The Sheik's Secret Bride. Susan Mallery
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came down on hers. The action shouldn’t have surprised her, yet she couldn’t believe it was happening. The warm pressure of his lips moved against her in a way that left her feeling branded and impossibly aroused. His grip on her was firm and unyielding, forcing her up against him until they touched completely from shoulder to knee. Her breasts flattened against his broad chest and her hands were trapped between her hipbone and his thigh.
She told herself to protest, to object, to squirm and pull away…but it had been a long time since a man had done this to her, and she was too weak to fight him.
Malik shifted, freeing her arms. He used one hand to brush against her back and the other to cradle her head, as if he feared she might pull away.
There was something about his lips—the heat, the firm softness, the way he took control while at the same time inviting her to come along on a sensual journey she couldn’t begin to imagine. Or maybe it was his body, right next to hers, hard and unyielding to her feminine curves. Her breasts felt so good pressing against his chest. Her nipples were hard points of desire. Her hips seemed to be pulsing and thrusting of their own free will. She didn’t understand her body or herself for not pushing away. In fact she found herself raising her arms until they encircled his neck. She drew herself up on her toes so that her body fit better against his.
He was kissing her with slow, sweet kisses that were almost innocent, yet incredibly seductive. The masculine scent of him surrounded her, filling her with an intoxication that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life. It was not just that she would now be able to find him in the dark—she would crawl over broken glass for the privilege of inhaling that scent one last time before she died.
Then he brushed her lower lip with his tongue. One slow, deliberate act of passion that nearly made her cry out. Without thinking she parted her lips to admit him, aware that she was crossing a line, and that once she did so, there could be no retreat. She wanted him with a desperation that left her shattered and afraid. Yet, as he entered her, she welcomed him with darting brushes of her tongue against his.
And then whatever civility still existed between them disappeared, burned to dust by the explosion that rocked through her like lightning cutting through a tree. She shook violently as he invaded her mouth. No longer gentle or smooth, he plunged and explored like a man on an urgent mission. He discovered the secrets of her mouth, what made her surge toward him, what made her gasp. He buried his fingers into her thick hair and moved them up and down her back. He slipped lower and cupped her behind, squeezing the full curves and making her pulse against him in a way designed to make them both think of the ultimate act of love.
She found herself wanting to tear off her clothes, to expose herself to him so that he would know how much she wanted him. She thought about them making love right here, on the sofa, or perhaps on the dining-room table. She needed him the way she needed air, and knew that if she didn’t have him right now, she wouldn’t survive.
The sense of being out of control was so unfamiliar that it shocked her into stepping away from him. Without wanting to, she raised her fingers to her mouth and pressed them against her throbbing skin. Her body still trembled and the heat continued to pour through her, arousing her to a fevered pitch.
“I can’t,” she whispered, not sure if she meant she couldn’t do that again, or if she couldn’t bear to stop.
Malik’s dark gaze was unreadable, his expression as hard as his body had been. He seemed to be caught up in his own private hell, and she wondered if she’d been the only one to feel the fire between them. What a cruel joke of fate that would be—that the first man to make her understand what all the fuss was about when it came to passion was also a man who was immune to her. Could that be possible? Had she been the only one to feel the intensity of their connection?
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