Nan Ryan (27 page)

Temple shuddered, but she pushed on his chest, fighting to maintain some semblance of composure. It was a losing battle, and she knew it. There was about this man something intoxicating, something magnetic, something powerfully primitive that made him utterly irresistible. He effortlessly awakened in her a strong desire she was unable to control and afraid to reveal. From the very beginning she had fought her strangely overwhelming attraction to him; had known instinctively that he had the power to make her do things no one else could. It was all that and more. He had, inexplicably, touched something in her no other ever had.

Her eyes closing with a mixture of defeat and desire, Temple murmured his name on a sigh, “Sharif … no … Sharif.”

“Chérie
,” he replied in a low, gentle whisper, and his words warmed the blood in her veins when he said, “I want you so badly. Please,
chérie
, want me even half as much as I want you.”

“Oh, God,” she breathed, “I do. I do want you.”

He kissed her then, and any traces of lingering doubt or resistance were kissed away by his warm, demanding mouth. Temple’s head fell back as her whole body arched into his embrace and her eyelids drifted closed with pleasure. He nudged her trembling lips apart with his tongue. Their teeth touched, then her mouth opened. His tongue ran over her teeth, caressed her lips, teased and taunted her. He sucked her full bottom lip into his mouth, bit it playfully, and breathed hotly into her mouth.

She sighed and trembled against him. Sharif deepened the kiss, and his tongue felt like slick wet fire as it probed the inner recesses of her mouth. Temple stood there, arching eagerly against him, acutely aware of the heat and hardness of him, thrilling to the pressure of every muscle and sinew in his solid length. Her head thrown back, her mouth open wide to his burning kisses, she melted against him.

And when, his passion-hardened lips never leaving hers, Sharif began deftly to flip open the tiny hooks going down the back of her black lace evening gown, she simply sighed her approval.

In seconds he was removing the dress, drawing the long lace sleeves down her slender arms and pushing the bodice to her waist. When the gown snagged on her flared hips, he lost patience. He yanked on the fragile fabric, and the dress slithered over her hips. He pushed it down her thighs and released it, allowing it to fall past her stockinged knees to the thick rug below.

Sharif put his hands to her waist, lifted her free of the lace garment, kicked it aside, and lowered her slowly back to her feet. Then for a long moment he held her at arm’s length to look at her, and Temple realized with mild surprise that she was now wearing only the skimpy satin-and-lace black drawers, the sheer black stockings, and high-heeled black satin slippers.

She didn’t care.

She stood there, unflinching, rooted to the spot, staring at him staring at her. A fresh infusion of heat brightened his night black eyes, and he slowly drew her back into his arms.

His hands slipping around her, he again held her in his close embrace and kissed her hungrily. Temple sighed, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back greedily, pressing herself against him, yearning to dissolve into him.

It was strangely thrilling to be nearly naked in Sharif’s long arms while he was fully clothed. The narrow symmetric pleats of his black dress shirt teased and tickled her erect nipples, and the black pearl studs going down the shirt’s front bit into her tender flesh. The fabric of his tuxedo trousers was pleasingly rough against her bare thighs and stockinged legs.

Sinuously she rubbed herself against him, catlike, while he kissed her and ran his hands over her bare shoulders and pale back and satin-and-lace covered hips. Momentarily Temple tore her lips from his and pulled back a little. Suddenly dying to feel her bare flesh against his bare flesh, she pulled the black pearl studs from his shirtfront, cast them to the rug as if they were worthless, shoved his shirt apart, and entwined her fingers in the thick, crisp hair covering his broad chest.

While his breath grew ragged and his hands danced along her shoulders, Temple pressed openmouthed kisses to his bronzed throat, scraped her nails down his naked torso, then clasped his ribs and pressed herself to him. Both sighed and shuddered as her soft, warm breasts flattened against his hard chest and her diamond-hard nipples stabbed into him. Shivering from the delicious feel of the crisp hair and muscled strength beneath, Temple shamelessly rubbed herself back and forth, up and down, against him as she lifted her mouth for his searing kiss.

Sharif cradled her head in his hand while she kissed him hotly, starvingly, as he had kissed her a moment ago. Her silky tongue’s caress, as it boldly searched his mouth, drove him half mad with desire and need. Her honeyed lips and the unbearably erotic undulating of her half-naked body were arousing him to a height of passion that made him want to love her in ways that she might not allow.

His mouth stayed fused with hers as his hands moved down to settle on her hips. Assisting, showing her how to undulate even more sensuously against him, he filled his hands with the twin cheeks of her bottom. Then, gently controlling and guiding her movements, he demonstrated with the languid roll and intimate thrust of own trousered pelvis.

Instantly she caught on.

And for a brief enjoyable interlude they stood there, lustfully hunching and sliding and rocking and slithering against each other in an erotic prelude to total lovemaking.

Dizzy with desire, Temple blinked in surprise when Sharif turned her about and gently sat her down on the edge of his bed. He cupped her face in his hands and stood before her, looking down into her eyes.

“I must have you,
Naksedil,”
he told her in low, husky voice. “Let me make love to you in every way a man can love a woman.” His thumb skimmed back and forth over her parted lips, and he added, “Yield to me, Temple. Let me show you all the myriad pleasures of loving.”

Before she could speak he lowered his face to hers and kissed her with heart-stopping tenderness. As he kissed her, Sharif sat down on the bed beside her, put a stiffened arm on the mattress, and slowly lay back across it, bringing Temple with him. He took her slender arms and drew them up around his neck as he turned her onto her back and continued to kiss her.

On fire, her heart racing in her naked breasts, she slanted her lips across his and drew his mouth more fully to hers, eager for him to deepen the kiss. He did. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she sucked at it as her passions rose and her inhibitions lowered.

His marvelous mouth conquering hers, Sharif worked with deft, sure fingers to sweep away her satin-and-lace underwear, leaving her naked save for the sheer black stockings and black slippers. Temple squirmed with pleasure and sighed into his mouth. Beneath her bare, yearning body, the black counterpane felt even more wonderful than she had imagined. The stark contrast between hot burning skin and cool slick silk was incredibly sensual.

Sharif’s searing mouth finally left hers, moved to her throat. Temple’s weak arms fell away from him when his open mouth warmly surrounded the black pearl she had forgotten still hung suspended from a black velvet ribbon circling her neck. When his tongue pressed the pearl into the hollow of her throat, Temple smiled foolishly and swept her open palms over the pleasingly smooth texture of the shimmering black silk bedspread.

Her eyes closed in pleasure, she felt Sharif’s tongue sweep aside the pearl and flick across her throat, a touch that was so delicate yet so intense, it made her gasp. Her eyes fluttered open when slowly, surely, he kissed a path downward until his tongue swirled around her breast. She gripped his hair and writhed in wild abandon as his mouth moved over the desire-swollen nipple, his teeth grazing it, nibbling, tormenting her sweetly.

Sharif shifted, sliding slowly toward the edge of the mattress, his mouth never leaving Temple’s flesh. Responding totally, helplessly, she gave herself over to the fiery pulse now beating inside her, growing hotter and stronger as his lips skimmed over her fluttering stomach. Her breath came out in a rush of increased excitement when his warm lips drifted to her navel, his tongue probing and flicking with slow, sensuous strokes that she could somehow feel in each aching breast and between her closed legs.

Temple couldn’t lie still.

She writhed and wiggled sinuously upon the slippery black silk bedspread, needing its soothing coolness to counterbalance the raging fever of her body. Sharif’s mouth was spreading such incredible heat, she felt as if her temperature were rising rapidly to the danger point. And she was torn between the need to push him away and immerse herself in the counterpane’s soothing coolness and the even stronger desire to have him continue kissing her until she burst into flame.

Her burning body no longer belonged to her. It was his.
She
was his. And he could continue to feast on her for as long as he wanted. Without a word being spoken, she freely gave herself in sweet surrender to this dark, determined lover, and Sharif took that which was offered.

His lips moving softly down her silken belly, he slid from the bed and went down on his knees beside it. His dark face continuing to brush kisses to her lower belly, he felt the muscles jerking, jumping beneath the pale, flawless skin.

He raised his head, put his hands to Temple’s waist, and drew her up into a sitting position. He sank back on the floor before her and pressed a kiss to her stockinged left knee. Her heart beating wildly, she looked into his smoldering black eyes and read the message there as clearly as if he had issued an order. “Sharif,” she murmured breathlessly.

“Yes, Temple. Yes.”

Her thighs opened to him. He held her gaze as his fingers curled around the back of a stocking-clad knee. He lifted her leg over his head as he smoothly ducked underneath. Then he was directly between her parted legs. Temple shivered and found herself suddenly plagued with a touch of embarrassed modesty. Her hands automatically flew down to cover herself, and she blushed.

Sharif’s hand lifted to her flaming face. He touched her cheek and said, “No,
chérie
, do not hide yourself from me.” His hand moved down her body, pausing briefly to cup a bare breast, then brushed across her trembling belly and came to rest atop her hands. His lean fingers spreading to cover both her cupping hands, he said, “I want to kiss you here where you love me.”

He took his hand away then, leaned down, and kissed her protective fingers. Biting the fragile knuckles with harmless little nips, he said, “Let me taste you. Move your hands,
chérie
. For me.”

Shocked, but at the same time almost unbearably thrilled, she whispered, “Yes. For you, Sharif, only for you.”

And she took her shaking hands away and placed them on the mattress’s edge, leaving herself exposed and vulnerable.

His bronzed hand returned to the tempting golden triangle, his long tapered fingers gently parting the curls and the slick flesh beneath. When her eyes began to close and she started to sag back onto the bed, he said, “No,
chérie
. Watch me while I love you. Watch us together like this.”

And he bent his dark head to her, nuzzled his face in the crisp golden curls, and blew his hot breath upon her. A strangled moan broke from her tight throat. Withholding that which would give her instant ecstasy and release, Sharif let his lips travel tormentingly up and down the warm insides of her bare thighs atop her sheer black stockings.

Temple moaned and shuddered and turned her head from side to side. Her hands gripping the mattress’s edge, she breathed through her mouth in short little pants, feeling as if she couldn’t possibly stand one more second of this exciting torture. Her bare buttocks began to wiggle about on the silken bed as she instinctively thrust her pelvis up and forward.

When finally his lips touched her there, where she most wanted it, she cried out in a little sob of wonder and gratitude. She could not believe his tender touch. He was kissing her in that hottest of all spots, kissing her just as if he were tenderly kissing her mouth. His smooth, warm lips were closed as he pressed the sweetest of kisses to her scorching flesh. And then, at last, his lips opened upon her, enclosing her, caressing her.

It was the most incredible pleasure.

Temple couldn’t believe they were really doing this. She couldn’t believe what Sharif was doing to her. She couldn’t believe what she was letting him to do. She could not believe that she was actually sitting on a fully made bed wearing nothing but the black pearl around her throat and black stockings and shoes, while he, fully dressed in evening clothes, was on the floor between her open legs, hotly kissing her in that most feminine of all places.

All at once it was as if she were outside herself, watching the two of them engage in this highly carnal act. As if she were watching some other couple, she could see herself perched naked on the edge of the black silken bed with her stockinged legs parted. She could see Sharif in his black dress shirt and tuxedo trousers sitting on his heels before her, his dark face buried between her trembling thighs.

It was appallingly shocking.

It was extraordinarily erotic.

It was absolutely wonderful!

Temple was spellbound—she was his slave as his hot face sank in her and his magical, flickering tongue swirled around and around that tiny throbbing bud that was the source of all her passion. Burning up now, feeling as if the entire universe were located between her legs and that his licking tongue was the hot radiant sun in that universe, she arched her back and thrust her pelvis forward as she sagged back helplessly onto her bent elbows.

His loving mouth never leaving her flaming flesh, Sharif put his hands beneath her buttocks, lifted her as he rose slowly to his knees, reached for one of the many black-covered pillows, and slid it under her hips. Her breath coming out in a strangled sigh, Temple fell over onto her back and watched through passion-glazed eyes as his dark face stayed buried between her elevated thighs and his tongue continued to send jolts of unbelievable pleasure through her.