"I completely understand how such an offer could frighten you, Khalid." Her tone was as gentle as a Southern rainfall, and yet as cutting as ice. "After all, I do believe such things are against club rules, aren't they? The member himself chooses his third. Perhaps I should stick with a lover with a tad more possessiveness."
He almost laughed in surprise. The little wench had managed to turn this around on him and leave him scrambling to find his balance.
"Fear is not quite the emotion I would attribute to what I'm feeling at the moment." He let his gaze rake over her, remembering in exact detail how she had looked glistening beneath the sun, as she lay by the pool's edge.
He watched her flush and saw the innocence, despite the knowledge in her gray eyes. She was self-aware, independent, and, her father swore, willful. But she wasn't a woman who shared herself easily; he rather doubted she had shared herself at all. Yet here she stood, daring him to take her, challenging him with those quicksilver eyes of hers and that damned mocking smile.
They had been playing this game for ages, it seemed. The thrust and parry, the challenge and retreat had gone on so long that he had nearly given in more than once. Until he had learned that she was investigating him.
Did she know, he wondered, how he had missed the flirting, the teasing, the choice that had been taken from him when he'd learned he was a suspected enemy of his country?
There had been nights when he had thought of nothing more than touching her, than filling her eyes with knowledge rather than curiosity, with lust rather than innocence.
The nights he had nearly broken down, had prayed that his past was that, in the past, and that he could reach out for her.
It was that past that held him back. The knowledge of the horror and the blood that could so easily repeat itself. Yet still, he longed for her with a hunger that was nearly impossible to resist.
She had been built for touch, for pleasure. Her sweetly compact body, the full, high br**sts, and the gentle curve of her h*ps were God's gift to any man who set eyes on her. She was beautiful in ways that other women could only hope to be.
From her button nose and pouty lips to her determined chin and stubborn expression, he could see the willful, independent little minx she was. But her eyes. Those eyes truly were the windows to her soul. If the look in them was any indication, then he knew she would burn him alive.
He let his gaze travel over the delicacy of her body once again. He wondered if her skin was as soft as it appeared, if her ni**les tasted as sweet as they looked?
His entire body clenched at the thought, while his c**k throbbed in heated anticipation. He could touch her, he thought. He could taste the sweetness of her and still pull back, he could still walk away.
He'd never intended to develop more with her than a very close friendship. A friendship that would allow him to share her with whichever lover she eventually chose. If she ever chose one. He'd be damned if he wasn't getting tired of waiting. Of wondering.
"Tell me, are you still a virgin?" He couldn't hold back the question, the need to know. Just as he couldn't hold back the desire that tormented him.
"Are you?" Anger shimmered in her tone, in her gaze. Better the anger than the invitation that glimmered in her eyes moments before.
"I? A virgin?" He grinned at that thought. "Sweetheart, I was born sexually aware. I don't believe I've ever been a virgin."
Of course, that wasn't exactly true, but he loved seeing her eyes narrow with interest and disdain. It made her all the more tempting, made anticipation burn through his loins as he considered all the ways he could touch her, challenge her, be challenged by her.
There was something about her that made him wary, made him fear the man he would be when he touched her. But on the flip side of that coin was the knowledge that inside this woman burned the soul of a sensualist--a lover who would meet him, match him. One who could burn down the night with him. For a while. If he could keep her safe long enough to learn all the intriguing secrets that shadowed her eyes.
"Yes, I also sincerely doubt you were ever a virgin." She gave a soft, ladylike snort at the very thought of it. "That doesn't mean it's any of your business if I'm one or not."
His brow arched at the challenge in her tone. Damn! She could make him harder faster than any woman he had ever known in his life.
"I don't know about that," he murmured, his gaze flicking over her. "When I push my fingers up your tight little pu**y, I'd like to know if I should go hard and deep, or if I should merely tease and save such a delicacy for my c**k to taste."
Before he finished, her face was flushing a brilliant hue, but her gray eyes were filling with arousal. He would bet his trust fund her pu**y was silky wet now, slick and sweet, as her juices spilled from her.
The thought of it had his mouth watering for a taste of her before his common sense could reassert itself. He could easily go to his knees before her, spread her legs, and feast on the soft, silky flesh. She was na**d beneath that robe. Her pu**y was bare, waxed of the curls that would have shielded it. It would be sensitive to his touch, to his lips and tongue.
He could taste her, just for a moment. Just a moment wouldn't endanger her, surely.
"You're joking," she breathed out, her voice rough, her hands shaking as one lifted from the robe to swipe at the strands of dark blond hair that fell from the clip atop her head. She seriously believed he wasn't serious. He could see it in her eyes.
"Joking?" He tilted his head and watched her curiously. "Because I want to f**k you? Precious, there is no joke in the least in such a desire. The thought of touching you, of having your sweet flesh suck my c**k inside you is enough to make me weak in the knees. I never said I didn't want you. I said it would not be wise to give in to such desires."
Her smile was scoffing. "It's not nice to tease like this, Khalid. What happened? Did you lose your little black book? Need a little entertainment to fill in the few minutes before my father's return?"
She watched the grin that tugged at his lips. She had never seen Khalid smile fully, she realized. A tug of amusement at the corner of his lips, a little quirk of a crooked smile, but never a true smile.
"As I'm certain you're aware, I'm never at a loss for playmates," he assured her, as amusement shone in his eyes.
Marty breathed in, slow and easy, fighting the dark fear that wanted to take hold of her as she saw the pure need that filled his eyes.