Defying her Desert Duty by Annie West

Author:Annie West [West, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781408974551
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2012-10-12T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

SORAYA had imagined his kiss so often. She’d even dreamed of it. The reality obliterated her imaginings as a tidal wave would the ripple of a single stone.

Zahir’s broad hands cradled her face, his touch tender yet strong as he held her head just so and angled his own for better access.

His questing tongue slicked her lips, parted them, and she shuddered in great racking waves as sensation exploded within her. Zahir devoured her, invited her, stole her breath with his audacious demands, yet even while plundering rapaciously offered back such sweet, poignant pleasure Soraya was lost.

The fresh taste of his breath was in her mouth. It was the most delicious flavour in the world—spice and salt and the mystery that was maleness. His scent filled her nostrils. His hard body was muscled and intriguing, his heart thundering with hers. His wet skin burned, branding her through her clothes, making her breasts tingle and a curl of indescribable tension twist deep and low.

Instinctively she grabbed his shoulders, swaying as her limbs melted, and the world became a place she didn’t recognise.

Nothing had prepared her for the vital life force throbbing through them as if they were one. Or the need spiralling out of control and the sheer wanton delight of being in his arms. Every sense was hyper-alert. Even the softly eddying water was a silken caress drawing her deeper into sensual overload.

She’d never felt more frail, more delicately feminine than now, with his heavy-muscled thighs braced wide around her, his hands trapping her, and his mouth seducing her with sheer, carnal pleasure.

Yet she’d never felt stronger. As if power sizzled and sparked in her blood. As if she could lay mountains low with a single flick of her fingers.

His kiss shattered her and rebuilt her at the same time.

Her hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, up through his damp hair and he growled low in the back of his throat. It was a sound of approval, of male possession, and she revelled in it. Revelled in the power that she, even with her inexperience, had over this man who haunted her thoughts and dreams.

His tongue slid against hers, demanding a response, and she gave it, tentatively at first, then wholeheartedly, lost in the wonder of this heady world of passion.

Her whole body ached, throbbed for Zahir. Only him. She wanted to climb up his tall frame and meld herself against him. She needed with a desperation she’d never experienced or thought to know.

Even the rough pressure of his chest expanding against hers incited a thrill.

Soraya pressed closer, needy as never before. She loved the feel of his body, the unfamiliar outline of muscle, bone and sinew. The tickle of his hairy legs against hers. Lifting herself higher into his hold, her hips tilted against him and she registered the solid proof of his arousal.

At the feel of him, hot and heavy just there against her, she stilled. A frayed thread of common sense told her to move away, yet some older, sense-deep feminine instinct urged her closer.

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