Seduced by the Sultan. Sharon Kendrick

and security she’d never really had.

      But that was a waste of time and energy.

      ‘Would you like me to tell you how much I missed you?’ she said eagerly.

      ‘You may tell me whatever you please, my beauty—just as long as you let me reacquaint myself with these magnificent breasts of yours,’ he said, disposing of the now tattered brassiere with a careless flick of his fingers. ‘For I have been dreaming about licking them like this.’

      Catrin stifled a moan. ‘So have I.’

      ‘Shall I play with your pretty nipples?’ he continued. ‘Shall I lick them and suck them and make you wet in lots of different places?’

      ‘Oh, yes, please,’ she breathed.

      ‘And is there anything else I should do?’ His hand began to move down over the concave dip of her torso. She felt the exploratory caress of his palm as it skated over her belly, a forefinger briefly circling the faint dip of her navel before it continued its journey. ‘Anything else I can tempt you with?’

      ‘Can’t you...guess?’ she whispered.

      ‘I can try. I think you might want me to slide down these rather schoolmistressy panties you’re wearing...’

      ‘You don’t like them?’

      ‘They are a fantasy I didn’t realise I had until now. I just want to get the damned things off.’

      His finger hooked inside the garment to give action to his words, but then it stilled. Lifting her head to see why, Catrin looked into his face and she saw something in his eyes she didn’t recognise. Something which made her screw her face up in confusion because...was it sadness she read there?

      ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Murat—is something wrong?’

      But the sadness—if that was what it had been—had now been replaced by the much more familiar smoulder of lust.

      ‘No, nothing is wrong,’ he growled as he slid the panties down over her knees and started to kiss her.

      Catrin shuddered out a sigh as he brought her closer to him, because this was a dance she knew so well that it had become almost second nature to her. Her sexual experience before she’d met Murat had been zero, but the Sultan had changed all that. He had taught her so much. To trust her body and to love it. And that sex was the most sublime of all pleasures and she should never feel guilty about enjoying it.

      A whole month of being without him had left her feeling desperate to touch him like this. She marvelled at the seamless slotting of their bodies. She cried out with joy as he entered her.

      ‘Oh, Cat,’ he murmured as he paused to allow her body to accommodate him.

      ‘You feel so...good.’

      ‘And so do you,’ came his unsteady response. ‘Sweet storm of the desert—so do you!’

      Murat felt his mouth grow dry as he concentrated on each exquisite thrust. His hands cupped the silken globes of her buttocks as he moved deeper inside her. He thought that she felt like velvet. Hot, smooth velvet. He wanted this feeling to last. He wanted to stay trapped inside her and to spend the rest of the night kissing her soft, sweet lips. But nothing lasted. He knew that. And the sudden bitterness of what lay ahead made him drive into her more deeply still.

      Her body began to arch and to quiver as the first spasm of orgasm claimed her and he took just long enough to watch the flush which bloomed over her breasts, before he too went under. Crying out in his native tongue, his seed seeming to burst from him in a fierce explosion of pleasure.

      Time slowed and a torpor began to steal over him. He lifted a lazy hand to tangle his fingers in her hair but he could see a sudden wariness on her face as she gazed at him. He wanted to sleep but it seemed she was not keen to let him.

      ‘So what brought you back so early?’ she questioned, leaning over him so that her long hair tickled his chest.

      ‘I juggled my schedule a little.’ He yawned. ‘There’s someone I need to see. In fact, we’re having dinner with him tonight.’

      ‘But—’ she frowned ‘—I’ve made gazpacho—and some lemon soufflé.’

      He laughed. ‘Now you sound like a housewife.’

      There was a pause. ‘I thought you liked me to play housewife.’

      ‘Well, sometimes I do.’ And sometimes I don’t.

      ‘And you always reserve your first evening back for just the two of us.’

      ‘I know I do.’ He failed to stifle a second yawn. ‘And I’m sorry, Cat—but this meeting can’t be postponed.’

      ‘Right.’

      Murat registered the disappointment in her voice even though she was doing her best to disguise it. Yet surely she must realise that she had been given more access to him than any other woman he’d ever known. Maybe now might be a good time to remind her. But the sudden darkness which was clouding her eyes made him want to placate her instead, so he stroked his hand down over her hip. ‘But you will enjoy meeting Niccolo. He’s flying to New York in the morning and so it made sense to meet him here in London.’

      Her face relaxed a little. ‘Not the infamous Niccolo Da Conti who I’ve never been allowed to meet before? One of your Three Musketeer friends?’

      ‘Yes, that’s him,’ said Murat. ‘And it’s not a case of you not being allowed to meet him—it’s just that our paths don’t often cross in London, which is why I usually meet up with him in Qurhah.’

      ‘And I’m never allowed to set foot in Qurhah, am I?’

      ‘Unfortunately, no.’ With a soft growl he extended his hand and pulled her closer and as soon as he felt the softness of her body, he wanted her again. ‘But I don’t want to talk about all the factors which keep us apart. In fact, I don’t want to talk about anything. I haven’t seen you for almost a month and there’s only one thing on my mind. So lean over and kiss me, Cat.’

      She did, of course. Because how could any woman resist a man as gorgeous as Murat the Magnificent? Against the whiteness of the bedding, his body gleamed like burnished gold. He was like a god, she thought as she lowered her head to brush her lips over his. A dark golden god, lying next to her.

      But, out of nowhere, that scary feeling came back again. The one which made her feel as if she were falling off the edge of a cliff in slow motion. The one which gave her more pain than pleasure. The one which made her silently want to scream her denial. She wasn’t in love with him. She didn’t want to be. There was nothing to be gained from loving him.

      More of her mother’s words came filtering back and she didn’t seem able to silence them.

      Has he spoken to you about the future, Catrin? Has he?

      Catrin moved restlessly. No, he most certainly had not. Their relationship contained plenty of fancy bows—but no strings. The future had been discussed and dismissed at the very beginning. Put away in a drawer which had been slammed shut and locked away.

      ‘Stop frowning like that,’ he murmured. ‘And feel this instead.’

      His boast was unashamedly sexual as he guided her hand between his legs and her cheeks grew hot as she met the mocking look in his eyes. Her fingers curled around his silken hardness as he pulled her mouth down towards his, and suddenly there was nothing in her mind but sensation.

      She wondered if she was a weak person, because all her doubts flew straight out of her mind as soon as Murat began to kiss her. Yet this, more than anything else, felt right and, oh, so familiar.

      Her thoughts splintered as she felt his fingers begin to explore her flesh, because hadn’t it always been this way? Hadn’t the chemistry between them exploded from the moment their paths had first crossed, when the impossible had happened?

      And