The Sheik's Secret Bride (24 page)

His words echoed in her brain. “What is done to the Crown Prince is done to each citizen.” Which meant
Malik’s
humiliation was also theirs. Would he be humiliated if she left him? Would her legacy be as brief and painful as
Iman’s
?

She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to know that she had the power to hurt him. But she couldn’t escape the reality of what telling her about his past had cost him.
Malik
was a proud man and he’d laid open his shame at her request.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said at last. “I appreciate knowing the truth and I promise to honor your confidence.”

He dismissed her with a flick of his wrist. “Even the street cleaners know the truth. There is no confidence to keep.”

She told herself he felt embarrassed by his past and that was why he treated her so casually.

“You asked me once what I learned from my first marriage,” he said. “I’m grateful I never loved her.”

His pain was so clear to
her,
she could have traced the still bleeding soul wounds. She saw the child who had been thrust into a frighteningly adult world and left to survive without comfort or affection. She saw a young man coming to terms with his sexuality in full view of an interested nation. She saw a husband who, despite his claims to the contrary, must have secretly hoped for someone to finally love him and share the burden of his office only to find himself rejected and then humiliated by his new wife. She saw a determined leader—a lion of the desert—alone.
Untouched by kindness or love.

Without considering the consequences of her actions, she rose to her feet and crossed to stand in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him and rose on tiptoe to kiss him.

He grabbed her upper arms and thrust her away from him. “I don’t want your pity,” he growled, his eyebrows drawn together, his mouth a straight line.

Despite his obvious irritation, she smiled. “
Malik
, you inspire many emotions in me—mostly anger and frustration. I promise
,
I’ve never once felt pity.”

“Then why do you come to me now, after I’ve told you about the whore who was my wife?”

She slid her hands under his jacket and again pressed a kiss to his forbidding mouth.
“Because you’re finally more man than prince.
While the prince is scary and annoying, the man is very appealing. I would like to kiss him before he changes back.”

His expression softened and he placed his hands on her waist. “I’m not annoying. I’m considered charming and an enjoyable companion.”

“Yeah, right.”
She gazed into his eyes and watched the first flickering flame ignite. “So, do you want to talk all night or could I interest you in something a little more physical?”

Dark eyebrows
raised
slightly. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Absolutely.”

Malika
knew that making love with Liana again would be a mistake. While he kept Liana at a distance, he knew that he was safe. But if he allowed himself to touch her again, to be with her, to claim her, then he knew that he would be forced to expose himself in ways he never had before. And once he’d allowed the light of Liana inside himself, he could never again be content to survive in emotional darkness.

So, even as her mouth pressed against his and he felt himself growing aroused and ready, he resisted. If he held some part of himself back from her, he thought he might be able to contain his growing need. If he could channel the energy and make it all about sex, they would both survive.

Yet, even as he attempted to hold himself apart, to keep his mind clear and his touch impersonal, he felt the fire growing. It burned through his reserve, melting the edges of his being until they blurred and connected with the wonder that was Liana.

He cupped her face,
then
moved his hands to her hair. He unpinned her tiara,
then
freed the long strands from her elegant hairstyle.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmured as he kissed her soft cheeks, then her mouth. She tasted sweet and hot. Her lips welcomed him with nipping kisses, her tongue stroked against his, making it impossible for him to maintain his distance.

“I was terrified,” she whispered between kisses.
“All those people staring and waiting for me to say or do something wrong.”

“No.” He raked his fingers through her long hair and kneaded her scalp. “They were watching because they were envious. All the women admired you and all the men wanted you. Tonight when they make love with their wives, they’ll imagine you in their beds.”

She drew back and looked at him—her blue eyes were bright with a combination of passion and laughter. “I don’t think so. I’m willing to admit that I clean up pretty good, and the dress was amazing, but I was just—”

He claimed her mouth to silence her. He plunged his tongue inside her, relearning the secrets of her mouth, her taste, her heat. He pulled her closer and she trembled in his embrace.

“You were everything,” he breathed.
“Perfect and lovely.
You are my wife.”

He felt her shiver. “
Malik
, do you have any idea what you do to me?”

He knew because he felt the same uncontrolled passion growing inside himself. As much as he wanted to jerk up her dress and sink himself into her right now, he wanted to make it last between them forever. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her body. He wanted to lick her all over,
then
have her do the same to him. He wanted to dip his tongue into her waiting heat and have her take him in her mouth,
then
he wanted to be on top of her, plunging home, claiming her, marking her. He wanted to spill his seed in her again and again until her body had forgotten what it was like to be with any man but him. He wanted to brand her with his kisses and his touch until she existed only for him—as he would exist only for her.

He kissed her mouth,
then
moved lower—trailing a damp path down her throat and onto her chest. The sweet taste of her skin made him hungry for all of her. With fingers that weren’t as steady as they should have been, he lowered the zipper of her dress and pushed the velvet off her shoulders and down to her waist.

She wore a lacy bra that teased by hiding her tight nipples. He saw the puckered flesh pushing up against the fabric. Supporting her weight, he urged her back, until her breasts thrust up toward him. He leaned over her and took one nipple between his teeth. He gently moved back and forth, making her skin harden and her breath come in short gasps.

“
Malik
,” she sighed, holding on to his shoulders. “You’re making me crazy.”

“Good.”

He brought her back to a standing position. Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed. He knelt at her feet and tugged off her dress, then had a little breathing trouble of his own when he realized she wore a garter belt and stockings. He swallowed hard and ignored the pressure between his legs. A voice in his head screamed for him to take her now, to free himself and plunge into her, carrying them both to paradise. Instead he forced himself to gently tug off her panties, leaving her in stockings and a bra. Then he drew her to the sofa and had her sit.

Kneeling before her, he kissed her deeply. She hugged him, making it easy for him to unfasten her bra. When the garment fell away, he studied her rounded breasts and the pattern of veins under pale skin.

“So lovely,” he murmured as he began to explore the curves.

He cupped her fullness,
then
stroked the exquisitely soft undersides. With his tongue, he flicked against her nipples, touching quickly and lightly, making her gasp. He tasted the sweet valley between the curves and licked all of her.

She squirmed and spoke his name and buried her fingers in his hair. Her hips moved, shifting closer until her heat pressed against his need and she began to rub up and down, driving them both to the edge. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he dipped lower, kissing her ribs, her belly and the hot skin of her thighs. Only when he felt her shudder did he part the protective folds of her feminine place and love her there.

She was already so hot and wet that he knew she wouldn’t last long. He found the one tiny spot that made her cry out. With his lips and tongue, he circled and stroked, his steady rhythm matching the tightening of her leg muscles. He used one of his hands to dip inside her, pushing up so he touched that most sacred place from above and below. With his other hand, he reached up to cup her breast.

Heat radiated from her as if she suffered from an intense fever. Perhaps she did. She was a wildly sexual creature—untamed and magnificent in bed. When she drew her knees back to urge him on, he moved more quickly and thrust his finger deeper. Her breath caught, then stilled and he knew that it was her time. He focused all his considerable attention on the messages of her body, willing her to experience the ultimate release in the most perfect way possible.

She cried out and convulsed into spasms. Her strong internal muscles, her legs, her stomach all flexed and released with thousands of pulses. He continued to touch her, lighter and lighter, drawing out every second until she was spent and still.

He looked up and saw that a flush covered her from her breasts to her hairline. Her gaze met his, and he saw the tears in her eyes. For a second, fear gripped him, but then he knew. Her release had been so complete that she’d lost control in more ways than one.

“No one has ever made me feel like that before,” she whispered. “Not ever.”

He had known he had to be strong—to stay away from her or he would be lost. Yet it was too late. With Liana, most especially in her arms, he was just a man like so many others.
Human—imperfect—alive.
When he was with her he could succumb to the allure of her body and forget himself. He knew the truth. He’d seen the darkness that awaited him, but for these few moments he could pretend.

He wanted to tell her that if she left him, there would be nothing for him but dust and blackness. Yet he would not speak the words because she would never understand. So instead of responding, he simply moved closer. And when her hands reached for his trousers and unfastened them, he allowed her to pull him free.

Her fingers were small yet sure. She stroked him to a state of readiness that made him grit his teeth.

“I want you,” she breathed as she kissed him.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to the edge of the sofa. Her legs parted, and she welcomed him as he slipped home.

“Be with me,” she whispered.
“In me.
Let me make you feel all the things I felt when you touched me.”

They danced as lovers have danced for thousands of years. He let himself fill her, savoring her damp heat and the sensation of finally being home.

When he began to move, she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close. She was tight and the friction made it impossible for him to hold back. He moved faster and faster, losing himself in the passion. She clung and her breathing increased in speed.

“I can’t believe it,” she gasped, straining to get closer. “It’s happening again.
Malik
, please.
Don’t stop. Do it harder. Take me.”

The words were wrenched from her, guttural, as if they’d escaped against her will. She aroused him to a feverous pitch, yet he held back, restraining his own release until he felt the first rush of her body’s rippling as release overtook her. Then he cried out into the night and poured himself into her.

The sensation ripped through him like a sword, tearing him into pieces, destroying his thin veneer of civilization, making him savage and greedy. He pressed in hard and deep, claiming her, joining with her until he truly couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

Consciousness faded. There was only the moment and the feelings and the woman who offered him a haven. He held on to her, needing her close, breathing in her scent, her sounds, her heat, knowing that when they finally separated he would feel as if he’d lost a piece of himself.

Stay, he thought frantically even as she leaned back against the sofa and smiled at him. Stay with me because I will not survive without you.

But he didn’t say the words. He barely acknowledged that he thought them. For reasons he didn’t understand, she was the one. He would do anything to keep her. Somehow he must find the secrets necessary to bind her to him forever.

Fatima
was right. He had to make Liana fall in love with him.

Liana got out of bed in time to see her daughter off to school, then tumbled back onto her mattress where she slept until after nine. When she awoke for the second time, it was to a room full of bright sunshine and a sense of well-being unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

It wasn’t just that she and
Malik
had made love the night before…and again in the quiet hours that preceded dawn before he’d left her room to return to his own quarters. She was willing to admit that some of her happiness came from her body’s physical contentment, but there was something else going on. When she’d been in
Malik’s
arms, she’d felt a true connection. As if all the talk about being joined as one person finally made sense. While he held her and they made love, it was as if she could see into his very soul.