Page 29 of The Innocent Carrying His Legacy

CHAPTER SEVEN

HEREYESHADgone the most glorious shade of copper-gold and her body beneath his was so small and soft and warm. He had to be careful with her and the roundness where his child lay, but it was so very difficult to remember to be careful. So very difficult when she was beneath him and he could see how passionate she was, so much emotion hidden beneath her spiky, prickly surface. So much hunger, too; he could see that clearly on her face.

He shouldn’t have kissed her. That had been a mistake, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself and, since she hadn’t stopped him either, he’d simply taken it. And she’d tasted glorious, hot and sweet and like everything he’d been forbidden when he was young. Everything he’d forbidden himself as an adult.

So why couldn’t he have it now? He’d never had enough warmth, never enough softness. He’d never had enough sweetness, either. He’d denied himself for a long time, not wanting to rouse the deep passions that he knew lay within himself. Passions that were dangerous. Yet he’d had years of experience now at controlling himself, so why shouldn’t he let them out? And this woman wasn’t someone else’s, the way his mother had always been someone else’s. This woman was his and his alone.

She was challenging, exciting. He’d thought her fragile and not suited to the desert initially, but maybe he’d been wrong to think that way. She certainly had a will that wasn’t fragile, that might even be strong enough to match his own, and right now he couldn’t think of a single reason not to take her. Especially when she was clearly as hungry as he was.

She was shaking and breathing very fast, her small hands pressed to his chest. Her eyes were wide and fixed to his, glittering with desire and an obvious desperation that made something catch hard in his chest. That made him wonder where such desperation had come from and why, and who it was that had left her so hungry.

‘Yes,’ she said huskily. ‘I do want you.’ Her fingers curled in his T-shirt. ‘Please...oh, please...’

Did she know what she was asking for? What she was desperate for? Perhaps she didn’t; that kiss of hers had been inexperienced, after all. Not that it mattered, since he’d already decided that he’d have her, and if it hadn’t been her kiss that had convinced him, certainly the way she clutched him, begged him, all that desperate hunger in her eyes had.

Someone had neglected her, someone hadn’t given her what she needed, and so since he’d laid claim to her, he would. He’d show her exactly what she was so desperate for.

It’s not just sex and you know it.

Oh, yes, he was well aware. There was a familiarity to her hunger that made something echo inside his own soul, that made him think of long ago when he’d been a boy, watching his mother hug his half-brother. His half-brother who got all the love and the warmth and the softness, while Nazir got nothing but bare earth and rocks, the long hard marches in the depths of the night and his father’s cold, harsh attention.

He knew what it was like to want more than that. To want more and never get it.

Well, he would have it now.

‘Do you want me to take you?’ he asked roughly, watching the flush sweep up her slender neck and over her delicate features. ‘Right here? Right now?’

‘Yes...no...’ She took a shuddering breath, shifting restlessly beneath him as if she was trying to get even closer, making him curse under his breath as the soft heat between her thighs pressed against his aching shaft. ‘I don’t know... Oh...’ Her fingers spread out on his chest, kneading him like a little cat. ‘You’re...you’re so warm, Mr Al Rasul,’ she murmured as if this were the greatest discovery. ‘And... I’m so cold.’

The soft words made the constriction in his chest get even tighter. Why was she cold? It made no sense, not with all this heat they were generating between them. And she wasn’t cold herself, no, she was like a shard of desert sun, bright, searing and hot. Ready to burn.

He shifted on her, so his weight wasn’t crushing her. ‘My name is Nazir. Say it.’

‘N-Nazir...’

The sound was husky and sweet, making every muscle in his body clench in sudden and intense need.

He bent and brushed his mouth over hers, settling himself more fully between her thighs, pressing the hard length of his sex into all that damp heat. She gasped and arched beneath him, her hips lifting against his, her fingers curling into his T-shirt. He nuzzled her jaw and then kissed his way down her throat, tasting the soft hollow where her pulse beat frantically beneath her silky skin.

She was so responsive, lifting her chin to allow him access, a soft little moan escaping as he pressed his mouth there and then his tongue. He’d never wanted to linger over the taste of a woman’s skin, but he could see the appeal now. He could strip her bare, lay her out, lick every sweet inch of her body... Not yet, though. She was restless and desperate, and it was driving the same desperation in him, and he had to be careful. Gentleness wasn’t something he was familiar with, but gentleness was what she needed because, after all, she was pregnant and delicate and breakable.

It would be like disarming the mines on one of his father’s training operations when he’d been dropped into an old minefield in the south and had to find his way across in order to escape. He’d had to go carefully, watching every footstep, and what he hadn’t been able to avoid, he’d had to disarm, manipulating the mechanisms with slow, patient care.

Yes, he could do that with Ivy. Except he didn’t want to disarm her. He wanted her to explode.

He bit the side of her neck carefully, making her shudder, then moved on over to the soft swell of her breasts. The fabric of her T-shirt was thin, revealing the rapidly hardening outline of her nipples, and he took one in his mouth, sucking on her through the material. She gave a soft cry, writhing beneath him, the movements of her hips against his aching groin sending sharp bolts of pleasure through him, making him want to hold her down, take her fast and hard.

He ignored the urge. She was a mine, an unexploded bomb, and needed care, not roughness and impatience.

He sucked harder on her at the same time as he pushed a hand down between her thighs, cupping her through the stretchy material of her yoga pants.

She trembled and when his thumb brushed over the sensitive little bud between her legs, she trembled even harder. Lifting his head from her breast, he looked down into her flushed face, watching her response as he slowly brushed his thumb back and forth and then around, giving her the friction she needed, feeling the place where his hand lay get hotter and wetter.

Her eyes fluttered closed, long, silky lashes lying on her rosy cheeks. ‘Oh...yes...’ The words came out on a sigh. ‘Oh... N-Nazir...’

Hot little woman. Desperate little woman. He wanted to give her what she needed. He wanted to be theonlyone who could give her what she needed.

The possessiveness that lay at his heart surged up inside him and he shifted again, ripping away her yoga pants and underwear, baring her for his touch. Then he slid his hand between her thighs once again, his finger stroking over slick, slippery flesh. She cried out, gripping onto his shoulders, twisting under him, and he wanted to kiss her, to taste those cries of pleasure for himself, and yet he wanted to watch her too. He wanted to see what kind of passion he could unleash in her, because there was already so much of it. And he wanted it all for himself.

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