He frowned, as his mouth found her naval and flicked it. “You do not like to hear that I find you distractingly beautiful?”
“No.” She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. Her body was on fire. She pulled for his shoulders, trying to sneak her fingers inside his collar, to find his warm skin and scratch it with her nails. “I think you have been with a heap of women who did like that kind of thing, though.”
“You’re not one of them?”
“Definitely not.” She arched her back as his mouth moved closer to the line of her underwear. His fingers hooked inside, pulling it down the length of her legs and exposing her feminine core to him. She cried out as the cold air brushed over her skin. The anticipation was too much to bear. His hands drove over her body, gliding past every single spot of skin, feeling and communicating, touching and teasing.
“Why not?” His lips were on her breasts again, and his hands were parting her legs, teasing her entrance. She bucked sharply off the bed, her hips lifting as pleasure and sensation ravaged her body.
“You’re still wearing clothes,” she complained, running her hands down his coat, pushing at the waistband of his pants, searching for contact.
“Very observant,” he laughed quietly. “You remember me saying that I want you here all night.”
She nodded. “But I feel at a disadvantage.”
“You are,” he grinned, lifting his head to meet her eyes.
Olivia shifted beneath him, her body feeling more alive than it ever had before. “Let me undress you.” His eyes widened, his lips twisted into a smile.
“In good time,” he promised throatily, padding his thumb across her womanhood.
“No, not in good time,” she contradicted demandingly. “Now.”
His response was a laugh, quiet and low in his throat. “You’re impatient.”
“Yes.”
“I like it.”
“Do you?” She pushed at his coat, and this time, he let it slide it down his arms. He tossed it across the room, earning a teasing smile of reproof from Olivia. “That thing probably cost what I earn in a month.”
He nodded. “Perhaps.”
Her hands were working his buttons, but it was difficult to lace them through the shirt holes when her fingers were quivering like a dandelion on the breeze. “Help,” she grunted finally, flicking her hair away from her face and looking up into his eyes.
He knelt between her legs and ripped the shirt off, sending it on a similar trajectory his jacket had sailed. Naked from the waist up, Olivia couldn’t help but stare. His chest rippled with muscles. It was bare and smooth but for a line of coarse dark hair that ran to his pants. She lifted her hands and trailed the muscles, biting down on her lip as she felt them bunch in response to her contact.
“Now who’s perfect?” She asked quietly, pushing up onto her elbows so that she could kiss him. She wrapped her fingers around his neck and pulled him back to the bed, on top of her, his weight like an essential life ingredient she hadn’t even realised she’d been missing. The evening was cold, and he was warm. Warm and strong, and everything she needed in that moment.
Olivia didn’t dare think about the moments that would follow. How she would fe
el afterwards. No, she didn’t dare think of that. She didn’t allow herself to wonder if she’d regret this. If she’d wish she’d been more circumspect and prudent.
She’d only slept with two other men. One had been a long term boyfriend, and the other had been a rebound after Simon had broken her heart. So what was her excuse this time?
Her eyes crashed down to his perfect back, rippling as he moved over her, and she knew. Who could resist Tamir Al’ani? He was a man more desirable than three thousand others. He was truly heaven-sent.
She wrapped her naked legs around his waist, wishing his pants were no longer present. She pressed her hips against his arousal, thrilling at the promise of what was to come. “I want…” She cried into the dark room. “I need…”
“I know,” he whispered, tickling her ear with his tongue. “I understand.”
Her fingers searched for his belt, and she loosened it, pulling it from his pants and dropping it to the bed. It slithered off, landing with a resounding thud against the plush carpet. Olivia didn’t notice. She was one step closer to seeing him naked and feeling him.
“Did I really only meet you last night?” She groaned, pulling at the button and snapping her nail in her haste.
He didn’t answer, but he had the same sense of surprise. The orchestral performance had lasted two hours, and he’d watched her the entire time. He had stared at her, experiencing the performance through her emotive responses. He’d spent thirty minutes in a back room with her, wanting her and denying himself that pleasure, and then he’d dreamed of her, and thought of her, until he wondered if he was going insane. Now, she was here in his bed, and nothing about it felt too sudden. But it was. Tamir was used to bedding women he hardly knew, but they were different. Women who approached him, wanting to be a part of the Sultan’s life, if only briefly. They understood what he had to offer.
Did Olivia?