Carol Marinelli - Bound To The Sheikh Page 3

  She stepped into his arms.

  Chapter Four

  The earlier touch of his hand on her elbow had done little to prepare her for being held by him.

  Despite brave appearances, he could feel the tension in her and the slight panic of her body that somehow, even though he held her, resisted his touch.

  At first.

  It had been a very long time since she had danced with another or even been held, but then he pulled her in a touch closer and she rested her burning face on the cool of his shirt and swayed in his arms to the song of her heart.

  His base scent was pure male but there too was the dark, woody scent of black musk and over that the sharp, clean tang of bergamot and there were notes she did not recognize but it was an intoxicating blend.

  There was a slight jostle from another couple that danced near them and he pulled her tighter in. She could feel her breasts flatten against him and she could feel the ache of them. His hand pressed into the small of her back and as she looked up, instead of meeting his eyes, she was so closely held that his jaw scratched her forehead and she wanted his mouth to move lower.

  He obliged, first she received the lightest kisses on her closed eyes. Feather light and warm but they fanned her want and his lips dragged over her cheek till his breath was beside her ear. Emily’s hand balled a little on his chest, digging her fingers into the strong muscled wall that she was held against.

  “How Am I”, Blaze asked in velvet tones and all Emily knew was that she was holding her breath, that the top of her thighs were tense, and that she could feel his arousal against the soft of her stomach.

  “How Am I”, Emily asked herself.

  Awoken.

  It was the most delicious place she had ever stepped into, a warm sensual space that had been lost for too long.

  It was a different place though from one she had ever been with another, for she felt like a puppet in his arms and it was a space only her mind had guiltily explored.

  What would he think if he knew this was her first time in years?

  More nerve-wracking than her first time even.

  Then it had been a slow and natural progression. Stephen had been her first kiss, her one and only lover. Now to feel different arms and a body upright and strong made her want to lie down.

  “What do you love best about your work?” Ashim’s voice was low.

  He had not wanted to know much but a little of her he did.

  He expected a seductive laugh, for her to say, as others in a similar role had—“this.”

  “Tell me.”

  And so she did. “There’s a moment just after takeoff…” Emily moved her face back and he lowered his head so they were lip to hot lip, close enough that he could feel her words on his. “I can’t really explain it, there’s this feeling of relief…”

  Ashim pulled back just to meet her glittering gaze.

  “Where?” his hand closed over hers and she moved it to her chest.

  “Here.”

  “Does it feel like this?”

  His lips dusted over hers, toyed with them almost because he did not exert pressure just warmed and teased.

  “No…” Because his light kiss made her feel weak. She sought the pleasure behind his lips and parted hers. His tongue introduced itself slowly, light teasing strokes that were so expertly played that she moaned with suppressed desire and slight shock as to how good a kiss could be.

  He kissed her harder, the hand between them now stroked the underside of her breast and with the other he exerted a little more pressure on the base of her spine then it moved to the back of her neck and to the tie of dress and toyed with it in a such a way that spoke of his want for her naked.

  And that was her want.

  That he would take her to the place she needed now to be.

  He knew, just a second before she did, the very moment that reality invaded, because her mouth stilled and her body tensed and an internal struggle took place as Emily realised that here she was, kissing another man.

  Her reentry into the world had been planned to be a gradual one and yet she was coming rapidly undone.

  She pulled her head back just so she could see the man who was building her to a frenzy with just a kiss and Ashim looked down to her guilt ridden eyes and wondered who she was running from.

  He didn’t care, just so long as tonight she ran to him.

  There was another jostle from dancing couples but instead of drawing them closer this time it was enough to break them apart a fraction.

  Emily looked over to the marquee, wondering if she should make an excuse about finding her friend but instead she froze when she saw Gene.

  He wasn’t looking at her though, instead his face twisted in rage as he caught sight of Ashim.

  Ashim made the tabloid headlines rather than read them but he knew who this was.

  Oh, Ravel had told him she had left her husband but it would seem, at the time, she had forgotten to mention it to Gene.

  And of course, she’d omitted to tell Ashim about her three children.

  That night he had not chosen carefully and it angered him still.

  Ravel hadn’t just wanted him, she had wanted to make her husband jealous and she’d succeeded from the look Gene was giving him now.

  Clearly drunk, Gene picked up a bottle of champagne and a few women near him screamed as he smashed it against a table.

  Ashim never ran from anything.

  There was not even a flicker of fear in him, Ashim knew, even with his hands tied, that he could disarm Gene with ease. He was a warrior, and had been trained by masters, but he looked over to Emily, her eyes wide in fear and he was cross with Gene, only for spoiling their moment.

  Seeing trouble, security was starting to close in and beyond the roped of area cameras were homed—Sheikh Ashim Al Raquar was in town, after all, and the night was again about to turn wild.

  Gene lunged and Emily watched as Ashim caught his wrist and simply stared the man down.

  “You’re a bastard,” Gene shouted. “My wife….”

  “Begged.” Ashim sneered out one word and Emily shivered.

  Gene dropped the bottle and then Ashim dropped his wrist.

  “Blame me for your failings in your marriage if you choose to,” Ashim said in his low, growly voice. “Or man up and face them.”

  He looked over to the security. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

  He threw a brief look of contempt to Gene and then he turned and walked, not away, but directly to where Emily stood.

  “Are you coming?” Ashim asked and he gestured his head not to the streets but to the ocean and she knew he meant his yacht.

  Emily had a split second to make up her mind.

  He was bad, he was dangerous, and he could be hers for one night.

  It would be sheer madness to say yes, Emily thought.

  Or it could be a night realizing forbidden dreams.

  He offered his hand and she looked at it and then to him.

  “I don’t beg,” Emily said.

  “You’ll do,” Ashim responded in low, clipped tones. “As told.”

  Chapter Five

  “Emily! Wait!”

  Ashim’s hand was hot and dry around hers, his other was in the small of her back, steering her towards the rope as Cathy’s voice caught up with them.

  “Emily, please wait, can I have a word?”

  As they turned, Emily saw the look that Cathy threw at Ashim as she upped her request. “Alone?”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Ashim said. “I’ll meet you over there…” He nodded in the direction of the speedboat that had brought him here.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m going to his yacht.”

  “Emily,” Cathy was blunt. “He had an affair with Ravel and we all know what she’s into…”

  “Oh, so you believe the magazines?”

  “Where there’s smoke,” Cathy said. “I’m the last person to judge or play the moral
police but…” She gave a helpless shrug. “I know I told you to break out but this is a bit extreme. He won’t even remember your name in the morning.”

  “I’m not thinking about the morning,” Emily said. “Look, while I appreciate your concern I don’t need it.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Emily didn’t answer, what she wanted to say was it was years too late for that.

  She had hurt so badly.

  “I’ll be fine,” Emily said only it was not the words of a martyr this time as she walked off into the night. The security guard lifted the rope and the breeze whipped her hair and was possibly the reason for the sting in her eyes.

  No, they were tears she had refused to shed for herself.

  It had seemed wrong to bemoan her losses, when Stephen’s had been so evident.

  Wrong to miss a sensual touch.

  Wrong to mourn the gaping hole of her sex life and the babies she had never had.

  So much easier to say she was fine, to shake her head and say, no she’d never wanted children and that her career was her baby.

  It had been easier to avoid guilt and turn over and force sleep when fantasies entered and her body begged for relief.

  She had saved her escapes for dark hotel rooms and now she wanted the escape of his yacht.

  Hurt? Oh there had been so much hurt and then she looked to where he stood, waiting…

  For her.

  Oh, God, surely she deserved one reckless night, to explore her fantasies with another rather than alone, Emily thought and, as she ran towards him he held out his hand and helped her into the speed boat.

  No words were uttered as they cut through the water toward his yacht Ashim took out the remaining pins from her hair so that it streamed like a silver curtain in the moonlight and they left the world behind.

  Her heart was thudding as she stepped on board but not with fear, more anticipation.

  She could hear Blaze, in fact, she could hear her more clearly from here because there weren’t others milling around, and she stood a little unsure for a moment.

  “Do you want dinner?”

  She remembered she had been starving but that was a dulled sensation now, overridden by an even more basic need.

  “No.”

  He spoke in Arabic and out of the corner of her eye she could see, presumably, his staff disappear and she knew then that they were finally alone.

  “Where were we?” Ashim asked. “Before we were disturbed.”

  “Dancing.”

  “Come here then.”

  His breathing was more ragged than before; she could feel the tension in his muscles and guessed he might have preferred to have fought Gene than to walk away.

  She could hear the thump of his heart as her head rested on his chest and it was if he had been running and his restless energy was not tamed by this dance.

  His fingers were back at the knot of her dress and now he did not toy, he undid it and peeled her dress down so she was naked from the waist up and as they danced his fingers explored her back, pressing into the vertebrae, stroking her skin, till she ached for contact with his and he was the same.

  “Undo my shirt,” Ashim told her.

  She wanted to tear at it but as her shaking hands opened one then two buttons he spoke.

  “Slowly.”

  It was like opening a present and being told halfway through to slow down.

  Emily tried to steady her breathing as she revealed his dark skin and she held in on a sob of frustration as he told her again to slow down as she freed his shirt and her hand dusted his erection.

  Undone, she slid his shirt over broad shoulders and her fingers dug into them feeling the muscled power for a moment. Then she had the reward of his arms wrapping around her and his strong naked body against her breasts and cheek as his hands pushed down her dress and she stepped out of it.

  Naked apart from the silver knickers she had bought today, she tried to tell herself she was no more naked than if she were wearing half a bikini, she could hear shouts and laughter from another super yacht and told herself the party was wilder there than a dance, but she was naked in the arms of another man, and guilt resided.

  “Can anyone see us?” Emily asked.

  “Why would we care?”

  She was fighting with herself; Ashim could feel it—this contrary woman who ran to him one minute and then curbed her desire the very next. He wanted to understand her. “We’re just dancing.”

  “Oh, no,” Emily said, because his finger had slid in between them and now toyed with one heavy, aching breast and she was on the very edge of coming. “We’re not just dancing.”

  He kissed her deep, his tongue expert, delivering small thrusts that warned where his mind was.

  And then, as she kissed him hard back, and sucked a little on his tongue and nipped at his lip till his hand tightened hard in her hair and he pulled her head back.

  His grip tightened and her mouth parted in bliss as he assessed. Ashim moved his mouth to her neck, and she stared up to a billion stars as he bruised her tender skin with his mouth but when he’d branded her his, and his mouth lowered to her breast she was less brave.

  “Not here.”

  “Here.”

  She tasted fantastic, Emily knew that she did from the moan he gave as he tried for small teasing licks of her thick nipple and gave in and between his lips he clamped it, flicking the tip with his tongue then taking her deep into his mouth. The vacuum he made, the bliss of his tongue, had her let out a purr.

  She had been right, not here, Ashim decided because one taste and he did not want to stop for the distance to his suite.

  Yet he did.

  Chapter Six

  She saw nothing as he kissed her into the master suite.

  Her legs were wrapped around his hips as he carried her there, provoking with her mouth and hot damp knickers that pressed into him.

  Ashim stood her down when she didn’t want him to.

  He would take his time and Emily stood panting but not begging.

  When she went for his belt her hands met his but as she looked down he cupped her chin with firm fingers and allowed her only to feel.

  He was solid and hard through the fabric; she could feel her breath coming out of her nostrils. She undid his zipper and she bit down on her lips at the first feel of him, silken pubic hair and then the velvet steel of his cock as she freed him and intimately held him.

  He could sense that she was conflicted, her eyes flared with lust yet her fingers were tentative as they explored him and, as she ran a light finger around his engorged head, he watched the small lick of her lips as he moistened to her touch.

  He wanted to see her but as he went to turn on the light she stopped him.

  “Don’t.”

  “I want to see you,” Ashim said. He didn’t want someone who played shy.

  “I don’t want to be able to see you…” Emily responded and she gave a nervous swallow, wondering if he’d understand.

  Ashim saw the glitter in her eyes and already hard, already turned on, he was more so as this nervous woman revealed a little more of herself.

  “Then we’ll compromise.”

  She watched as he walked to a drawer and pulled out a tie and she turned around as he walked towards her and closed her eyes as he tied it.

  “Better?” he asked and she nodded and then she heard him flick on the lights. “Better,” Ashim agreed.

  She was shaking—drunk on a cocktail of nerves and arousal as her darkest dreams materialized.

  She could hear his breathing as his eyes roamed her body.

  Slowly.

  Ashim admired her feminine curves, her heavy breasts and pale areola, a lighter pink than her erect nipples.

  She was holding in her stomach, not for vanity, Ashim knew. She was tense, with one knee slightly bent and she stood on the ball of one foot as if at any moment she might change her mind and run.

  She might!

 
Emily’s ears strained, listening to the sound of him undressing, and then he came and put his hands on her shoulders so her tensed foot pushed to the ground and then walked her a few steps. He turned her, once, twice, and then once again. Where Emily faced she did not know, just that she was unsteady both from his proximity and the ocean that moved beneath them.

  It was disorientating, delicious.

  And then he made it more so.

  He pushed her, one press of his hand on her shoulder and toppled her and she fell backwards met by the slam of the mattress and she lay breathless trying to fathom where he now stood.

  “I thought you were sweet,” Ashim said.

  “I am.”

  “I thought you were shy.”

  “I am.” Emily said. “I still am.”

  Her desires were buried rivers of secrets, ones she had only explored alone, but as he stood over her and she lay there, Emily felt as if Ashim was assessing the sensual air like a diviner and locating her want.

  He found it.

  “Poor Emily.”

  His voice was a low caress and he watched as her face sought his direction and then a small Mona Lisa smile spread her lips.

  His hand reached for her knickers and hers met his wrist to stop him but he flicked it away and watched as she bit on her lips as he tore the silver lace and she let out a low keening moan as he went to part her thighs but she resisted and pressed her legs together.

  “Emily?” Ashim checked, and she lay there naked, vulnerable but not scared and she revealed more of her truth.

  “I don’t want it to be my fault.”

  Silence was his answer.

  The air was warm or was it just so thick with lust that she struggled to fully inflate her lungs and she lay there listening this time, rather than watching, as he opened the drawer again.

  He came over and took one loose arm and she felt cool silk close around her wrist and he tied it above her head and then did the same with other.

  She liked the restraint but nerves fluttered from her throat to her sex as she awaited his next movement.