She gave a wicked little twist of her hips, reducing him to a groaning wreck as he let her take charge, closing his eyes and holding tight to what little control he had left. The sensation of her breasts against his chest, her hands in his hair, while all the time her secret muscles stroked and tightened, drawing him out of himself and into a world of pure sensation such as he had never felt before.
‘Aziza...’ he managed, raw and rough, and felt the unexpected laughter that shook her slender form.
‘I know,’ she assured him, whispering against his ear, her breath warm on his skin. ‘Believe me, I know.’
She abandoned her tormenting seduction and clamped her hands over his shoulders so as to give herself support as she gave in to the need that was burning in her too and took him higher, higher...
Until, with her name a choking cry on his lips, he gave himself up to the sensation, losing himself, his mind seeming to explode in the same moment that his body abandoned all control and let the hot, fierce essence of his seed pump into her as she too gave a loud, keening cry of fulfilment.
A long time later his mind came back into his body, his heart rate easing to a point where he could actually breathe again. But he still couldn’t see or even hear anything but the jagged breathing of the woman who sat astride him, her head limp against his shoulder, her internal muscles still holding him, her shudders of completion slowing, ebbing away.
‘So now...’
It was the only sound his tongue was capable of. The only thought his mind could manage. All he could focus on was her, Aziza, his wife, the woman who had just obliterated all awareness of anything but her as he’d lost himself in her.
‘Now do you see why I chose you?’
He was getting control of his breath, snatching in great gulps of air as his heart rate eased, his chest stopped heaving.
‘And they thought I might choose your sister.’
Aziza’s smooth body suddenly stiffened against him. He didn’t recognise her withdrawal so much as feel the way that her head lifted slightly, leaving a small cooling spot on his shoulder, a tiny movement dragging the wet silk of her hair across his skin.
‘I would have been crazy to do that when you’re all woman.’
He stirred slightly, enjoying the sensation as he moved her body against his, the way her legs still held him. At the same time he stroked his hands down from her shoulders and along the length of her spine, spreading out at the base to curve over her hips.
‘Curves in the right places...’
He was already hungry for her again, hardening, thickening, pressing against her. If he carried her to the bedroom they could take up where they had left off—in a lot more comfort.
‘Child-bearing hips.’
Too late he realised that his sensual daydream was not shared. Aziza’s body was taut and distant; her fine bones as brittle as glass as she held herself away from him. Once more he caressed her hips but felt her instant and unbelievable rejection.
‘No!’ She scrambled from him, slightly clumsy in her unexpected haste to be free.
He reached up, tried to grab her hand, but she dodged his reaching fingers, twisting free from the awkward half-grasp he managed.
‘No!’ she said again, her head down, black hair hiding her face as she whirled away, dashing for the doorway, fleeing out and down the corridor before he had even registered that she had got away from him.
What the devil had got into her? He had made it plain that he desired her like a crazy man. He’d even said it, for goodness’ sake! But she had turned from him and run as if he had suddenly sprouted horns. Pushing himself to his feet, he set off after her.
It seemed that he and his wife needed to talk—really talk.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHILD-BEARING HIPS...
The words rang inside Aziza’s head as she dashed down the long corridors, thankful that she didn’t meet any member of the palace staff before she reached the safety of her suite—Nabil’s suite.
Be honest, she reproved herself bitterly. She didn’t own anything inside this marriage; it all belonged to Nabil. And she was here for one reason—and one reason only. She was expected to provide the King with his vital heirs. That was the reason he had picked her instead of her sister. She knew that so why should she expect anything more from this man who was her husband? The man she had been fool enough to allow her own heart to open up and fall in love with.
And that was where the problem had its roots. She had gone to the pool in an attempt to get away from her thoughts, to try to accept what she had and not look for more. But she wanted more.