And through it all he watched her in the mirror and felt something stronger than satisfaction. It felt much darker than gratification that he’d given a lover pleasure. It felt like possessiveness.
Which was nonsense. It was just a masculine response to the delicious sight of Rosanna in the throes of bliss.
Yet he battled the feeling that this was more than simple sex. She captivated him.
It was just that the wait to claim his lover again had been too long. He wasn’t used to waiting for any woman. His liaisons in the past had been much less complicated. The illusion would pass once he’d reached his own climax.
Rosanna was still shaking when he slipped his hand into his back pocket and drew out a condom.
‘Here, lean against this.’
His voice was guttural with repressed need as he gently moved Rosanna sideways so she could grasp the back of a high sofa. As soon as he knew she could support herself he undid his jeans and sheathed himself. Even that practised movement was fraught with danger. He was so aroused he feared he mightn’t last.
So instead of lifting Rosanna over onto the sofa, he moved behind her, bending his knees and positioning himself at the centre of her feminine heat.
Any fear that she’d had enough after that orgasm faded as she shimmied her hips, drawing up higher to accommodate him more easily. There, he nudged her entrance and lightning jagged through him.
‘Ready?’
For answer she pushed her rump towards him, enclosing him in damp heat.
That was it. Salim couldn’t wait. He grabbed her hips and thrust long and true, on and on, right to her heart.
The sensation of her tight, wet heat folding around him like a closing fist sent a tremor of raw excitement down his spine and through his groin.
‘Yes,’ he hissed, barely able to hear the word over the pounding in his ears. She felt so good he had to wait, gather his control, before moving again.
But Rosanna was moving. He opened his eyes and saw her wrenching open her shirt buttons, then struggling free of the fabric. She leaned forward enough to slip a hand between them and flick her bra undone. A second later it was gone too and in the mirror he saw her pink-crested breasts bob free.
Salim swallowed a groan. He wasn’t going to last long enough to enjoy this as he wanted.
Then she grabbed one of his hands, tugging it free of her hip, and dragged it up her body, planting it with a breathless sigh on her breast.
Yes, that was better. So much better that Salim’s thighs were rock hard with the effort not to buck harder.
‘Look in the bathroom, Rosanna.’
His voice was so thick it took her a moment to understand. When she did, their eyes met in the mirror, hers widening at the erotic sight they made. Yet she wasn’t dismayed. Salim felt the pulse of pleasure through her body.
That was enough to crack his control. He moved, withdrawing so slowly it was exquisite pain, then pushed up hard, into her sweet depths, his hand tight on her breast, his gaze holding hers.
He heard her snatched hiss of breath. Or was that his? He saw her eyes grow hooded with pleasure as she bucked her hips back against him, lodging him deeper still.
She looked so beautiful with her hair loose around her bare shoulders, her skin flushed and mouth panting with every quick breath. Salim slid his other hand from her hip, watching in the mirror as his hair-darkened arm contrasted with her pale skin, and he took the precious weight of her other breast too.
A voice inside cried out in triumph and he moved again, this time not pausing, simply following the dictates of his animal brain that pushed him higher and deeper, stronger and harder.
But most profound of all was the sense of shared purpose. The diamond-bright glitter in Rosanna’s eyes as she met him thrust for thrust. The arch of her body, the way she pushed her breasts into his hands and quivered when he hit that sweet spot deep inside.
He liked that so much his attention turned from his own needs to finding that spot again and again till, like a desert storm appearing out of nowhere, she convulsed around him.
He had an instant’s satisfaction that he’d brought her to another pinnacle, then the storm smashed in and tore him free of the mundane world. Salim hung on, pumping frantically in ecstasy, teetering on that knife edge of need so exquisite it veered towards pain. Then, with a roar of shocked completion, he slumped over her, gathering her to him and burying his face in her scented hair.
Rosanna woke, smiling, to a feeling of warmth and luxurious wellbeing that had become familiar over the past few days.
Salim lay entangled with her, his powerful body encompassing her in the way she adored. He was fast asleep, which wasn’t surprising given how little rest they’d had. And how very active he’d been a short time before.
Her smile widened into a grin. She could count on the fingers of one hand the hours Salim had spent away from her since they’d arrived. Then it had only been because even on holiday a sheikh needed to maintain contact with his staff in case anything vital cropped up.