Clare Connelly Pairs II
Page 12
“I can’t ignore it,” she said gravely, pulling at him now so that he tumbled on top of her to the sandy floor. “I wish I could.”
“Good,” he growled. “You want me with an honest passion that I could never tire of. Your first lesson is to be unafraid. Your desire is a beautiful thing. Touch me. Taste me. Scream if you wish to.” He moved his mouth to her other breast and clamped his teeth down on her nipple, very quickly, and just hard enough to make her body buck against his in arousal and surprise. “Tell me what pleases you. What you want more of.”
“But …” He was trailing kisses down her stomach, and then pulling her shoes off, and Laurie could hardly think straight. “You know what I like. You saw it the other night.”
“Oh, Laurie. There is so much more to pleasure than that.” He peeled her running pants from her slender legs, and then her underwear. He was impatient now to see her naked form.
Even through the protection of the calico, and with the setting of the sun, the warmth of the day was like fire. Or was that just Laurie? She writhed on the soft floor, her body dancing to a tune she’d never heard, as Afida moved over her. His handsome face came close to hers, his eyes glowing with a challenge she wasn’t sure she understood.
“Do you like this?” His words were tinged with desert and spice, deep and husky. He ran his hand across the entrance to her womanhood and she bucked hard at the foreign contact.
His laugh was gentle. “Good.” He lingered, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh. Laurie’s breath came in fast snatches; she gulped in air as desire began to simmer like a volcano within. She reached for him out of desperation; she was sinking and he was her life raft. Except he wasn’t! He was the tide on which she was marooned, being cast from wave to wave unable to find a safe-haven. She gripped his shoulders, her eyes squeezed shut, as the pleasure became almost unbearable.
He dropped his head lower, so that he could pull her lower lip between his teeth, and then he kissed her properly, plundering his tongue into her mouth as he wanted to do with his whole body.
“Afida,” she moaned loudly into his kiss, her fingernails scoring marks into his smooth flesh.
“You need more,” he said the words against her ear and she nodded frantically, because that was exactly what she needed! More of this and more of him! More of everything.
He entered her painfully slowly, so that when his length finally took possession of her body, she was almost crazy with incantations, imploring him over and over and over again to “Please, please, please!”
He was gentle this time. Unlike the first time they’d come together, when he’d been driven almost mad by his need for his wife – a need that had tipped over into anger and frustration to learn she’d offered him back to his mistress. Now, here in the unspoiled beauty of the dunes of Alija, nothing mattered except atoning for the way in which he’d taken her innocence. He had thought she was, if not his equal, at least experienced enough to understand what their bodies were doing to one another.
This time, he knew that he wanted it to be perfect for her. He watched as she reached the peak of pleasure and then delighted in sending her over the edge. Her face contorted as her body racked with pleasure. When her second wave built to a crescendo, he chased after her, releasing himself into her with a roar that travelled the sandy desert.
He rolled, but kept his wife pinned to his chest, unwilling to break the physical connection. Laurie listened to the thumping of his heart, and she knew then. It was a heart that commanded hers. Though they’d known one another for such a short time, Afida was right. Time alone was not a determinant for love. It was chemistry and it was magic.
And the all-powerful Sheikh Afida Masou-Al was both magic and fantasy, wrapped up in one deliciously sexy package.
10
“It’s so cold now!” She said with a small laugh, wondering if it was just because, after hours of exploring one another in the calico tent, her body was its own again. No hands running over it, no lips sending her nerve endings into space, no passion and arousal stoking her fires to explosion point.
Afida’s strides were long, bringing him swiftly back from the helicopter. In the silver bath of moonlight, it glowed like a raven on the crystalline sand. “Nights out here are.”
He handed her a small dish and then sat down beside her.
“Something you prepared earlier?” She quipped, peeling the lid off so that she could see what was inside. To her chagrin, her stomach let out a loud grumbling noise of appreciation at the hint of food and she smothered it with a laugh. “I haven’t eaten since … I don’t know when.”
He brought his mouth to hers knowingly. “And we have used much energy,” he pointed out sagely.
Her cheeks might have blushed at his comment, once upon a time. But now she simply nodded, a droll expression on her pretty features. After all, they were now more intimately acquainted with one another than anyone had ever been, surely.
Her blood was volcanic lava in her veins. If she didn’t put some space between them, she would beg him to make love to her again. And she didn’t even know if that was possible. How many times had they been together? Their lust was, apparently, insatiable. With no concept of if that was usual or not, she simply had to presume it was. But how did anyone ever get anything done? How were people not rushing back to their lovers or husbands half way through the day to make love? As far as drug addictions went, Laurie could understand sex was the most tempting. Sex with Afida.
Would it be like this with anyone? Her pale eyes clouded as they drifted to his face, and the sharpness of observation she saw in his made her startle. “What is it?” She said hurriedly, looking back at the food self-consciously.
“Ensatha.” Like almost everything he said, it was magical sounding coming from him.
“Ensatha,” she repeated.
“Perfect. Your accent is native-like.”
She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I get languages.”
He scanned her face, unable to understand why he was feeling oddly unsettled despite the excellent afternoon they’d shared. “It is lamb, rice and currants, wrapped in vine leaves. They are a specialty of the province.”
“That sounds a bit like dolmades?”
“Yes. Some of the first Bedouin desert tribes were ancient Greek warriors, displaced from war and seeking a new land. They influenced existing cultures in many ways. Art, architecture, culture.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said, thinking of the history book she’d been reading.
“I will get you some more books on the matter, if it interests you,” he said casually, but Laurie was left wondering how he seemed able to read her mind so effortlessly.
“Thanks.” She looked back at the dish; it contained perhaps ten of the rolled delicacies. “Is your helicopter just kept stocked with food, in case you decide to go somewhere on a whim?” She teased with disbelief.
“Yes.” A simple admission, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Seriously?”
His smile was stunning. In the wilderness, beneath a blanket of pristine silver stars, he was heaven-sent.
“Seriously,” he mocked kindly. “My preferred jet and helicopter are stocked for me every day, in case I need to travel somewhere without notice.”
“So, somewhere in the capital, there’s an aeroplane waiting for you to arrive?”
“Yes.”
“Your preferred jet?” She teased, lifting a brow.
“The palace has seven.”
“Seven? Is that all?”
“You are judging me, I know, for being excessive, but I have scaled back the royal fleet considerably in the last five years.”
“Have you?” She shook her head. “It does seem excessive, but it’s not really my place to say that.”
“Of course it is. In fact, one of the jets is yours.”
“Mine?” She was mid-way to picking up an Ensatha, but she paused. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Any
time you wish to travel, it is at your disposal.”
“And is it kept stocked, like yours?”
His laugh was a soft rumble. “No. But I can have it made that way, if you wish.”
“No.” She flushed. “It’s wasteful.”
“Wasteful?”
“Yes! What happens to all this food if you don’t happen to decide to whim away one day?”
His smile was one of indulgence and amusement. “All of the palace food that is surplus to requirements is donated to a homeless charity in the city. Two vans are loaded up each morning to deliver the food.”
Laurie’s smile was weak. “I had no idea.”
“You wouldn’t. It is a private initiative, not one that needs to be known about widely.”
Her heart turned over, and she remembered something Elon had said about Afida. That he was generous beyond belief. “Do you do many things like this? These secret acts of altruism?”
He waved a hand dismissively through the air. “I do what I am able. The donation of palace leftovers is barely a Kingly gesture.”
Laurie’s soft, weak heart, turned over in her chest. She pinned her eyes to his so that he saw the sincerity of her words. “I think it is a perfect example of a Kingly gesture. And it shows what kind of King you are.”
A muscle flexed in his cheek. She lifted a finger to it, feeling the strength of his stubble beneath her light touch. A night-bird flew over head, letting out a delightful song as it went. It didn’t break the spell that was weaving around them. It added to it. Magic seemed to weave in and out of their bodies, forming an unstoppable web of understanding.
“Eat,” he murmured, lifting a grape leaf roll to her lips and tracing the lower lip with its cool shape.
She parted her lips, just enough to bite an end of the roll. Her eyes clung to his as she chewed it; she was powerless to look away. She tasted the roll with delight. “It’s good.”
“It is a favourite of mine.”
“Then I want to learn to make it.” The words escaped her soul and her lips before her brain could catch them. What was such a statement if not an admission of her love?
“It is not necessary,” he demurred. Has she embarrassed him with her blatant desire to please? Had she crossed some invisible line between a marriage of convenience that included sex, and something far murkier?
“Of course. Not when you have an army of chefs at your disposal.” Her smile covered her hurt, but it was there. She had offered unconsciously, and he had rejected her offer with ease.
“I like to cook,” she lied, trying desperately to pedal back the stupid, weak suggestion.
“I had no idea.”
Neither had Laurie! “It’s a hobby. You know. Stress relief or something.”
He nodded, but was silent. He lifted the roll back to her lips, and she bit another segment. It really was delicious. But maybe that was this place too. The magic and freedom of the untamed wilderness was sparking something in her soul to life, making everything look and feel as though it pulsed with vibrancy.
Her eyes lifted to the sky. A thick blanket of inky darkness was jewel-studded by stars that shone far more brightly than she’d ever seen them.
Never doubt how much I have loved you, and do not ever let yourself be loved less than this. I will live on in your forever, and I will guide your darkest night. In moments of worry, look up, and you’ll see me.
Of course, she didn’t actually believe her mother had taken physical existence in the form of a star, and yet somehow, Laurie just knew she was out there. She reached for another roll and ate it silently. What would her mother have made of this?
It was the first time she’d really thought about it. Would she have been pleased with the marriage? Or desperately disappointed?
You may meet someone, one day, who you decide you love, and want to spend your life with. Make sure he is good enough for you before you take that step. For most people, and I cannot tell you how greatly I hope you are one of them, life is a lengthy journey, filled with many twists and turns. With the right person by your side, such as I have had with your father, it is an adventure that will never, even over a thousand years, feel long enough. Most importantly, it is a ride, and you know my philosophy on those – they must be fun!
Was Laurie having fun? She swallowed the roll and reached for another on autopilot. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she wasn’t aware of how Afida was studying her unashamedly. Make sure he is good enough for you, the letter had urged.
Was Afida ‘good enough’? She had thought him a heartless bastard at one time. Her cheeks flamed when she recalled the attack on Afida she’d launched at Elon, his closest friend. She’d expressed feelings that she was far from recognising now. What did that mean?
His touch was gentle on her cheek. “You’re crying.”
She blinked in genuine surprise. “Am I?” Her green eyes thudded to his, landing with a soft pause at the same time her heart rolled in her chest.
He made a soft noise of assent.
“I didn’t realise.”
“Why?” He traced another tear with his finger, catching it as it threatened to roll off her chin.
She shook her head from side to side and laughed; a small, tremulous sound in the vastness of the desert. “I don’t know. I didn’t realise I was.”
“You are unhappy.”
“No!” She shook her head quickly as her heart thumped faster. “I was just thinking about my mother, that’s all.”
“Marjorie.”
“Yes.” Her smile was dismissive. “It’s silly.”
“What is?”
Laurie focussed on a shape in the distance; the outline of a craggy tree visible as a ghoulish silhouette against the blackened sky. “My mother left me a note. She knew she was dying, and she wanted me to have some words, I guess, in my future.” Her expression flashed with discomfort. “She would have hated this marriage.” Her laugh was shy. “She would have been furious with me. Even more so with you.”
The words he should have said were right there. He needed to release her. Because Marjorie would have been right to despise his heavy-handed management of the situation. Though his intentions had been honourable, the pain he’d wrought in Laurena’s life did not justify his success. He had used her as a pawn, and he’d had very little concern for how she might be affected by the marriage.
She had not mattered to him.
Yes, even to save her beloved David, Marjorie would not have approved of Afida’s actions.
He should have let her go, and yet … for almost the first time in his life, Afida wanted to be selfish. What was right and what was good no longer mattered if he couldn’t enjoy the pleasure of being with his wife.
* * *
Step.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Laurie pushed her legs harder, in time with her breathing.
But oh, it was hot. Searing enough to cook a crab on the ground. Even the air in her lungs felt like it was burning to breathe, and still she ran.
The smile on her face was reflective.
It had been a month since they’d flown off into the sunset, and found their own form of happy ending.
Sex.
Great, soul-destroying, pleasure-redefining sex. The kind of sex that could barely be dreamed about, because it was too good to be imagined.
Her body ached with longing for Afida. From the moment the sun crept over the distant dunes and breathed dawn into the luxurious suite of rooms they now shared, and reality began to separate them. They were lovers by night, and polite, professional strangers by day.
Married strangers.
The term made her lips lift.
But how else was she to behave? She loved him. She loved everything about him. Everything she’d originally thought had been wrong. He was kind. He was smart. He was thoughtful and decent. He’d done everything he could to support her in adjusting to this new life.
Yes, he was a good man.
<
br /> She didn’t need to look further than the relaxed happiness on David’s face to know that.
Her father.
Her smile broadened. He had stayed on in Aktaria for far longer than he’d planned. But the speed of life at the palace had agreed with him. For the first time since Marjorie had passed away, David was truly living again. Laurie hadn’t seen him drink. He was eating well, and he’d taken to exercising in the gym and the pool, and his skin had taken on a golden tan.
Step, step, step, step. She was farther from the palace than she’d ever been.
She wasn’t consciously heading for the lodgings in the distance, and yet, they’d fascinated her from day one. By the time she’d come within reach of the first building, she was so hot she thought she might pass out. She paused outside, her hands on her knees as she crumpled forward from the waist and concentrated on her own breathing. In and out, slowly, until the sense of nausea passed.
“You cannot be serious.”
Afida’s voice was well known to her now. It was as if it had been carved from the music of her soul. She could have picked him in any crowd in the world. She softened her breathing instinctively, as the undercurrent of shock unsettled her.
“Would I make it up, Fida?”
May.
Laurie’s nausea returned. The prickly question of his mistress had not come up again. Stupidly, Laurie had simply believed Afida, when he’d promised it was over. Had he even said it was? She thought back to that day she’d confronted him, when she’d been so terribly upset to have found David and May talking in the quince grove, and realised she couldn’t remember exactly what Afida had said. Certainly she’d been left with the impression that May was no longer a part of his life; that he no longer wanted his mistress.
“I do not know what you are capable of, May.”
“Nonsense. You know me better than anyone. You loved me a long time.”
Laurie’s body felt cold, except for her ears which were burning with volcanic heat.
“You cannot be pregnant.”
Laurie’s gasp was silent; her face showed anguish to the empty garden.