“Perfect,” he breathed as one hand closed over one breast and his mouth settled on the other.
She gave a small cry as his tongue teased her tight nipple. Sensation shot through her, zipping to her toes, then returning to settle in that place between her thighs. His fingers mirrored his moist touch, teasing her, making her arch toward him, her head falling back, her mouth parted as she gasped for air. When he drew her into his mouth and sucked deeply, she knew she was going to die.
Rafe’s other hand moved up and down her back. He must have done something because her dress suddenly fell to the floor. She wore only bikini panties. Even as he continued to pleasure her breasts, he moved his hand lower, over her hips, down to her rear. He cupped the curves there, digging his fingers into her flesh, drawing her against him.
She wanted this. She wanted more.
He raised his head and kissed her mouth. His fingers tugged her panties, drawing them down. She tried not to notice that she was about to be naked, while he was still fully dressed. Then when it was impossible not to notice, she tried not to mind.
Rafe kicked off his sandals and pulled off his shirt. Zara stood there, in front of him. Naked. Just plain naked. She was about to change her mind about the whole sex thing, when he led her to the bed and motioned for her to settle onto the mattress.
It was certainly farther than she’d ever gone before, she thought, hoping humor would ease her growing nervousness. What if she did it wrong? What if he didn’t like being with her? What if—
“Stop thinking,” he instructed. “I can hear your brain churning from here. Relax. Just relax.”
He followed his instructions with a slow, deep kiss that left her breathless. They danced together, their tongues circling, stroking. Some of her tension eased.
He moved his hand to her breasts, touching one and then the other. The combination of kissing and breast touching was heady stuff. When his hand moved lower, she never thought to complain.
“Has any man touched you here in a way you liked?” he asked, trailing his fingers lower down her stomach.
“No.”
Rafe kissed her earlobe, then bit gently. “I need you to tell me what feels good,” he whispered.
“But how will I know?”
He chuckled. “You’ll know.” She doubted that very much. She was the one lacking experience. Why on earth would he expect her to give decent instructions? This was never going to work.
He moved lower still. As he slipped his fingers between her thighs, her legs parted. She didn’t remember telling them to do that, but they did. She was about to push them back together when she felt something delicious and amazing.
He stroked her so gently, she thought, barely able to stay conscious and aware of what was happening. It was a lazy exploration, as if they had all the time in the world. She could tell she was already slick by the way his fingers moved easily. He touched all of her—that place where he would enter her later, although it still sounded awkward to her, the protective folds, the damp curls. He pressed in a little, as if searching for something. As if—
She gasped as a bolt of lightning exploded inside of her.
“I would say that’s it,” he murmured and shifted so he was kissing her again.
It? What it?
Zara struggled to figure out what was going on, but it was all too amazing. The more he moved his fingers against her, the more the lightning explosions continued. Her legs fell open more. She wanted to beg him to never stop. She wanted to offer herself as his slave forever. She wished she had state secrets to spill. Anything to keep him touching her.
She knew enough about biology to realize there were nerve endings down there all bundled together with the seemingly sole purpose of bringing her pleasure. She’d just always assumed that part of her body was broken. What a thrill to find out it was alive and functioning extremely well.
How perfectly he touched her. Over and around. Moving evenly, never pressing too hard. His ministrations quickened slightly and she felt herself tensing.
When he broke the kiss to move to her breasts, she caught her breath in anticipation. His touch there had been amazing before, but in combination, it would be exquisite. She had a brief thought that he’d asked about instructions. No way would she be able to speak. Not when he was about to—
She screamed.
His lips came down on her tight nipple, his tongue teased her flesh, then he sucked. It was too much. Deep in her body tension spiraled to the point where she knew she couldn’t stand it anymore. Then heat filled her and a hundred thousand tiny convulsions swept through her. She felt transfixed and transformed. She felt perfect and whole. She lost herself in the wonder of her body’s ability to experience pleasure.
Rafe’s fingers slowed, then moved to her thigh. He lightly kissed her lips. She forced herself to open her eyes and gaze at him. He had a very self-satisfied expression on his face.
“Wow,” she said.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So that was what it was like.”
“Uh-huh. Although some women take a lot longer.”
“That was quick?”
He grinned. “About three minutes. Definitely quick.”
She had a feeling he didn’t think that was a bad thing. “I had a lot of sex to make up for.”
“Apparently. Ready for round two?”
She nodded.
He hesitated. “We don’t have to go all the way. You could still stay a virgin.”
She shoved him toward the edge of the bed. Or at least she tried to—the man didn’t budge. “I don’t want to be a virgin anymore. I told you. It’s complicated at my age. Come on, Rafe. You can’t refuse me now.”
“Okay. Just checking.”
Just being one of the good guys, she thought, as he sat up and unfastened his trousers. He slipped them and his briefs off before stretching out next to her.
She knew it was rude to stare, but she hadn’t seen an actual, well, it, before. She’d touched a couple, but only in the dark.
“You’d see better if you sat up,” he said, as if he could read her mind.
She was too curious to be embarrassed. Instead she took his advice and shifted into a sitting position.
Blond hair lightly covered his chest. It thickened at his belly, forming a line that bisected his rippled abdomen. She glanced at the impressive muscles there and made a mental note to start doing sit-ups.
Two scars, one more round than the other, stood out on his skin. She started to ask how he’d been hurt, but figured this wasn’t the best time. Then her gaze moved lower to the darker blond hair at the base of his erection.
“I don’t have a frame of reference,” she said. “Is it big?”
“Huge.”
“I’d like to touch you.”
“Feel free.”
She put her hand on him. He was warm and dry, with velvet-soft skin stretched over pulsing steel.
“Does being so hard hurt?”
“No.”
She tilted her head to see between his legs. He parted for her. She moved down to stroke him lightly. From there, she touched his thighs. He had long legs and well-shaped feet. What looked like a scar from a knife cut through his left thigh. All in all, he was a darned impressive package.
“When does the condom go on?” she asked.
“Anytime.”
She reached over him and opened the box, then handed him a square package. He opened the plastic and unrolled the protection.
“Did you have to practice that when you were younger? I mean you seem pretty good at it.”
He raised himself into a sitting position and urged her to lie down. “It’s not a difficult skill to master.”
Suddenly she found herself on her back, gazing up at him. Her nerves returned. “I’ve liked everything we’ve done so far. Am I going to like this?”
“I’ll do my best.”
He bent down to kiss her. Before their lips touched, she grabbed his arms. “I should pr
obably tell you that I asked my doctor a few years ago, and she said that there’s no, um, physical proof of me being a virgin.”
“Thanks for letting me know. That should make it less painful.”
She glanced down at his maleness. It did look kinda big to be slipping inside of her easily.
“Don’t think about it,” he told her, then leaned low and kissed her. His hands moved between her legs.
Now that she knew what to expect, she relaxed into the pleasure that spilled from his fingers. He found that one spot again, but after teasing it for a bit, he moved and slipped a finger inside of her. This was a completely different sensation. He pushed in deeply, then stroked the inside of her.
Her body instantly contracted around him. She gasped. It had been like before, only less intense. Sort of a minisurrender. He thrust into her again, faster this time. She felt another contraction.
Rafe swore under his breath, and she stiffened.
“I’m sorry. What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing.” He kissed her. “You’re doing everything right. It’s just you’re so hot and wet and I can’t wait to be inside of you. I can already feel you climaxing. It’s your first time and I’m supposed to show a little control. I don’t know if I can.”
She liked the idea of him being overwhelmed by passion. “Just do the best you can,” she said soothingly.
“Gee, thanks.”
He moved over her, kneeling between her thighs. He parted her with his fingers, and she felt something thick pushing inside of her. It felt nothing like his finger. Her body stretched in a way that made her uncomfortable—more and deeper until he was buried inside of her.
It was done.
He loomed over her, supporting his weight on his arms. She gazed up at him and felt her heart contract. She’d waited a long time for this moment, and even though the journey had felt endless, she couldn’t complain about the destination. This was exactly where she wanted to be.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
He withdrew and moved back inside. She tilted her hips to help. Again and again he slipped into her, pulling out only to ease into her again. In time she didn’t feel quite so stretched. The gentle rhythm grew almost pleasant. Then Rafe reached between them and touched that bundle of nerves buried just below the skin. He rubbed the exact spot in exactly the right way. She felt herself tensing.
It was just as amazing and yet it was different. Better. She liked the sensation of him filling her. She grabbed his hips to pull him closer. He was forced to stop touching her, but she didn’t care. She needed more of what he had. More of him.
He lowered himself onto her and kissed her. Their tongues tangled, mimicking the act of love. Pressure build inside of her. More, she thought frantically. More and more and more.
Then she lost herself in a whirlwind of release. She pulsed and cried out and gasped and held on to him as her body spent itself. When she was nearing the end of her journey, she felt him stiffen and call out her name.
Zara opened her eyes to find Rafe looking down at her. She watched him climax in a moment so intimate she found she couldn’t breathe. They held each other close as the last shudders rippled through their bodies.
At that moment she knew she’d lost something more important than her virginity. She’d also lost her heart.
Rafe broke his second fundamental rule when he stayed with Zara into the night. They slept entwined, or at least she slept. He simply held her and stared into the darkness. Of course, when compared with actually deflowering a virginal client who happened to be the long-lost daughter of a ruling monarch, staying in said virgin’s bed for the night didn’t seem like such a big deal.
She breathed deeply as she slept, making occasional soft noises and cuddling next to him. He liked the feel of her bare skin against his, the scent of her and their lovemaking lingering. When he closed his eyes, he could see them touching each other and remembered what it had felt like to enter her. She’d been so willing, so responsive, so giving.
He tried to tell himself that the sex had been better than average and to let it go. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of having experienced something significant. He wanted to think it was because she’d been a virgin. He’d never been anyone’s first time before, and at his age it wasn’t supposed to be an issue. However, he sensed his unease was more than just the fact that Zara had never been with a man before. It had something to do with her having touched his heart along with his body.
As soon as the thought appeared, he dismissed it. Sex, he reminded himself. It had just been about sex. Zara turned him on. He’d resisted and then he’d given in. The situation wasn’t any more significant than that. Maybe they’d do it again, maybe they wouldn’t—no big deal.
Except he found himself imagining more than just another session of lovemaking. He found himself wondering what it would be like if she was a part of his life longer than—
Rafe disentangled himself from Zara and slipped out of bed. He walked to the open French doors and stood naked in the moonlight. He wasn’t going to go there, he told himself. No fantasies about putting down roots and giving away his heart. He knew better. Love didn’t exist, except in the most superficial way possible. As soon as it all got tough, people walked away.
He turned and glanced at Zara, still sleeping. He could see the curve of her shoulder and one bare breast. His body stirred with desire. More frightening, something deep inside stirred, as well. As if he wanted more than just sex. As if she’d come to matter.
He pushed the thought away. No one mattered, he reminded himself. Not now, not ever. He didn’t do forever or relationships of any kind. He went it alone because that was how he liked it. How many times did he have to learn the lesson that the only person he could depend on was himself?
Zara nibbled on the mango slice. She felt deliciously wicked, eating breakfast in only her robe. Underneath she wore nothing at all.
“Why are you smiling?” Rafe asked from his place across the small table.
He’d already showered and dressed, pulling on cotton trousers and a loose shirt. He looked dangerous and handsome, and she still couldn’t believe what they’d done the previous evening.
“I’m having a good morning,” she said contentedly. “Here we are, on a beautiful island, listening to the sound of the surf. We don’t have a care in the world.”
“You aren’t the one about to lose your head.”
She dismissed his complaint. “The king will never find out. I certainly don’t plan to tell him, so unless you put it in your daily report, he won’t ever know.”
Rafe drank his coffee. “I don’t write a daily report.”
“I know, but you check in with someone in Bahania. Just don’t mention doing the wild thing.”
He didn’t return her smile. Instead he studied her. “Zara, about last night—are you okay?”
She knew what he was asking. She’d waited a long time to finally rid herself of her virginity. Was she having second thoughts?
“I’m fine,” she said honestly, wishing there was a way to let him know that she was so much more than fine—she was floating with happiness.
Her reaction wasn’t just because she finally figured out what all the fuss was about—it was because being with Rafe felt so right. At their moment of completion, she’d realized that she’d fallen in love with him. Instead of terrifying her, the information had been freeing. All her life she’d wondered if there was someone for her, someone special she could love with all her being. While she’d been engaged to Jon, she’d cared about him and had even loved him, but there hadn’t been such a sense of connection.
She felt that she and Rafe would be better together than they were apart. She liked who she was with him and how she felt about herself. She liked that they got along and made each other laugh. There wasn’t any fear or regret. Only a strong sense of the rightness of it all.
“Your father keeps asking when you’re returning to Bahania,”
he said. “I figure I can only hold him off for another week.”
She sighed. “So you’re saying I have to grow up and start thinking about my life?”
“Something like that.”
She didn’t want to think about real life or being apart from Rafe. Because, regardless of whether she went back to the states or stayed in Bahania, he would be returning to the City of Thieves.
“I have a job waiting for me,” she said. “At the end of the summer, they’re expecting me to show up and teach my classes.”
“You have a father here who wants to get to know you,” he reminded her. “I thought you’d come all this way to find your family.”
“I have.”
“Being a princess isn’t just about wearing a tiara. The position comes with responsibilities. Bahania is a growing country, but it’s not perfect. There are still a lot of issues for women. Someone with your background could make a difference.”
She looked at him. “You think I should stay.”
“I think it’s a lot to walk away from. Besides, your regular life is going to be lost to you, either way. You can’t go back to being regular Zara Paxton.”
She knew he was right. “The thing is, I kind of liked being regular Zara Paxton.”
“I liked her, too.”
His dark eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. She wished there was a way to know the right thing to do. She wasn’t comfortable with staying, but leaving felt like running away.
“I don’t have to decide right now,” she said. “I have at least another week.” Suddenly her skin felt shivery and hot. “So…what do you want to do for the rest of the day?”
He growled low in his throat. “Don’t go there, Zara. Last night was a one-time event.”
That was a news flash she hadn’t been expecting. “Why? Oh. I know. I read somewhere that men need time to recover before they can make love again, right? So how long do you need?”
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 100
