Modern Romance December Books 5-8. Дженнифер Хейворд

of the night. His heart had turned to stone when her duplicity had been uncovered, and he had focused his mind solely on Qalala, vowing never to be duped again. So yes, trust was an issue for him. It was as vital as the air he breathed, and he was always waiting to be disappointed. But he’d put all that aside for this one night.

      ‘When you surrender to pleasure there are no barriers left,’ he told Lucy as she undressed him.

      ‘And none required,’ she promised as her nimble fingers flew over his remaining clothes.

      Placing her hands palms flat against Tadj’s chest, Lucy indicated that she would set the pace. He could have thrown her back and done anything he wanted, but that was what she meant by trust. One night to remember for all the right reasons, she thought, though her inner self warned that one night wouldn’t be nearly enough. It would have to be, she thought.

      Beneath Tadj’s control, she sensed a fire raging. She had never felt like this...so excited and lustful, which was hardly surprising when he stood before her naked and magnificent, like a bronze cast by Michelangelo. Fear of sex with such a big man had quickly been replaced by a hunger to know him inside her. Tadj would put her needs first, of that she was sure. He was such a compelling presence, he had pushed all the horrors she’d witnessed at home behind her with no effort at all. If he hadn’t been the Emir of Qalala, and she no one in particular, she could easily have fallen in love with him.

      ‘My turn now,’ he said.

      There’d be no argument there, she thought as he deftly removed her bra, maintaining eye contact while he did so.

      ‘Good?’ he murmured, surely knowing that everything he did was so much better than good.

      Lucy couldn’t help her shiver of delight. Burying her face in Tadj’s hard, warm chest, she listened to the steady beat of his heart. It calmed her, and seemed to promise that whatever happened next, she would know pleasure as never before. Stretching out his length alongside her, he proved to be even bigger than she’d imagined. Against him, she was like a slender twig with breasts—breasts he seemed to admire—and she gasped with pleasure when he gave them his attention. She craved him, ached for him, and only one thing could ease that, but Tadj appeared to be in no hurry to relieve her frustration. Moving down the bed, he began by massaging her feet and kissing them. Sensation overload, she thought as the pleasure transferred to her core. Turning her, he dropped kisses on the back of her knees. More sensation...more gasping for sufficient breath—she’d had no idea she was so sensitive.

      She was naked apart from her tiny lace thong, and shivering with arousal in his arms. Writhing against the sheets, she craved firmer contact and yearned for release. Tadj answered this with firm-handed strokes down the length of her back, as if he were taming a spirited pony. Shaking uncontrollably, she finally settled again, and had to wait to see what he’d do next.

      ‘You’re very sensitive,’ he commented, as if this pleased him.

      She could do no more than hum contentedly, though she cried out with excitement when Tadj transferred his skill to her thighs. Almost without knowing she was doing so, she parted her legs in a blatant invitation for him to explore. She had never ached with need like this before, and was almost begging by the time he allowed his fingertips to brush against her. Grabbing a pillow, she clutched it to her chest as if that could imbue her with the strength to wait.

      ‘Turn onto your back,’ he instructed.

      His tone aroused her beyond bearing, and she hurried to do as he said.

      Scraping his stubble across the very sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, he made her cry out with need. If this was being instructed in the art of pleasure, she was the most willing student there could ever be.

      Resting her legs over his shoulders, Tadj concentrated his attention on that area that had waited so patiently, while she moaned softly and rhythmically as he attended to her needs with his tongue.

      ‘Now,’ he prompted in a low, yet commanding tone, and, lifting his head, he watched her reaction as he replaced the touch of his tongue with his hand.

      She couldn’t hold on—impossible. The thought that she was exposing herself, body and soul, flashed briefly across her mind, but carnal hunger had soon extinguished the last of her doubts, and she fell greedily, screaming repeatedly with pleasure as the most powerful release took her over.

      ‘Good,’ Tadj praised, soothing her with kisses as he slowly brought her down.

      Good didn’t even begin to describe what she had experienced. Clinging to him, she silently begged for more...and not so silently, which made him laugh, just a low chuckle down deep in his chest, but it was the feeling of closeness she valued most of all. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that this must end. Tadj was so right for her in every way. There was only one thing wrong with that thought, which was that reality had to intrude at some point.

      ‘Beautiful,’ he whispered, pulling back.

      She wasn’t beautiful, but he made her feel beautiful. Somehow, her hang-ups deserted her with Tadj. Which was strange when the contrast between them was so stark. He was beautiful. Built like a gladiator, swarthy and tanned, he was tough, yet careful with her, and exceptionally easy on the eye. No other man could compare, which almost certainly meant she’d never have another lover. Fate was a cruel mistress. Tadj was the Emir of Qalala and out of reach, but that couldn’t stop them enjoying each other’s bodies.

      ‘What’s amusing you now?’ he asked with one of his dark smiles.

      ‘Just one of my fantasies,’ she admitted.

      ‘Forget fantasies,’ he advised, moving over her. ‘Reality is much more fun. And don’t tense up when there’s no need.’

      Was he joking? It would take both her hands to encompass him, and then only just.

      ‘I won’t hurt you,’ he promised. ‘Greedy must wait,’ he warned, teasing her with kisses as she thrashed her head about on the pillows.

      ‘But not for long,’ she argued fiercely.

      Finding her needy place, he gave it his close attention, which brought her to the edge in moments. But just as she was about to tip over into pleasure, he withdrew his coaxing hand, leaving her panting and unsatisfied.

      ‘Part your legs wider,’ he commanded softly. ‘That’s better,’ he approved. ‘Now...’ Reaching for a pillow, he slipped it beneath her buttocks, raising her even higher for his attention. She was completely exposed, completely vulnerable, which allowed Tadj to stimulate the area all around her sensitive core, without allowing her the release she so badly needed.

      ‘I can’t hold on,’ she heard herself wail.

      ‘You must,’ Tadj insisted, ‘or I’ll stop.’

      With a noisy gust of frustration, she raged, ‘But I can’t—I need it now!’

      ‘You need me to teach you the benefit of restraint,’ he argued softly.

      ‘Just a bit more,’ she begged in what she hoped was her most appealing voice.

      ‘And have you lose control?’ Tadj asked. He gave her one of his looks.

      ‘Why shouldn’t I lose control? Isn’t that what this is about?’

      ‘As I said, you have a lot to learn,’ he told her. ‘You will lose control, not once, but many times, if you listen to my instruction. Hold your legs open for me,’ he commanded.

      He only had to brush his fingertips across that painfully sensitive place to send her screaming off the edge. Arcing her body towards him, she thrust mindlessly in a rhythmical pattern that was an age-old hunt for union with her mate.

      Tadj coolly denied her his hand. ‘Wider,’ he insisted.

      By this point she was glad to do anything he suggested. ‘More,’ she managed on a shaking breath.

      He brought her to the edge again, easing