Best of Brides 2008 by Susan Mallery

Author:Susan Mallery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

KHALID knew he’d lost his mind the moment he met Olivia, but now he was getting dangerously close to losing control.

Body burning, he followed Liv down the narrow stairs to her suite of rooms, his gaze riveted to the very feminine sway of her hips and the round, firm curve of her derriere. Watching her though was sweet torture, his groin growing harder by the second, his shaft already so erect it hurt to walk.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman, and yet he wasn’t going to take her. He’d never made a business out of deflowering virgins—especially since that seemed to be Zayad, his middle brother’s, specialty—and with Liv’s freedom at stake, Khalid was determined to do everything right.

At her bedroom door, he gave her a gentle push inside. “You’d better lock it fast,” he said, his voice husky.

Instead she reached for him, catching his sleeve in her hand and tugging him toward her.

Liv knew she was playing with fire, knew she just might get more than she’d bargained for, but right now she welcomed the heat, especially if it would answer whatever it was burning her up on the inside.

“Five minutes,” she whispered, feeling like the devil, feeling bad, wicked, but also knowing that once the truth came out, once everything became known, she’d never have this chance again. She’d never have him again.

“I won’t make love to you,” he said, even as she pulled him into her room.

“Fine. Just kiss me some more,” she answered, locking the door behind them.

“You’re only going to drive us crazy.”

“We’re already on the way to crazy,” she answered unsteadily, her legs shaking as she approached Khalid one nervous step at a time.

“You are going to marry me,” he said, arms folded over his chest, his expression enigmatic. “It’s not a choice. It’s something we must do now.”

“Can we forget marriage—”

“No.”

She felt nearly feverish as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Let’s just forget wedding talk for five minutes.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

She took the final step toward him, closing the distance between them, her thighs against his thighs, her breasts to his chest, her hands on his waist to hold her steady. “You want to kiss me,” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

“I want to kiss you so badly that my body hurts,” he answered, his jaw flexing.

“So do it.”

He sat down on the bed and pulled her between his knees so that she stood before him. Watching her face, he slowly lifted her caftan and then kissed her flat stomach and leisurely took his time, kissing his way higher.

She gasped at the warmth of his mouth on her bare skin, and the tingling sensation of his mouth on her rib cage, and then at the sensitive spot just beneath her bra.

She gasped again when he kissed her through the delicate silk bra, and then closed his mouth on her taut, aching nipple. His mouth felt hot, wet, and as he sucked her lower belly clenched, and clenched again.

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