Rumours: The Billion-Dollar Brides: The Desert King's Blackmailed Bride (Brides for the Taking) / The Italian's One-Night Baby (Brides for the Taking) / Sold for the Greek's Heir (Brides for the Taking). LYNNE GRAHAM
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planted his hands beside her head and pushed his lean strong body into hers, letting her feel the urgency of his need. ‘Sensible is the very last thing you make me feel—’
Polly gazed up at him, loving every proud line and hollow of his lean, hard face and the stunning black-fringed dark eyes that often made her breath hitch in her dry throat. ‘Well, if I have to suffer, why shouldn’t you?’ she teased.
Challenged, Rashad dug his hands into the silky swathe of hair she had unbraided and brought his mouth crashing down in hungry demand on hers. The very taste of her was an aphrodisiac. He was wound up tight as a spring and Polly was the only woman who had ever had that much power over him. He craved her body like a drug and revelled unashamedly in her responsiveness. At first, his extreme need for her had disturbed him and he had tried to restrain that need, but a willing Polly in his bed every night, and most unforgettably a Polly wantonly bending over the dining-room table while offering him a cheeky smile of challenge, had demolished his resistance entirely. They had a scorchingly sexual and satisfying connection he had never thought to find in marriage.
Polly’s clothes came off long before they made it into the shower. He tormented her swollen nipples with his mouth while his lean fingers probed the receptive wetness between her thighs and expertly fuelled her hunger. He hauled her up to him and brought her down on him, bracing her hips against the wall to take her with hard, forceful thrusts that made her cry out in excitement and blissful pleasure. Barely able to stand in the aftermath, she rested up against him for support and let him carry her into the shower.
‘How useful are you finding Hayat?’ he asked curiously as he switched on the multi-jets of water.
‘She’s indispensable,’ Polly admitted, for she was making her first official appearance as Rashad’s wife that evening at a diplomatic dinner in the capital, Kashan. ‘She’s explaining everything I need to know. She’s like a walking book on faces, etiquette, clothes. I couldn’t do without her.’
‘That’s good,’ Rashad responded, hiding his surprise at the news. Polly’s grandfather had suggested Hayat for the role of supporting Polly and it seemed the older man must also have seen a side to the waspish brunette that Rashad had failed to appreciate. At the same time, however, as his sister-in-law, he acknowledged that Hayat deserved superior status and recognition.
Having shampooed her hair, Polly surveyed Rashad as he lounged back against the tiled wall, slumberous and relaxed and all male to her appreciative gaze. She padded forward and rested her hands down on his wide shoulders before slowly tracing them down over his washboard abs, watching his lush black lashes shift upward, his dark golden eyes shimmer tawny with renewed desire.
‘You are so predictable,’ she scolded. ‘Do you ever say no?’
At that sally, Rashad grinned with unabashed enjoyment, slashing cheekbones taut below his bronzed skin. ‘Do you want me to?’
And no, she didn’t, she acknowledged as her hands went travelling down over his lean, powerful physique in confident reacquaintance. She turned him on and she liked that power very much, adored the way he closed his eyes and simply let her do as she liked with him, the evidence of his arousal hard and smooth and pulsing between her fingers. She stroked, cupped, knelt at his bare brown feet and used her mouth on him until he groaned and shuddered and lifted her up to him with impatient hands and brought her down on him again with all the explosive demanding passion he couldn’t control. Afterwards she was limp with satiation and drowsy as he washed her down, showering away the proof of their intimacy and roughly rubbing her dry with fleecy towels. Having to get dressed again was a trial, she reflected.
‘I’m so sleepy,’ she complained as he walked her back through the palace, his hand engulfing hers and maintaining a physical link with her that she appreciated.
‘Take a nap before this evening. You’ll be standing around a lot meeting people before the meal,’ he warned.
‘Do you need a nap?’ his bride asked him winsomely.
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