Page 14 of Desert King's Forbidden Temptation

Her eyes fluttered shut but she stayed where she was, dangerously, tantalisingly close. And then, of its own volition, his hand lifted, finding a stray clump of dark hair and tucking it behind her ear.

‘Your Highness.’ Now her voice shook a little. ‘Stop.’ But she whispered the last word, and if anything, swayed forward, so their bodies touched and electricity arced frantically around the room, lightning striking in response to the physical contact. ‘We can’t—’

‘No,’ he agreed, not moving. ‘We can’t.’ His hand dropped to her chin. He’d meant to pull his hand away, but it sought her flesh, desperate to touch, to feel her skin for himself, and it was every bit as soft as he’d predicted. Like a rose petal on a dewy morning. He bit back a curse.

She lifted her face to his, and his hand moved, not down, as he’d intended, but higher, so he could trace the outline of her lower lip. Her breath released in a shuddering exhalation, and then her teeth pressed to her lip, her eyes clinging to his, swirling with a need he well understood—it was the same need rocking him to his foundations.

‘It’s crazy,’ she whispered, eyes huge, but still she stayed where she was.

She was exactly right. He felt temporarily insane, made so by the depth of physical desire flushing his system.

‘I intend to marry her,’ he said, as if to agree with Eloise.

The colour drained from her cheeks and she blinked at him, as if the words didn’t make sense.

‘And yet,’ he muttered, hating himself, hating her too, just because something about her was capable of making him want things he absolutely shouldn’t.

‘Your Highness,’ she whispered plaintively.

‘Perhaps you should call me Tariq.’

She shook her head, dislodging his thumb. His hand dropped to their sides, and captured hers, fingers weaving together.

‘I can’t. That’s too...real.’

He understood. They were in an alternate reality, or at least one adjacent to the real world, but boundaries still mattered.

‘I’ve never met anyone like you,’ she said, and something ancient and primal soared in his chest. ‘I don’t usually feel...’

‘What do you feel?’ he asked, frustrated, when she trailed off into nothing.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

His pulse slammed through his body. ‘I want to kiss you.’

She groaned, shook her head slightly, but then, she was lifting up onto the tips of her toes, her mouth a mere inch from his. ‘This is so wrong.’

She was right. It was crazy and wrong and also utterly unavoidable. Being alone with her made this inevitable—perhaps they should have realised that before now and avoided a situation like this. But they were here, and it was impossible to think they’d be interrupted. Not here, not now.

‘Do you want me to stop this?’

Her smile was sardonic. ‘Do you think you can?’

His eyes flared at her acknowledgement. She too felt the inevitability of this. ‘No.’ And he dropped his mouth then, closing the distance and kissing her as though his life depended on it. She tasted like coffee and almond essence, and he plundered her mouth desperately, seeking more of her, all of her. His hand lifted to the back of her head, cradling her, so he could steady her for his thorough inspection, his tongue flicking hers at first before taking complete control of her mouth, revealing every part of her for his delight. His body was so much bigger than hers, he felt he practically enveloped her as they stood like that, her own slight curves moulded to his frame, her breasts softly crushed to his torso, so he growled into her mouth, his free hand lifting to stroke the side of her stomach before moving higher, his fingers finding the underside of her breast and running over it possessively, hungrily. There was nothing languorous about his touch; he needed her with a ferocity that could have terrified him, and his kiss was a signal of that.

She kissed him back with the same fervent need though, her breathing frantic, her body writhing against his, as if trying tofeelmore of him than their clothes allowed.

He swore, desperate for more, reaching down and finding the expansive fabric of her skirt, pulling it up, and up and up, over her legs, until he held it bunched in his hands and he could reach around and cup the silk of her underpants, pushing her against his rock-hard arousal.

She whimpered into his mouth as she rolled her hips, and he took her lead, pushing himself against her, thrusting as if he could somehow miraculously be inside her moist warmth. He swore once more, and the hand that was cupping her buttocks moved between her legs, pushing aside her underpants so he could press a finger to her sex before striking inside of her.

She cried out, breaking their kiss only so she could drop her head backwards, her face scrunched with pleasure as her tight, moist muscles spasmed around him, gripping him so tight it was impossible for a little seed not to spill from him in response to these sensations.

‘I want you,’ he growled, stating the obvious, moving his mouth to her throat and sucking the flesh there, while his fingers moved between her legs and her voice grew higher in pitch and far more urgent. ‘I know this is wrong and we will both regret it, but I cannot tell you how much I don’t care right now. Say you want me too.’

He didn’t need her to say it. He couldfeelit. He knew it with every cell in his body, and yet he wanted her to admit as much, to speak the words. Too much was at stake for both of them, for him to follow his instincts alone.

Her crescendo was building, fiercely wrapping around them, so he rode the wave with her, sucking her neck as he drove her over the edge of pleasure, her orgasm fierce and intense, her muscles convulsing around his fingers, her voice heavy in the air. He held her tight, his arousal desperately seeking entrance, needing her, needing to get this out of his system so he could return from the brink of insanity. He pulled his hand away purely so he could remove his clothes but in doing so, something between them shifted and she lifted her hands to her mouth, staring at him as though seeing him for the first time.

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