Page 26 of The Sheikh's Temporary Girlfriend

“Then he’s on his own.” Literally. “And I can’t help him anymore.”

He gently plucked her empty glass from the death-grip of her hand, and put it onto the nearby table with his own. Then clasping either side of her head, he looked down at her and said, “Your selflessness only makes you more adorable, sunshine.”

“You’re pretty adorable yourself,” she admitted in a croaky voice.

With deft fingers he pulled the pins out of her hair that restrained it, then watched it fall with wild, frizzy abandon around her face and down her back. “You really are my sunshine,” he said reverently.

She might as well have been his stars and moon as well. No one had ever made her feel beautiful because of her hair. She’d mostly felt resigned to being born with such a frizzy mop that had a mind all of its own.

She shivered, all too aware she could easily love this man.

But none of that mattered right here, right now. All that mattered was getting closer to him. She was no longer scared to lose herself to him by being intimate; it was too late for that. She wanted to become his short-term lover and create memories she could hold onto for the rest of her life.

She pushed up onto her toes as he lowered his head, their mouths fusing together as one. Did he feel the crackle of electricity? He groaned against her lips. Perhaps he did. Then he swept his hands under her ass and lifted her against him. She wound her legs around his hips, her arms sliding around his nape as their kiss deepened.

She was only half-aware of him striding back inside of his suite of rooms, the automated lights switching on then back off again in their wake. He laid her onto his bed and followed her down. Only when he pulled his mouth away from hers did she ask huskily, “Is something wrong?”

He stroked back her hair, his eyes glowing. “I want to make sure this is what you want too. I don’t want you having any regrets.”

“Regrets?” She shook her head. “My only regret would be if we stopped now,” she admitted softly.

Chapter Twelve

He groaned then, the sound curling her toes even before his mouth slammed back onto hers and he kissed her mercilessly hard. He pulled back just long enough to drag off her nightgown while she fumbled with his pants and T-shirt. Thankfully he’d gone commando underneath, his cock long and hard as she brushed her fingers against it.

His breath hissed, his whole body shuddering in ecstasy at her touch. She inhaled sharply. If he was so sensitive to her brushing against him, what would he do if she clasped his shaft and dragged her hand up and down?

He reached between her thighs, zeroing in on her clit and deftly massaging. All thought ceased and she gasped as pleasure accosted her, burning through her nerve endings and heightening her pleasure a hundred fold. She writhed against him, then finally pulled her head back, his form above a blur as her senses honed in on his touch. “I-I can’t take much more,” she whimpered.

“Oh, but you will,” he countered silkily, his eyes flaming with volcanic intensity. “I want you to feel the explosion and see the fireworks. I want you to burn for me, sunshine.”

She was almost there already, her body sizzling and aroused to the point of no return—when he took away his hand and left her poised at the very edge. Her breath hissed out. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He reached into the drawer of his side table and extracted a foil. “Protection,” he said hoarsely, taking off its wrapper then and pulling on a condom with economical swiftness.

Her womb fluttered along with her pulse. Once again he was taking care of everything. She’d been so lost to passion she hadn’t even considered any future consequences.

He touched between her thighs again, this time with a gentle caress that climbed her straight back up to where she’d been left hanging. “So passionate,” he said with a smile that appeared to be as tortured as her body was for release.

He pushed a finger inside her and she moaned at the intimacy of it. When he pushed a second finger inside her, then withdrew most of the way out before plunging back inside again, she automatically counterthrusted against him.

“And so damn wet,” he growled. “You’ll need to be to take all of me inside.”

She stiffened, but he’d already guided his cock to her entrance, his eyes burning into hers. She waited, fear and adrenaline making her pulse surge. Then he slammed his cock inside her and her breath rushed out, his size brutal despite her body’s welcoming lubrication.

He paused, waiting for her inner muscles to adjust. “Tell me you’re okay?”

She fought back a grimace as she nodded, then gyrated against him. “Never. Better.”

He didn’t recognize her lie, of course he didn’t. His mind would be too busy fighting with his body, the strain of not rocking inside her showing in his every taut line, his every locked muscle. He nodded even as he withdrew from her partway, then surged back inside her.

She swallowed hard, caught between pleasure and pain, and he repeated the movement, driving into her harder and faster until he was nothing short of a pounding machine. Picking up one of her legs, he pushed it back, changing the angle of penetration.

It was enough for her to reach the peak, then abandon all sense of reality as she blasted high into the heavens, fireworks exploding all around her as she floated in orgasmic bliss, before freefalling back to Earth.

Basam cradled her with one arm as he stroked once, twice, then jerked hard inside her as he roared with what had to be a supernova release, his eyes rolling and his jaw clenching, his skin damp against her.

They were both breathing heavily when he collapsed over her, then rolled to his side, bringing her with him. They stayed that way for long, intangible minutes, then kissing her on the forehead, he withdrew from her and climbed out of bed to dispose of the condom.

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