by Alisha Rai
She met his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“If I take these off, this is going to turn from a massage into naked sexy time.”
“I’m sorry, do you think it won’t turn into naked sexy time if you keep a tiny piece of cotton on?”
He pursed his lips. “I have hopes that the cotton might delay the naked sexy time a little while, at least.”
She laughed. He climbed up on the bed and took a hold of the bottle that was lying next to her. She closed her eyes and waited for his touch on her thighs.
Instead, she felt him straddle her hips. “It’s mainly my legs that hurt.” And inside.
“Don’t try to discourage a man who’s willing to give you a full-body massage.” He put his hands on her shoulders.
Well, when he put it that way…
When he started to move his hands, Maira lost all train of thought. His hands were sure and strong, finding all the kinks and hidden aches in her shoulders and back. He didn’t try to restrain his strength; he seemed to know exactly how much pressure she could take.
Though his motions were seductive, there was nothing overtly sexual about the massage. She found herself relaxing into the bed, not starting even when he rubbed the oil into her buttocks. She groaned as the warm liquid went to work in the muscles there, and groaned louder when he worked down her body to her legs, paying special attention to her inner thighs.
She was floating in a dream world of mushy muscles when he nudged her to turn over. Mindlessly, she did, her eyes still closed. He started with her feet this time, working up. Then her stomach, and then her arms, even taking care to slick and rub her hands and fingers.
He released her hands and let them lay face up on the bed. Then, his hands smoothed over her breasts, rubbing her nipples, which were slightly abraded from his attentions during the past nights. It tingled a little. It tingled more when he blew a soft gust of air on the tips.
Oh, this was definitely sexual now. She opened her eyes to find him watching his fingers with an adorably intent expression in his eyes as he rubbed the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He glanced up, smiled and reached down to trail a slick hand over her stomach. “I love how soft your belly is.”
“It could use a couple of sit-ups.”
“Don’t. I like it soft.” He pressed into it, opening and closing his hand over the flesh. “It feels good when it presses against me.”
Without waiting for a response, he picked up the bottle and poured a generous amount on her belly.
Her muscles contracted at the cool sensation on her skin. He capped and tossed the bottle back on the bed and went to town working the oil in, massaging in wide circles on her stomach and breasts, stroking down to her thighs in firm, strong pulls. He completely bypassed the rapidly dampening area between her legs.
Her whole body was cool and tingling, while her pussy was getting hot. She shifted her legs, opening them in a gesture he couldn’t possibly misconstrue.
Smart man that he was, he didn’t, his hands slowly smoothing up her legs, pushing them even wider. He reached her groin and his thumbs dipped between to rest on the entrance of her body.
He used those thumbs to open her and then leaned in, his eyes closed as if he were about to savor something delicious. He’d worn the same expression two nights ago when he’d gone down on her. Having a man so close to her, well, there, should have made her feel shy or nervous.
But he looked like he enjoyed it so very much. Plus, when she’d taken him in her mouth, it hadn’t just been for him; she’d gotten pleasure out of it too. Why wouldn’t he feel the same way?
The first, barely there touch of his tongue made it clear that this was not going to be the ferocious devouring he’d done two nights ago, though. No…this was almost soothing, if such a thing could be said to apply. He gathered her own moisture, lapped at her inflamed tissues, making shallow forays, coming back out just to touch the tip of his tongue to her clit.
It was so soothing, the lust snuck up on her. She went from relaxed to wanting him, needing his body and weight on top of her.
He must have felt her restlessness in the increased tension of her body. With one last swipe, he rose up on his knees, and slid two long fingers inside of her.
It was perfect. She gasped and arched up. The remnants of the oil that had been on his hands alternately calmed and brought her tissues tingling to life. She grabbed his forearm, felt the muscles flex as he stroked the walls of her vagina with shallow, ready strokes. When he went a little deeper, she tipped her head back with a breathy moan. “Sash…more. Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt—”
“You won’t. I feel great. Better than great.” She tugged at his arm. “Please.”
“You don’t have to beg.” He pulled back and slid his boxers off. Before she could bring him over her, he slipped his finger inside of her again. A few strokes, and he withdrew. They both watched, breathless, as he stroked his wet fingers over his naked cock. Her moisture created a trail over the taut, straining flesh. He glanced up at her from beneath his lashes, looking big and sexy and mouthwateringly delicious. “I can’t wait to fuck you without a condom.”
Oh man. Maira licked her lips. “I…I’m on birth control.”
His hand froze on his erection. “I have a physical every year. And you know I haven’t been with anyone in longer than that.”
The question was implicit in his words. She’d thought maybe they would wait for this next step. That’s why she’d bought the condoms, even though she was on the pill.
But then again…what the hell was she waiting for? Certain to the very core, she gave him a slight nod.
Had she been a little less turned on, she might have smiled at the elation in his expression. Instead, all she could do was sigh when his body flowed over hers. He captured her face in his palms and gently thrust with his hips.
The feel of his naked cock sliding inexorably inside of her was so amazing she couldn’t look away from his gaze. When he was fully inside, he stopped, closed his eyes, and then opened them again. They were shiny.
Her vision blurred. He gently caught her tear on her cheek and gave her a heartbreaking smile. “Amazing.”
“Yes.” She shifted, but he shook his head and pinned her to the bed with his hips.
“Wait,” he murmured. “Give it a second.”
He didn’t just give it a second though. A minute ticked by. Then another. And another. She didn’t know how long they lay like that; she wasn’t sure how he managed to keep himself from moving.
As much as she’d loved their fast rides to completion, this…this was sacred. Everything around her was magnified, the only sounds in the room their breathing and the low hum of her air conditioning. They didn’t break their eye contact. Every now and then, their lips met. Their heartbeats started beating in sync. She could hear it, she realized, not just in their chests, but she could feel down below, where they were joined together.
He shifted slightly, his cock dragging against her flesh. Instinctually, her body responded, clenching around him. Sasha grimaced, beads of sweat dampening his brow. Moving just the tiniest bit, he lowered his head and nuzzled at her neck. “Come for me,” he whispered. “Just like this.” He opened his mouth over the spot he knew she loved and sucked ever so lightly.
The small suction set off a chain reaction in her body, and she rode out an orgasm that was more intense than any other he’d given her. As her body relaxed, she realized that he was locked in his own pleasure. It was a new kind of intimacy to watch him, stroking his hot, damp shoulders, as he silently came, lines of strain crossing his face. To feel his body ejaculating in hers, to catch every iota of drowsy lethargy that softened his face when it was over…it was all so magical.
His heavy weight rested on hers, but she was certainly strong enough to take him. He made a token effort to move, but she shushed him back into place. She kissed his cheek where his head lay next to hers on the pillow. He turned his head and smiled. “I
love you, you know.”
She stroked a curl off his forehead. “I love you too.”
The moment was so lovely she thought, perhaps, she should try to explain all of the things she did love about him. Maybe tell him how and why her love had grown, or explain how she felt when he drew her close or made love to her or even looked at her.
Though she didn’t say anything, he beamed as if she had and kissed her tenderly. As his lips moved against hers, Maira realized that sometimes, there simply were no words. And sometimes…they just weren’t that necessary.
About the Author
Alisha Rai has been enthralled with romance novels since she smuggled her first tattered Harlequin home from the library at the age of thirteen. There is nothing she loves more than penning sexy, emotional contemporaries and paranormals with larger-than-life heroes and smart, capable heroines.
After a lifetime spent bouncing around the States, she is content to call sunny South Florida home for now. When she’s not reading or working, Alisha loves to hang out with her close-knit family. She happily lives in a chaotic house filled with clutter, laughter, good food, boisterous kids and very loud relatives.
Alisha loves to hear from her readers! You can send her an e-mail at [email protected] or visit her on the web at www.alisharai.com.
Look for these titles by Alisha Rai
Now Available:
Glutton for Pleasure
Cabin Fever
Veiled Desire
Look, but don’t touch…
Veiled Desire
© 2010 Alisha Rai
Leyla Karimi can’t keep her eyes off the hunky guy living in the house behind her. How could any woman resist ogling Dr. Mason Barrett, especially when he makes it so easy by parading around in his skin and skivvies?
If it was only their age difference, she would have made a move a long time ago. Except Mason is more than a neighbor. He’s her baby brother’s oldest friend. It’s not like they can have a casual fling and walk away in the morning.
Mason’s been doing a little lusting—okay a lot—for quite some time. When he catches Leyla peeking, it’s a sure sign she could finally be ready to heat up his nights with loving. One taste of her lips, though, and he doesn’t want a “little” of anything. He wants it all.
Unwilling to jeopardize a lifetime of friendship for a one-night stand, Leyla is reluctant to throw caution to the wind. When he’s kissing her senseless, though, it’s hard to remember all the reasons why she should hold back…
Warning: Contains a hot hero who doesn’t mind baring it all in the name of love, a heroine who doesn’t settle for less, a sweet romance, steamy sex in a car and more good lovin’ in bed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Veiled Desire:
As Leyla chewed her last bite, savoring the taste of strawberry, cream cheese and cinnamon, she glanced up to find Mason’s gaze on her mouth, his eyes just a bit unfocused. He looked hungry. And since his plate was clean, she figured it wasn’t for food.
Her heart rate accelerated. Though she was careful with her love life, she’d received her fair share of admiring looks over the years. She knew what male interest looked like. But…Mason?
Well, why not? Hadn’t she spent months wrestling with her attraction and feelings for him? Why wouldn’t that desire be reciprocated?
Baby.
Sweetheart.
This is a nice thing to wake up to…
“Why don’t you call me Lee-Lee anymore?” she blurted out. Sasha had tagged her with the nickname in childhood. Though her brother had grown out of it, Mason had continued to use it affectionately. But now that she considered it, he had switched to only calling her by her given name for months.
He didn’t seem at all startled by her pulling the topic out of thin air. “Because it’s a child’s name. Neither of us are children, are we?”
She was a bit too rattled to answer. Her heart pounding, she swallowed the lump in her throat and deliberately set her fork to the side. Leyla dipped her finger in the remaining syrup on her plate. His eyes flicked down to follow the lazy figure eight she made and followed her finger back up to her mouth, where she enclosed it and…sucked.
His eyes flared, and he bit his lower lip. Hard.
Oh my. Well, this was very interesting.
Leyla had never considered herself a wilting flower, so as much as she wanted to swoon a little, she stiffened her spine at the obvious signs of desire she was suddenly noting all over him. Dilated eyes, chest rising and falling. Even his nipples were hard.
Want to taste. Then maybe he would reciprocate.
Her head was spinning from the onslaught of the sudden epiphany. Did he just want her for sex? Because that would never work. She wasn’t set up to be a fuck buddy. But if he wanted more, did she? What about Sasha? How would her brother react?
Her natural humor kicked in, and she tried to fight the sudden urge to laugh at herself. Sasha had always been the impulsive Karimi, but here she was, ready to go nuts on the basis of a couple of hot looks. Time to slow down and really think about this. He hadn’t given her that much encouragement, if she looked at it objectively.
To distract herself, she picked up her plate and stood. “You done?” Without waiting for anything more than his nod, she picked up his empty plate as well and carried them both to the sink. A small pile of dishes had already been gathered there.
As she grabbed the sponge and drizzled some soap on it, she heard the scrape of his chair behind her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Seriously, leave it.”
Trying to diffuse some of her tension, she forced a smile into her voice and made a tsking noise. “Look at all these dirty dishes. You and I both know you’ll let these gather until you don’t have any other choice. I still have a few minutes, and I’ll just—”
Without warning, hard hands closed over her hips, and she dropped the sponge. He swiveled her around. Reaching behind her, he wrenched the water off. “Goddamn it, Leyla. Stop treating me like a kid.”
She blinked up at him, stunned at both the anger on his face and the hard tone of his voice. “I’m not.”
“You are. I’m not your son, and I’m not your brother. I can do my own fucking dishes.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t need to swear at me.”
He sneered. “Are you going to chastise me for my language now?”
“Someone needs to. You idiot. I certainly don’t think I’m your mother.”
“Then stop acting like it. You don’t have to clean up after me. You certainly don’t need to do my fu—”
She slapped her hands against his chest. “That’s a nasty swear, Mason. Say it again, and I will make you sorry. I was doing the dishes because you cooked, you ass.”
He stilled. “Do you mind if I use it and I’m not swearing at you?”
“What?”
“Fuck.”
The short, graphic word looked erotic on his full lips. She caught her breath.
“Do you object to the word or the context?”
“The-the context.”
His lips quirked. “I’ll keep that in mind. I apologize. I’m sorry if I overreacted.”
“I’m not your sister,” she blurted out.
“I know that. I’ve known that for a while. The question is, do you know it?”
“Yes.” She realized at that moment that her slightly damp hands were flat against his chest.
His naked, hard, hot chest.
Leyla had never touched him so intimately. Hugs, pecks on the cheek, pats on the back; that was it. The way she’d been raised, males and females who were platonic friends didn’t touch each other inappropriately. Mason knew and respected that.
She couldn’t look at his face. Instead, she studied her hands, so small against the wide expanse of his chest. Her one hand curved over his developed pec. She only had to move just a smidgeon to scrape the nail of her pinky over his nipple.
Then he
was growling, a low rumbling noise, using his tight grip on her hips to pull her closer and crowd her against the counter. He shoved one hand into her hair, tilted her head and lowered his lips to hers.
All she could think was that she no longer needed to wonder if he desired her. He didn’t bother with an exploratory foray or gentle teasing. He kissed her as if they’d been kissing for years, as if he had an absolute right to her lips and her mouth. It was hot and carnal, his mouth open on hers, his tongue stroking against hers and inside. When she twined her arms around his neck and sank into him, he made a rough noise and captured the zipper on her hoodie. One quick tug had it undone, and then it was like her shirt just magically undid itself of its buttons for him as well. He pushed it to the side with rough impatience until her breast filled his hand.
When he pinched her nipple, Leyla figured she was pretty much done for. Her breasts were sensitive, but Mason touched her with just the perfect amount of pressure. She arched her back and whimpered into his mouth. God, she wanted more.
He ripped his mouth away and studied her with hot eyes. She knew what she would see if she glanced down at herself right then. Tousled hair, unbuttoned top, her right breast plumped up by his hand, her nipple long and tight. She didn’t want to look down at herself. The reality would force her brain back into action. There was a certain comfort and simplicity in letting one’s vagina do the talking. “Mason, please…”
Slashes of red crested Mason’s high cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful.” He dipped his head, pulling her nipple into the wet cavern of his mouth.
If she’d thought that Mason knew how to touch a nipple, that was nothing compared to how well he could suck one. He was a freakin’ maestro of the nipple, suckling hard and fast, teasing her with light flicks of his tongue. She looked down at his blond head against her skin. Instantly, doubts and worries crept into her mind. She shut her eyes and they faded. She didn’t want to think. Just feel.
