Bound to Seduction

CHAPTER NINE

Mira’s skin tingled with excitement and nervousness. Not the same nervousness she’d felt the last time they were together. No, she wasn’t worried about pleasing him; she was worried about what came after. What she and Claire had discussed. What she had to do when it was over.

Don’t think about that now. Think about Tariq. Think about being with him. Think about this last moment together.

He lowered his mouth to hers, and she opened to him without hesitation, tasted the hunger on his tongue—the same hunger she knew was on hers. His hand slid down her spine, pressed gently against her lower back, drawing her body even tighter against his. She moaned into his mouth, tangled her fingers in his hair, and kissed him harder. Wanted to kiss him as no one had ever kissed him before. As she hoped no one would ever kiss him again.

He hadn’t said he loved her, but that was okay. She didn’t need the words. She knew he cared about her. And that was enough.

She took a step forward, forcing him back. When his butt hit the raised bed, she slid her hands down his chest, smiled as his arms closed around her and he lifted her feet off the floor, then laid her out of the mattress just as she wanted.

He was all solid muscle and chiseled angles. She watched in wonder as he shrugged out of his shirt, kicked off his boots, as he climbed over her. Desire darkened his eyes, brought a flush to his cheeks that superheated her blood. She reached for him, was careful not to touch the wounds on his back, then lifted to meet him, pressing her lips against his with a fierceness that stole her breath. He lowered his body to hers, and she loved the beat of his heart against her own, loved the heat radiating from his skin. Loved how they fit together as if they were made for each other.

He kissed her jaw, her earlobe, trailed his lips down her neck, and nibbled at the tender column of flesh. She moaned, arched into him. He slid his hand across her belly, under her shirt, and up to palm her breast. Electricity rippled across her skin as she lowered her back to the mattress again. As she found his mouth and kissed him once more while his fingers teased her nipple into a hard point beneath the satin of her bra.

She broke away from his mouth. Breathed heavily. “Tariq—”

“Lift up, hayaati.” He eased off her so she could sit up, then tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Eyes locked on her satiny bra, he flipped the front clasp and tugged that off as well until her breasts spilled into his large, more than capable hands.

“So soft,” he whispered. Her nipples tightened under his heated stare. As he cupped each one and ran his thumb across the tip. Then she nearly came out of her skin when he lowered his head and laved his tongue across her nipple.

Groaning, Mira dropped her head back in pleasure and arched into his mouth. She’d had lovers before, but none had been like Tariq. None had known where to touch her to make her lose control. Dark flashes of arousal pulsed through her. She wanted to taste him on her tongue again. Wanted to feel his cock deep inside. Wanted him limp and sated in her arms when it was over then begging for more. And she wanted to be the only one to satisfy him, just like this, every day, for the rest of his days, however long that may be.

Don’t think about the future. Just enjoy right now.

She knew that was what she had to do. She knew it was the only way she’d survive. But it didn’t stop her from wanting. From needing. From dreaming about a future she knew they could never have.

He flicked the button on her jeans as he brought his mouth back to hers, slid the zipper down. When she lifted, he pushed his hand inside her jeans and around to cup her ass, grinding his erection against her mound until she saw stars.

“I love the sounds you make, hayaati.”

She loved the sounds he made too. Loved when he groaned against her. When he rubbed that glorious erection between her legs as he was doing now. Just when she thought she’d go mad from the grinding, he broke away from her mouth, dragged her jeans and underwear down her hips, tore them from her legs, and dropped them on the floor near her shirt. Then he peeled off his own jeans and climbed back on the bed, smiled in that sexy, lazy way of his that heated her blood to near-boiling levels.

Her gaze slid over his perfect body. She could stare at him for hours and never tire of the view. But right now she wanted more than just looking. She wanted him.

He cupped her left breast, then slid his fingers lower to her stomach, and finally into all her moist, wet heat. She groaned again, lifted her hips. Needed him everywhere. Anywhere. “Tariq…”

“You’re so wet, hayaati.” He lowered his head, nibbled at her neck, teased her with his fingers.

She closed her eyes and rode his fingers as he stroked her, gave herself over to his wicked touch. Tingles spread out from her sex, loosened her limbs, made her achy with need. She turned her head, found his mouth, kissed him deep while he circled her clit with his thumb, while he slid his fingers lower and finally inside her.

She groaned, tightened around him. Gasped when he stroked her deep. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. “Tariq, I need you now.”

His eyes were as dark as she’d ever seen them when he pulled back from her mouth, and stared down at her. He shifted his body over her, pushed up on one hand, then filled her in one fluid movement that drew a gasp from her lips and sent pleasure spiraling through every cell.

Yes. Yes…

She tightened around his length. Tried to hang on to his shoulders as he drew back out and in. As he slowly picked up his pace, that pleasure grew in intensity until it was all she could feel.

“Mira,” he moaned. “Allah, I love being inside you.”

She loved having him inside her. She met each thrust with her own. His lips closed over hers. She moaned into his mouth, wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she lifted to meet him. And she kissed him again and again while he made love to her. Wanting to draw this moment out. Knowing it was going to be their last.

Tears burned her eyes, but she forced them back, didn’t want anything to ruin the moment. They rocked gently against each other on the boat. Water lapped at the hull. But she knew he was getting close. She could tell by the flush of his cheeks, by the way he thickened inside her. By the way he hit that spot again and again, driving her closer to her own release.

“Open your eyes, Mira. Come with me.”

She blinked several times, met his gaze. And his eyes…God, they were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Not sharp or brilliant in color but vibrant. Fathomless. Alive. Everything she felt when she was with him.

Her orgasm rocketed through her, sending electrical sensations all through her body that robbed her of breath and thought and focus. It went on and on as he thrust harder, deeper, as he filled her as no one ever had before. And when he roared through his own release, long moments later, she was still shuddering, still jerking, still moaning at the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced.

He fell against her. Aftershocks continued to ripple through her body, but thought returned. And with it, a feeling of completeness, of belonging. Of home.

Slowly, she sifted her fingers into his damp hair, kissed his temple. “That was better than last time,” she said. “Think you can do that again?”

He chuckled, and the vibrations spread all through her chest, warming her deep inside. “This time, I might need a moment to recover, hayaati.”

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “So much for being an all-powerful supernatural being, huh?”

He smiled as he pushed up on his arm and looked down at her. A devilishly sexy grin that heated her blood all over again. “Are you mocking me?”

“No, I was just stating an observation.” She hooked one leg around his thigh and rolled him to his back, keeping him locked tight within her. He went easily, smiling at her joke the whole time. And she took that as a sign that his back didn’t hurt nearly as much anymore. Or maybe she’d taken away the pain. “What if I promise to do all the work?”

She pushed up to sitting. Tightened her sheath. Grinned down at him with all the confidence she hadn’t known was inside her. His eyes darkened again as he rested his hands at her hips and she rocked slowly against him. He hardened quickly inside her, as if all he needed was that tiny bit of coaxing.

“And what if I want to help?” he asked, lifting to thrust deeper inside her. “Just a little?”

She grew wet and hot and achy all over again. Bracing her hands on each side of his head, she leaned close. “I guess a little help won’t hurt, djinni. But this time, my wish is to pleasure you. So you have to let me do whatever I want.”

His lips curled as she closed her mouth over his. As she lifted and lowered. As she slid her tongue along his and tasted his hunger all over again.

“Your wish, hayaati. My command.”