SEDUCING HIS PRINCESS (11 page)

As he pulled back the chair for Jala and she stood up lithely, his heart again convulsed when he noticed the glance she exchanged with Najeeb. Shehab and Farooq ribbed him some more, while Kamal said nothing, the gaze encompassing him and Jala still...unconvinced.

Kamal must realize Jala’s lack of interaction with him wasn’t a matter of shyness in front of her brothers, or on account of the suddenness of their resumed relationship and its rapid development. After all, Kamal was a man versed in both his sister’s nature and in matters of the heart. He must realize something was wrong.

But still giving him all the support he could, Kamal waved his hand in mock imperiousness. “You may be excused, but only because we now have said pledge of allegiance and obedience, and can do anything at all with you.”

As everyone laughed again, Jala said, “It’s only fair to warn you that while you’ll have the allegiance, you’ll be out of luck where the obedience is concerned. From personal experience you know where
that
will be expended.” She turned and winked at her sisters-in-law. “Right, ladies?”

As her family all laughed, and Jawad and Haroon begged to hear some obedience examples—to fortify their resolve
never
to marry—she waved a final goodbye. Then she turned and headed out of the dining room, with him a step behind her.

Once they were away from the royal quarters, he opened the first door he found and pulled her into the chamber’s darkness, lifting her off the ground, already kissing her.

Her gasp filled him as her lips opened beneath his. Tasting the tart sweetness of berry sauce on her tongue, he groaned, plunging deeper, seeking more of her taste, demanding her surrender. For long minutes, she gave it to him as he pressed her against the door, opening her thighs around his hips and grinding at her core through their clothes, simulating the possession he was going insane for.

“Jala,
habibati...
”

She suddenly lurched and pushed at him.

Putting her back on her feet, he twisted a hand in the luxury of her hair, able to see her now that his sight had adapted to the faint lights coming from the windows. “Let me love you,
ya jalati.
Stop pushing me away. Let me close again. I know you want me as much as I want you.”

Her breasts still heaved against his chest, her body arched involuntarily into his even when her words rejected him. “I don’t care what I want. This isn’t what I agreed to.”

“Then agree to this now. To giving us another chance.”

“
No.
I don’t want another chance. I want to play my part until we’re sure your uncle will sign the treaties, then I want to leave. This is what I want to do. What I
need
to do.”

The desperation in her voice struck him in his vitals, made him stagger away.

And because he had admitted to himself that he loved her, only wanted her to be happy whatever the cost to him, he couldn’t pursue his seduction anymore. Not if, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, it distressed her that much. It might kill him to let her go, but he’d rather die than hurt her.

His shoulders slumped with defeat. “My uncle is sending you a set from the royal treasury. It’s his way of saying the peace treaty is as good as signed.”

After a long moment of staring at him, she whispered, “That’s great. I mean, that you think he’d sign, not about the jewels.”

He waved her qualification away. He knew she cared nothing about material things, and not because she had plenty of them. She made no use of her status in any way, not for herself. She used all her privileges to serve the world.

“I have the drafts of the treaties ready, and after Kamal approves them, I’ll present my uncle with them. My package for Saraya is very generous, but as you believe, he wouldn’t have felt secure enough or irreversibly connected to Judar without a union of blood. Which he now believes he’ll have, thanks to your cooperation. I don’t expect he’ll pose any further threat to peace.”

Her eyes wavered. This had clearly come out of left field for her. She’d expected him to continue his pursuit, his seduction. And here he was telling her there was no longer any reason for her to play along at all.

He exhaled roughly. “I had my chance with you, and I blew it. Or maybe there was never a chance to be had with you, then or now. I will take part in all the wedding preparations, so both my uncle and Kamal believe everything is in order and on schedule. I’ll push for an early signing of the treaties, which, now that my uncle is so amenable, I expect will be soon. Once he signs, I’ll reveal the truth and absorb whatever fallout ensues, away from you. Until then, I’ll give Kamal some convincing reason for leaving the palace. I’ll go in the morning, so you don’t have to put up with seeing me again.”

Nine

S
omething tore Mohab from the tentacles of fitful sleep.

The heart that no exertion or danger managed to send thundering, thundered now, past the comfort zone and into distress.

It only ever beat that way for Jala.

Jala.
Had something happened to...?

He shot up in bed, alarm swamping him.

“Sorry I startled you.”

Mohab felt as if he’d been hit by lightning.

Jala. Here. On his bed.

Leaning across him, body draped in white silk, silvered by the moon’s cool illumination, hair raining in sheets of solid darkness across the thighs twisted in his sheets, she looked like a night goddess, his every fantasy made flesh.

This had been the dream he’d been having. That she’d come to him. He’d felt her entering his room and...

He was still asleep!

But he felt awake. She felt real. But she couldn’t be real. She’d said no. Such an impassioned, desperate no.

So had he gone over the deep end? He’d been building up to a breakdown for years now. Was this it? He’d start wish-fulfilling wide-awake? Having delusions?

“I couldn’t stay away anymore. I couldn’t let you leave without telling you I still want you. Now more than ever.”

He
was
hearing those words. She was saying them. He knew because even he couldn’t imagine the way she made them sound, wouldn’t be that ambitious, that delusional as to make them such a throb of passion, such a scald of longing.

She was here. And she had said those words. Not the ones he needed, but still far more than he deserved.

I still want you. Now more than ever.

On their thousandth rotation inside of a single second, he reached out a hand to her face, still half expecting to find nothing but emptiness, for her image to dissipate.

His fingers touched the hot velvet of her cheek.

Groaning at the confirmation, he swung around to his bedside lamp. He had to see her better than the crescent moon through his open windows allowed.

With the chamber flooded in golden light, he turned to her and saw that the lace and satin nightgown and matching robe were cream, not white, the color offsetting the rich gold of her polished flesh.

Then he saw her eyes. Unlocked for him at last, letting him see inside her, see the full measure of her hunger.

Already hard beyond pain, heart trembling with disbelief still, he reached back to her, careful not to make any sudden moves, still afraid this dream might come to an end as every tortured one had in the past six years.

When he was an inch from touching her again, she did something that stopped his heart. What she’d done that night he’d first taken her to his penthouse.

She melted back on the bed, as if she couldn’t support herself anymore, threw her arms above her head, arched in surrender, a sultry moan spilling from deep rose lips.

“I
want
you, Mohab.”

Surging with her demand, he came over her, straddled her hips, cupping her face in trembling hands. “
Aih,
want me,
ya habibati,
atawassal elaiki—
I beg you. I’m yours to want.”

“Mohab...kiss my lips, give me yours...”

She reached up and grabbed his hair. This was why he’d let it grow, because she’d once told him she wanted it longer to pull him by, to tether him closer to her on their wild rides. Now she dragged his head with it, surging up to crash her mouth against his. Her tongue delved inside him, tangling in abandon with his.

He let her storm him, let her show him the measure of her pent-up craving and impatience. Then he took over.

He’d show her six years’ worth of hunger. Then he’d give her satiation well worth the wait.

He bit into her lower lip, showing her the power of his own craving, before he suckled it inside his mouth in long, smooth pulls, drawing more plumpness into her succulent flesh, then plunging his tongue inside her.

Her whimpers became incessant, her hands clenched in his hair as she wrestled with him for deeper surrender, the pain of her urgency excruciating pleasure. She crushed her breasts into his chest, cushioning him, one leg escaping his prison to wind around his hip in abandon. She was showing him she wanted anything he’d do to her. Anything at all.

Then she moaned into his mouth, “Touch me, Mohab, all over. Do everything to me, don’t be gentle...I can’t bear for you to be gentle.... I want your full force. I want you inside me, hard and long and now...
now,
Mohab. I can’t wait anymore...I can’t wait....”

Elation sizzled in his blood. She’d never been this vocal, never told him what she wanted or how she wanted it.

“
Aih, gulili aish betridi—
tell me what you want,
ya galbi.
” His voice shook as he pushed the robe off her shoulders, then raised her arms over her head once more and, in a luxurious upward sweep, freed her from her nightgown. She only had bikini panties beneath, which he took off, as well. Then he pulled back to fill his eyes with her.
“Ma ajmalek, ya habibati, ajmal men zekrayati, men ahlami.”

“
You
are.” She pressed kisses onto any part of him she reached, his chest, arms, hands. “So much more beautiful than my memories and my dreams.”

Arousal hammering in his blood, pounding in his loins, he sculpted her in a frenzy of memory and rediscovery, owned each remembered inch of her silken skin, kneading new curves, digging into strength and soft femininity. Her flesh hummed beneath his fingers, electrifying him.

Her teeth sank into his hand. “Touch my breasts....”

A chuckle revved in his chest, resonating his delight that she was so aggressively demanding his pleasuring. He loved it.

“
Amrek ya hayati,
command me.” He took their weight in his palms and stared at their ripened perfection, stroking their turgid flesh in wonder, squeezing their incredible resilience, circling the buds he’d tasted during so many rides to ecstasy. They were thicker now, darker, more mouthwatering.

With a long whimper, she attacked his pajama bottoms. He let her push them down his hips, growling as she released an erection that had long hardened to steel. Rising to release himself fully, he watched her fling herself up at him, then rumbled as she bunched her hands in his back muscles and latched her teeth into the muscles of his abdomen and torso, writhing against him as if she’d mingle their flesh.

He subdued her back to the bed and she wound herself around him, her voice a thread about to snap. “Come inside me, Mohab...don’t make me wait anymore...please...
please...
”

He devoured her pleas, unleashed now that he knew only the savagery of his need would satisfy her.

His lips relinquishing hers, he sowed a path of kisses and suckles lower, until he possessed her breasts, raining bites over their engorged beauty until she crushed his head to her, mashing her flesh into his mouth. He latched on to one nipple, then the other, alternating heavy pulls and sharp nips, each rewarded by a lurch and a shriek.

When he felt her stimulation becoming distress, his hands dragged over her soft, satiny flesh to her core. Spreading her, he slid between her feminine lips, growling with the extent of her readiness. He was coming apart needing to be inside her, but he had to prepare her. For he
wouldn’t
be gentle when he took her. As she’d commanded. Clamping his lips on hers, he probed her, plunged two, then three fingers inside her hot channel.

Her thighs clamped his hand, her fingers dug into his scalp as her body convulsed, sharp, spasmodic squeals gusting into his lungs. She was climaxing.
With but a touch.
He’d aroused her that much.

He allowed himself a moment to watch her in the throes of satisfaction, the sight he’d starved for for six bleak years. Then he took her mouth again, doing to it what his fingers still did to her core, feeding her frenzy, loving every jerk, drinking every last whimper until she slumped in his arms, all precious, satisfied woman.

Or so he thought. In a minute, her lips found his chest again, her leg rubbing against his hardness. Imprisoning it in both of his, he clamped the hand that greedily caressed his shaft.

“I want to touch you, Mohab, taste you....”

The memory alone of her head bowed at his loins, her hair spread on his thighs, the sweep of her back, the flare of her hips as she rubbed herself against his legs like a feline in heat, moaning her pleasure as she worshipped him with trembling hands and swollen lips, almost made him come.

“Later, Jala. Own me later.
Areed aklek, akhullusek—
I want to devour you, finish you.”

“No...just come inside me....” She wrapped her legs around his hips, ground her moist heat over his erection.

He savored the torture for a moment, absorbing her need, then opened her folds with the head of his erection, and she mewled and spread herself wider for him, the sound and sight almost making his skull burst. He circled the engorged bud of her arousal, drawing more keens, more prodding twists in his hair. Then he slid from her grasp and moved between her thighs.

Before she could protest again, he took her feminine lips in a voracious kiss, his tongue lapping her in long sweeps. Her protests fractured only when he suckled her bud until he had her thrashing, begging. When he knew she couldn’t stand anymore, he bit down on her.

The force of her release razed through his body, almost triggering his. He again pushed three fingers inside her, sharpening her pleasure, lapping up its flood until her voice broke and her body slumped.

Still lapping at her, soothing now, he rested his head over her trembling thigh, tenderness a rising tide through the sustained agony. How he’d missed pleasuring her.

Her shaking hands wound in his hair again, dragging him up by it as he’d dreamed she’d do for so long. He obeyed her, swept up over her, sank languorously into her kiss. Reveling in her hands roaming his body, he could feel her extracting his soul, reclaiming him with her raging need.

She suckled his earlobe, bit it, sending a million arrows lodging into his erection, whispered in a voice roughened by abandon and satisfaction, “
Now
will you come inside me?”

“
Enti to’morini...
you only have to
command me.”

“I did nothing but command you...to no avail.”

A guffaw ripped out of him. The fact that she was teasing him now was so unexpected, so delightful.

His hands dug into the buttocks undulating against him. “You call this ‘no avail’?”

In answer, she pressed her body and lips to his. “I call anything that doesn’t end with you inside me that.”

“I spent six years planning all the ways I’d pleasure you when I finally got my hands and lips on you again,
ya rohi.
”

She pulled him back over her, eyes feverish. “I only want one way. You. Inside me.
Now,
Mohab.”

His heart boomed with gratitude and pride. She didn’t want just any pleasure, no matter how fierce. She wanted the pleasure of union, with him.

It was humbling that she desired him as much as before and more. But his passion had intensified through the forging of denial and disappointment, frustration and separation, though mostly by total, unconditional love. Why had hers strengthened? He couldn’t tell, could only give thanks.

For one last moment before he joined them, he held her eyes as he loomed over her, and they swallowed him whole.

“Take
me.”

Obeying her desperate demand, he thrust into her in one savage plunge, sheathing himself inside her tight heat to the hilt, hurtling home, his only home. Her scream felt as if it tore from her lungs, pure, excruciating pleasure, as his bellow had been. She arched up in a steep bow, seeking his possession, needing his urgency and ferocity, and he gave it to her. He withdrew all the way, then forged back even deeper, harder, the near impossible fit driving him out of his mind, until he’d built to a jackhammering rhythm with his full force behind it.

Too soon, her screams merged as she bucked beneath him...then shattered in convulsions that clamped her around him, wrenching at his length in a fit of release. He rode the breakers of her orgasm, withdrawing and plunging in a fury, feeding her frenzy until her screeches stifled and her heart accelerated beyond the danger zone, her tears pouring thickly.

“Come with me....”

Her sob broke him. He let go, buried himself to her womb, wished he could bury all of himself inside her, and surrendered to the most ferocious orgasm he’d ever known, jetting his essence into her depths in gush after agonizing gush, roaring his love, his worship.

“Ahebbek ya hayati, ya rohi...Jala, aabodek...”

Pleasure stormed through him, held him in a merciless vice for long minutes, then it suddenly unleashed its grip, let him breathe, unlocked his muscles. He collapsed over her, driving deeper into their merging.

When he had control over his body again, he withdrew to look down at her, and his heart swelled at the sight of the goddess she’d become. A soundly slumbering one right now. His lips shook on a smile of satisfaction. So he could still pleasure her into oblivion.

Gratitude swamped him again as he made his pledge to the fates. If he couldn’t have her love, he’d wallow in her desire, fulfill her every need, lavish all his love and trust and honor on her. He’d keep her hungrier for more still, do anything to keep her beside him.

Until he made her love him. For real. And forever.

* * *

Jala jerked out of a place of total darkness and bliss to the sight of Mohab over her, the feel of him inside her.

His weight felt like the gravity holding her universe together. The universe that had spun out of control when he’d told her he’d leave and she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

The eruption of despair had overwhelmed her. She’d pushed him away, thinking she’d been defending herself, saving her sanity. But the idea of losing him again and forever had torn aside inhibitions, rationality, even survival. She’d had to have him again, even if the cost was eternal misery. Nothing had changed, or would ever change. She would always need him beyond self-preservation. And she’d thrown herself into the heaven and hell of his arms again.