Captivated by the Sheikh. Annie West

tightened on that sensitive bud, twisted just a fraction, and her whole body jolted.

      It was as if she’d been waiting just for him. The thought was ridiculous, but an inviting fantasy, one he couldn’t quite shake.

      Her breath came in shallow pants, the sound of it igniting a heat deep in his loins. He was hard with desire, had been since lunch, when he’d tasted her in his mouth, had invited her to taste him. But now he’d reached a point where control was almost impossible. He let himself move across her body, insinuating his thighs between hers till he lay cradled against her, his erection throbbing its intent.

      He didn’t know if he could hold out much longer. But then he looked into Rosalie’s face and read the stunned blankness there. She wanted him, but something, the furrow of surprise on her brow, gave him pause.

      So he did what he’d wanted from the first—lowered his head to her breast. The fresh scent of her rose in his nostrils and her velvet-soft skin was a living caress against his chest.

      He kissed her nipple, holding her tight in his arms as she almost came up off the bed in response. It was as if he’d triggered an earthquake deep inside her. The shudders echoed through her as he laved her breast. When he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, her moans grew frantic. Her hands clenched against his skull as he tasted her sweetness, then moved to her other breast.

      Restlessly her legs shifted against his and he allowed himself the luxury of pushing down against her, feeling her intimate heat against his erection, even through their clothes.

      Soon.

      His control was shredding, spinning away as his pulse thundered louder in his ears.

      ‘Arik,’ she whispered, ‘please…’

      Without thought his hand arrowed to the button on her trousers, the zip, pushing it down. He lifted himself a fraction from her as she tilted her hips and he stripped the cotton material down her thighs—enough to give him free access to the place he most wanted to be.

      ‘Please,’ she whispered again and he planted his palm between her thighs, pushing up against her sensitive core.

      ‘Arik!’ Her voice had a husky, sensual quality he loved, but when he raised his head to see her face he wondered if it was panic or delight he read on her features.

      ‘Shh, it’s all right, Rosalie. Just relax.’ Her blind eyes turned to his and gradually focused. A jab of something that had the force of lightning struck right through him, making his heart leap.

      Her hands slid down to cradle his neck. They were unsteady, shaking but warm and gently sensuous as they massaged his stiff muscles.

      He searched her most secret place, circled and found the point he was seeking. She was hot, wet, ready.

      ‘Arik? I don’t—’

      ‘Trust me, Rosalie.’ Whatever her past sexual encounters, it was clear her experience hadn’t included much pleasure. The realisation brought anger. And a deep protectiveness, a need to ensure this was absolutely right for her.

      She opened her mouth to respond as he stroked her slowly, surely, and suddenly she gasped. The light tremors that had been racing through her body became shudders. She bucked up against his hand with a force that belied her small frame. And her gaze clung to his—jade-green, brilliant and intoxicating. He could drown in that gaze, watching her come apart just for him. The thrill of it, of her body arching into his, the sound of his name on her lips again and again as she sighed out her delight, was better than anything that had gone before.

      Her eyes drifted shut as the last of the vibrations subsided. His own body was on fire, desperate for release, after the heady sensations of Rosalie’s climax. He slid his fingers between her legs and another aftershock racked her.

      So incredibly sensual.

      Gently he leaned down and took her mouth with his. Her response was instant, her lips opening to his, even though her movements were slow, languorous. He delved deep into her mouth, allowing himself the freedom he hadn’t yet had with her body.

      She moaned and tilted her head towards his, her fingers spreading out over his shoulders. Automatically his lower body pressed in against hers, right into the hot centre of her, and light spun behind his eyelids at the sensations of pleasure coursing through his body.

      Their kiss held a different, richer quality now as she responded to his lead with a ready sultriness that urged him to deepen his caresses. The taste of her was designed to drive any man out of his senses. And the way she held him tight with her hands, the way her luscious body cushioned his, accepting and matching the insistent push of his erection against her, made his head spin.

      At last he drew away, far enough that her hands broke their hold and slid slowly, provocatively down over his chest. Her eyes were closed, her lips plump and pink with the force of their passion. A wash of colour spread across her breasts and up her cheeks, highlighting her delicate features. She breathed deeply and for a moment he was riveted by the sight of her perfect breasts, rising and falling. Hair like dawn gold flared across the silk coverlet, softer and more enticing than any man-made fabric.

      Who was this woman who’d appeared out of nowhere just days ago? Who’d taken over his life? Absorbed his every waking hour and burrowed deep into his emotions?

      She was a miracle.

      He pushed himself up and away on his arms, then knelt to strip the last of her clothes from her. The heady scent of female arousal registered in his nostrils, inciting him to move more quickly.

      It was the work of a few moments to remove her clothes, and his own, and reach for the protection he’d promised her.

      Rosalie’s world had tilted completely off its axis. She’d spun crazily out of control in Arik’s arms as he’d brought her to a juddering, mind-blowing climax. It had been all red-hot light and heat, searing her body till she’d thought there’d be nothing left of her but ashes. Only Arik, his gaze holding hers, his body anchoring her to the spot, had brought her back to something like safety again. If it hadn’t been for the link between them she felt she might have died from pure ecstasy.

      His dark eyes had been the only real thing in her consciousness, other than the impossible burst of fire in her blood.

      And now she felt…she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to give a name to the sense of wellbeing, of effervescent excitement that filled her, but she couldn’t.

      Her body was weighted, yet tingling with life. She stretched, registering for the first time the slide of the luxurious coverlet beneath her body. Her bare body. Arik had peeled away the last of her clothes just a moment ago.

      Rosalie snapped open her eyes, anxious now that she couldn’t feel him against her. But when she located him she swallowed hard.

      He stood beside the bed, feet planted wide in a stance that was utterly masculine. He was naked, gloriously so, his dark olive skin the perfect foil for his athlete’s body. Every taut muscle and powerful curve was bare for her to see. She stared, fascinated, at the fuzz of dark hair across his pectoral muscles that narrowed and disappeared as it descended. He’d make a wonderful study for an artist. Magnificent proportions, latent power and pure energy from every angle.

      But she couldn’t view Arik with an artist’s dispassionate eye. She’d lost that objectivity.

      Instead she dragged in an unsteady breath at the image of rampant male libido before her. He thrilled her. And frightened her.

      He was fitting a condom. Rosalie swallowed again, her mouth suddenly dry. Surely it would break…it couldn’t possibly…but it did. She felt her eyes widen.

      He looked up and smiled at her, a tight, lopsided smile that nevertheless had the power to unravel some of the spiralling tension inside her.

      ‘Rosalie,’ he murmured as he took a single stride to the bed and knelt above her. ‘My beautiful golden girl.’ He raised her limp hand in his and kissed the palm, nipping at the fleshy part of it till a spear