding that she would. Always, always she had held onto money. At first to save for the wedding and their house, then medical bills and equipment.
“I’m going to hit the shops,” she said it more deliberately this time. Her mind was made up. “I’m going to have a perfect day.”
After a very perfect night.
“What will you do after the shops?” Ashim asked. “Tell me more about your perfect day.”
Emily didn’t know. There was a huge gap between being single in her teens and being widowed close to thirty.
She didn’t know who she was without being engaged or married and she certainly didn’t know how to be a widow.
Emily just wanted to find who she was.
“Lie topless in the sun, I’m going to do that.” Emily looked up and smiled into his amber eyes and saw that they were flecked in gold and now, not awkwardly, just as naturally as breathing she reached up and kissed him.
A deep, morning kiss from mouths swollen from last night and his tongue was gentle on hers.
“And then?” Ashim asked pulling back.
“Dinner,” Emily said.
“And then?”
He was pushing for her to say bed, Emily knew, for his hand had captured hers and was moving it down but she teased him with a smile.
“I might go to a beach club and dance through the night.”
She would.
Emily was going to go back to being nineteen and do the things she had never done.
“Then it’s off to Switzerland, maybe a few days there and then home.”
And it was that word that had the smiles fade from each other’s mouth.
“What do you do in your down time?” Ashim asked. “When you are home?”
He was crossing the line, both of them knew it.
Yet he wanted to know more about the mystery of Emily.
She didn’t know how to answer; Emily didn’t want to depress the mood. She didn’t want her two worlds to meet and so her answer was evasive though she did speak her truth as she looked deep ever more deeply into his eyes. “I dream of the next flight.”
Breakfast was served and she sat up in bed, blushing as the maid delivered a huge silver tray and another one came in with her clothes.
Ashim spoke with the maid for a moment and Emily saw that she frowned but nodded to whatever Ashim had said and then left.
When they were alone, he handed her a glass and she took a sip of a sweet, fragrant drink.
Mint, melon, and a dash of musky rosewater Emily tasted on her tongue.
He sliced a pastry and instead of fruit it was filled with lamb and slivers of pistachio and he lifted it up to her lips.
She was so, so hungry and he fed her so, so slowly.
Sometimes he would pull the food back, just as she went to bite. Thick dates, sticky fruits she licked his fingers, because the best taste was him.
Then she felt the lurch of the yacht and she looked up from his hand to a sky that was moving.
“Where are we going?”
“St. Tropez,” Ashim said and moved now to kiss her. “For Emily’s perfect day.”
Chapter Eight
“I have to go back to the hotel and get my things, I don’t have…” Emily didn’t finish what she had been about to say but even her knickers were in shreds. “I really should go back and charge my phone.”
“No,” Ashim shook his head. “If you go back then your work might have rung or your friend might again try to dissuade you and we will lose…” it was Ashim who didn’t finish his sentence this time.
“Lose what?”
“Whatever it is that we’ve found.”
They had found something both knew it and, yes, it was too precious to risk and so she nodded.
“Don’t worry,” Ashim said as the maid bought down Emily’s clothes. “I shall take care of everything.”
Ashim showered as Emily put on all she had—a lilac dress more suited to a night out and silver sandals that rubbed.
Not wanting the maids to find her torn knickers she put them into her small bag, deciding to throw them away later today. As she did she caught sight of her rings and blew out a guilty breath.
She would deal with her thoughts later, Emily decided, and snapped the little bag closed.
They were on borrowed time and both knew it.
What mattered now was making the most of this precious day.
Ashim had ignored the concern in the maid’s eyes when he had told her to inform the captain as to his change of plans.
Again.
He had been summoned home by the king after all.
They took a slow, lazy pace from Cannes and some days, Emily found out, were just made for sailing.
They passed Palais de Congrés and Emily could see the hotel she had a room at and on, ever on, the yacht idly took them. The coastline was stunning and she would love to shout stop! But only to be as free as a woman diving from a boat into the azure ocean, or to be like that couple in a canoe paddling closer to shore.
She enjoyed every moment and Ashim watched her as she folded her arms in a hug of sheer pleasure as they approached Pampelonne Beach at St. Tropez.
“It’s amazing,” Emily admitted. “I thought flying was my thing but…” she stopped. Certainly she would not be getting used to this! Mooring fees in St. Tropez, even for a day, ran into the thousands and it was the first time she had really thought of his wealth.
She wanted to know more about him. About his acting, about his life, yet perhaps it would be better not to know, Emily thought—she was already into him far deeper than she had intended to be.
People looked, of course they did.
His yacht was impressive and here was another playboy coming into St. Tropez
with his latest squeeze.
It was a new world to Emily and she tried to relax into it, to just walk up past a beach club where heads turned as hers had the night he had arrived in her life.
Ashim was wearing black jeans and a gunmetal grey top that was tight enough to assure that the body beneath was hot. He had on his dark glasses and Emily truly wished she had hers with her. Oh, she tried to look as if she did this every day but she knew she didn’t look the part. They strolled through the narrows streets of the village but as he halted outside a very exclusive boutique she baulked.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The door was being held open for them and Ashim took her hand and led her in.
Inside, he spoke with the assistant and she watched as he handed her a black credit card and Emily was conflicted.
“You don’t have to…” Emily said as he came over. She felt like a prostitute, as if he was paying her for last night but worse than that she was naked beneath her lilac dress. “Ashim,” she whispered, she had no choice but to say it now. “I don’t even have any knickers on…”
Nothing fazed him.
He walked over to a rack of the sexiest underwear and selected some cerise ones then he looked up to her where she stood, knickerless and blushing, and selected scarlet ones instead and handed them to her. “I’m going to go to the cafe next door. Just take your time, whatever catches your eye. Buy it.” He looked at her worried eyes and that was not what today was about. “Just enjoy yourself, Emily.”
Emily stood a little giddy and breathless when he had gone.
The assistant, Adilene, spoke better English than Emily’s French and took her through to a stunning dressing room lined with mirrors. She opened some sparkling water and poured it. “Would you like some champagne?” she offered just as Emily realized that she had her own changing room for the duration of her time here.
“No, thank you.”
“If I can help with anything.”
“Thank you,” Emily said and the held up the scarlet knickers. “Er… could you put these on the bill?”
“Of course.” Adilene gave her the same smile that Emily did when her passengers, for want of a word, misbehaved.