Christmas Bride For The Sheikh

And she lay on her side, trying to recover and somewhat bemused as she watched him undress, for she had wanted to do that part.

Hazin was like no other lover.

He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks.

She wanted to feel the muscled arms beneath the white shirt.

Yet he denied her that pleasure.

She wanted to tug at his belt and to feel him, yet she breathlessly watched instead.

God, he was exquisite.

Lean and strong and completely unabashed. He smiled over to her, an arrogant smile, and she returned it, for they were feasting on each other with their eyes.

He went into the bedside drawer and took out a condom. She reached out to touch him but he slapped her hand back. Again she had to settle for watching and she bit on her lip as he stood and gave his long thick length a couple of deft strokes before sliding on the condom.

It shouldn’t have been sexy, yet it absolutely was. She was burning from her roots to her toes, on fire as he climbed into bed beside her.

And then finally, finally he kissed her.

He rolled her onto her back and he gave her all that had been denied until now. His tongue was probing and his mouth was urgent and rough. Finally, she felt those muscled arms and the satin of his skin. He drove into her and she cried out because he was not a gentle lover, but his controlled power was the just the right kind roughness, for he stroked her deep inside and seemed to read her wants instinctively.

Hazin spoke in Arabic, yet she somehow understood every word, for they were so hot together and so damned good.

Worries fell like dominos.

That row at work? Gone.

The bastard earlier? Forgotten.

Obsolete.

Hazin felt the same.

For the first time utterly attuned to another person.

He had tasted her first peak of pleasure, but the second gripped him and the shudder and pulsing grip of her just about finished him.

‘Hazin,’ Flo begged, because she was utterly spent, and then, when it should have been over, he kissed her back.

A kiss so soft and slow it tasted of the romance both had denied.

It was like finding herself in the wrong dream.

Scary almost to know him tender as well as urgent and passionate.

And even scarier for Flo to reveal her other side.

Flo opened her eyes and met his and there was a moment of utter connection. Her legs loosened their grip on him and he thrust slowly. So intimate and slow were they that she deep-kissed his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, as they locked into each other; tasting each other, and raining kisses as he took her to a place she had never been.

It felt like the edge of something, like she had finally stumbled into the right dream as he called her name and reached his own moment of release. And when there was nothing left to give, her body found an untapped resource, for she beat to his tune, this utter giddying orgasm, that only he could evoke.

His weight on her felt necessary and, oh, so right.

She could lie there and not think for a moment, just enjoy the bliss of them both sated.

He really was bliss, for there was no dark silence afterwards, just a light kiss and the warmth of his embrace.

‘I’m glad you were there tonight,’ Hazin said.

So was she.

* * *

Flo awoke, of course, with regret.

Please, she bargained with the powers that be, reverse this mistake and I will give up men for life.

Then she felt the wetof his tongue and the warmth of his breath on her neck and the light dusting of his fingers on her stomach.

And then the tearing of the condom foil lit her like a match as he pulled her against him.

Tomorrow, she vowed as he slipped inside her.

She would start being good tomorrow.

CHAPTER THREE (#u04dc8459-e341-5a3f-a28a-4932707cbbfa)

HAZIN SHOWERED AND thought of the woman who now lay in his bed.

He liked her being there.

Flo made him laugh and that in itself was unusual for there had been little laughter of late.

As a rule, Hazin offered no breakfast with bed that might encourage an overnight guest to stay longer, but he came out and dried himself with a towel and found he had not changed his mind—he wanted her here.

‘Do you want breakfast?’

‘That would be lovely,’ Flo said, and sat up as he picked up the bedside phone and ordered breakfast for two.

She did not know how to tell Hazin that she knew who he was and wished that she had got it out of the way last night.

Now she stood watching him dry off. There was a bruise on his chest that her mouth had made and another on his neck. He was muscled and toned and his length was rising from his thigh. He watched her watching it.

‘Did I miss a bit?’ he said, holding the towel out to her. She wanted to take it, to dry his glistening skin and then wet him again with her mouth. Their want and desire was so matched, and her body so willing, but she had to clear things up first.

‘Hazin,’ Flo said, declining the towel, and she swallowed nervously as he resumed his leisurely drying off. ‘Last night, I came—’