Modern Romance December Books 5-8. Дженнифер Хейворд

      ‘Don’t I,’ he agreed.

      Powered by surprise, she pressed her hands against his chest. Tadj was rock hard, and didn’t move. Tadj, hot, wet and hard, was enough to melt the firmest resolve. Animal instinct took over. Anger was a passion, and passion led to lust. They’d been too long apart, and she’d missed him too much. All they’d shared was too fresh in her memory. Yanking her close, he held her firmly against his hard length and kissed her, and within moments she was kissing him back.

      There was no point trying to pretend she didn’t want this. Pressed up against him with those skilful hands resting on her buttocks, she could only think of one thing. But it pleased her to put up a token struggle, just for the friction of his body against hers.

      ‘Are you saying you don’t want this?’ he demanded harshly. Dipping at the knees, he teased her in the way she loved.

      ‘Tadj...’

      ‘Yes?’ he murmured, knowing she would soon be past speech.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped, wanting to delay the moment of mating to make it all the sweeter.

      ‘Water saving?’ Tadj’s lips pressed down with irony. ‘Auditioning for my new role as your lover?’

      No need for that, she thought. She wanted to say, ‘Hurry,’ but refused to give him the satisfaction. And this was Tadj, the man she loved, the man she would always love. ‘In your own time,’ she said, matching his cynical tone.

      He was on fire for her. She was perfection beneath his hands. Every curve of her body might have been designed with him in mind. He might be bigger than she was, but they fitted together perfectly. She matched him in every way there was. Right now, it was her breasts claiming his attention. When he caressed them, her nipples pressed imperatively against his palms. Lucy was all heat. Her familiar wildflower scent intoxicated his senses. Slipping his hands beneath her buttocks, he positioned her, while she gripped his arms as if her life depended on it. The desire to possess her grew stronger with every passing second, as did his wish for the novelty of serving—for now—as her all too willing lover. He was so turned on he was in agony. Remembering the last time they’d had sex didn’t help, because it reminded him how big he was, how tight she was, and how it felt to be deep inside her. It was also a timely reminder to take things slowly so he didn’t hurt her.

      This consideration went no way to discouraging Lucy, who commanded, ‘No, don’t take your hand away. I like it where it is. If you’re my lover, you have to do as I wish, which means following my commands to the letter.’

      This was one instruction he had no difficulty obeying, and he laughed softly to see her reaction as he stimulated her the way she liked. ‘I’m yours to command,’ he said as he thrust her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her, and, with water cascading over them, he gave her what she wanted.

      Some things would always overrule common sense, and even pride, Lucy thought as Tadj brought her to the edge of reason, and this was one of them. As she rocketed into the first noisy release, she had to accept that she needed this—him—so badly that she wouldn’t be able to think straight until he’d done with her. It was a long time before she quieted, then she realised groggily that Tadj was still kissing her, still moving, as he awakened her to the possibility of more pleasure.

      ‘How did I do?’ he asked dryly. ‘Do I get the job?’

      ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ she lied, smiling against his chest. She felt so safe in Tadj’s embrace, she never wanted to move—never wanted this to end, but it would end; it must, because Tadj was the Emir of Qalala, while she was an independent woman, building her life and career, who had no intention of throwing everything away on a passion that must surely burn itself out. Becoming his mistress was a short-term arrangement, while being a mother was for life. She must remain free and self-sufficient, though it was all too easy to think they were meant to be together. Reality was harsh, she accepted as he nuzzled her neck and prepared to take her again. Tadj’s life would move on, as would hers. ‘No,’ she whispered.

      ‘No, until Qalala?’ he suggested, the same irony colouring his tone, as if he doubted restraint was possible. ‘You do well to conserve your strength.’

      ‘I’m looking forward to visiting your country,’ she said honestly, ‘but I’m making one condition.’

      Tadj’s brows shot up. ‘Which is?’ he pressed.

      ‘That no announcement is made about my becoming your official mistress.’

      Tadj’s expression darkened. No one had ever given the Emir of Qalala instructions before, Lucy presumed.

      ‘You need to get away, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes,’ she readily accepted, ‘but I think more of you than to think you mean to hold me to ransom for that. I have a life, Tadj, as you do—Tadj, no!’ she insisted as he dipped at the knees to take her again.

      ‘Tadj, yes,’ he argued in a soft, husky tone that tormented her senses to the point of no return.

      ‘I need you to take me seriously,’ she managed somehow to gasp out.

      ‘Oh, I do,’ he assured her as he did what they both needed, and with the most consummate skill.

       CHAPTER NINE

      IT WAS HARD to remain unmoved when you loved someone as much as she loved Tadj, Lucy realised as they kissed and touched. She felt safe in his arms as Tadj took her on a journey of pleasure; he made her forget everything, except arousal, which he increased by murmuring words in his own tongue. Even fears of the inevitable emotional fallout when this love affair ended, as it surely must when he returned to being the Emir of Qalala, and she was a working mother, stood no chance.

      ‘Not done yet?’ he whispered when she tried to steady her emotion-fuelled breathing. ‘Then, use me as you want,’ he invited.

      ‘No energy left. You drained me completely.’

      ‘I don’t believe you.’

      Tadj’s darkly amused expression worked its magic, and she reached for him again, with the warning, ‘You’ll have to do all the work.’

      ‘As your official lover, I expect to. It’s my duty,’ he said dryly.

      ‘I’m glad you understand your responsibilities,’ she agreed, longing for so much more. But Tadj was too good for her to ignore the sensation building inside her, and she groaned to encourage him as he continued. He brought her to the edge quickly, but kept her waiting, leaving her stranded on a plateau of pleasure, from which there seemed no way down. ‘Please,’ she begged.

      ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘In my own time, I seem to remember you instructing.’

      He hissed through his teeth as Lucy reached for him. Had he forgotten that her appetite matched his? He took her again, firmly, slamming her against the wall as he dipped at the knees to thrust deep.

      ‘Yes, yes! Please!’ she responded in a throaty scream.

      ‘I aim to please,’ he said, relishing how tight she was as he set up a firm and regular beat.

      ‘You do please,’ she assured him, laughing with abandon as she moved vigorously in time with him.

      He brought her to the edge and tipped her over, not once, but several times, until he was sure the marble must crack under the force of her screams of pleasure. When finally she lay quiet and relaxed in his arms, he swaddled her in a warm, fluffy towel and carried her to bed, where they made love again.

      It was dark when Lucy finally surfaced, feeling very well used and as contented as a kitten.

      Wake up! She was no kitten. Allowing her feelings for Tadj to grow was reckless. Giving herself body and soul, when nothing in the future