The Desert King's Secret Heir by Annie West

Author:Annie West [West, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

ARDEN WAS OUT for the count, limp with satiation, yet Idris couldn’t keep his hands off her. She’d slept at least an hour and he was only human. He’d already fumbled on the bedside table for another condom and sheathed himself, yet still she hadn’t stirred.

Idris ran his palm over the sinuous curve from her shoulder down her ribcage to her narrow waist then up to her hip. Lying on her side, that intoxicating female outline was even more pronounced.

His hand drifted from her hip to her belly, feathering the soft down between her legs, and she sighed in her sleep, shifting and stretching. He smiled, closing the gap between them. Immediately he felt her buttocks press back, cushioning his erection.

His breath stalled. His heart pounded so hard she must feel it hammering against her back.

‘Shakil?’ Her voice was a drowsy mumble that made him smile, though he registered chagrin that she’d used his boyish nickname.

Even half-awake she knew it was him. He’d hated the thought of the other men who’d no doubt been in her life. It was unreasonable, but he wanted to be the only man she’d ever had.

He remembered his soaring elation, the unexpected humility of learning he was her first lover. That had to explain this deeply proprietorial response he hadn’t been able to conquer since London.

That and the fact she’s your wife.

Your life has changed for ever.

Yet the dread voice of reason couldn’t dim the sheer excitement of having her in his bed.

His.

Idris slid his fingers down, following that downy arrow to her sensitive nub. Her breath caught on a sigh and her pelvis tilted into his touch. She might be barely awake but she wanted him. He pressed his mouth to her neck, tasting the rich sweetness that was hers alone. Then her earlobe, scraping it gently with his teeth, and she shivered delicately, her back bowing again, arching that lush bottom into his groin.

But it wasn’t enough. ‘Tell me what you want.’ He needed to hear it again.

‘You. I want you.’ Her voice was husky with desire and it aroused him as much as her sexy body. More. Her admission was potently exciting, even though he’d observed, as long ago as London, the attraction she tried to deny.

She wriggled, pressing herself against his groin, creating a firestorm of wanting.

In one swift movement he rose to his knees, grabbing her hips and lifting her so she knelt on the bed before him, his hands planted hard on her hips, caging her to him. Idris waited, breath bated, partly to give himself time to regain some control and partly to see Arden’s reaction.

She bunched the sheet in her outstretched hands and shimmied her hips back and up into his pelvis.

Idris swallowed a groan of pain. It was exquisite torture, bliss and unbearable longing, kneeling here, with her so inviting before him. Impossible not to look down, to see her peach of a backside pushing at his erection.

Once again the firestorm hit—a blast of longing, of desperate arousal stronger than anything he could recall.

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