Page 31 of Company of Thieves
He frowned as he thought about that, his hands stroking the lines of her hips, those delightful hips, on down to the curve of her ass. He loved her ass almost as much as the swell of her hips. “Was it lengthy? It didn’t seem unduly so to me.”
“It’s just longer than I am normally used to. Not that I’m complaining, because holy hasenpfeffer, you made me feel like I was made of fire. Needy fire.” She gave a little shiver that he took immense pride in. “I figured I ought to tell you that if you were doing it because you think I need a long warm-up, it’s not necessary. Just looking at you has my motor running, and I’ve never been one to take long to get to the fun zone.”
“I’m delighted to know both that you are aroused easily and that I don’t need to spend copious amounts of time pleasuring you, but I assure you that I don’t view a single second touching and tasting you as anything but the purest enjoyment.”
“OK. Just so you know that if you want to have a quickie now and again, I’m totally on board with that.”
“Thank you,” he said gravely, smiling into his mustache. “I will keep that in mind.”
“There is one other thing I feel merits discussion,” she said, one finger stroking his mustache. He made a mental note to shave it off, since ladies, he knew, preferred to be kissed without feeling like they were doing so with a hairbrush, as one former lover had once complained. “I want to talk about this harem of yours.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what harem, but then he remembered that he was Akbar, and Akbar was just the sort of man who had a harem stashed away back at his father’s palace. “You wish to join it? I don’t think you’d like the life, dove. You wouldn’t be able to learn to fight.”
She slapped a hand on his chest, her eyes narrowing on him, her expression decidedly disgruntled. Even her freckles looked annoyed with him. “No, I do not want to be a part of it. The very fact that you have one is disgusting, Alan. I realize we jumped into bed without knowing a lot about each other—”
“On the contrary,” he interrupted, his hands moving up her sides to where her breasts were pressed against his chest. “I knew a great deal about you before we engaged in sexual activity.”
“Like what?” she asked, clearly distracted.
“I knew you were passionate, intelligent, curious, had a desire for knowledge, gloried in your unconventionality, weren’t overly concerned by what others thought, and you had an overestimation of the quality of my body, specifically my ass. It’s just an ass, Hallie. It’s functional. It does what I need it to do. It is pleasant to sit upon. That’s it.”
She made a face and waved away his statement. “Your behind is beyond the range of mortal man and into the realm of godlike, but that’s not the point. And thank you for all those nice things you said about me. I like you, too. A lot. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to share you. Regardless of your insight into me, you clearly didn’t know that I’m not the sort of woman who shares her man. So I’m willing to be reasonable, and not rail at you now because you have a great big herd of who knows how many women at your home waiting for you to get back so they can do all sorts of things to you that I want to do, and instead tell you that you have a choice: You can have the herd, or me. But not both.”
He pretended to think about this, his fingers drawing symbols on her breasts, causing her to arch her back so that he could take them into his hands properly. “You will naturally honor the proprietary nature of the relationship, as well?” he asked, wanting to laugh and sing and kiss her until she lay panting.
“You mean I won’t have any other lovers than you? Of course. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“Very well,” he said after half a minute’s pretend thought, allowing a smidgen of faux reluctance to creep into his voice. “I will dismiss the harem so long as you remain a fixture in my bed.”
She looked disgruntled for a moment, then smiled, the warmth from it filling him with a sense of happiness that he realized had been missing from his life for some time. “I have a lot of things I want to learn, Alan. That might take a while.”
“And I have many things I wish to teach you,” he said with a little leer, his thumbs brushing her nipples.
She shivered again. “We have a deal, then?”
He had no idea why she felt like putting what was promising to be a very enjoyable relationship on such a businesslike term, but if it made her happy ... “We do.”
“Excellent.” She sat up, her legs astride his hips, his cock—now hard and desirous of attention—pressed against her thigh. “That means it’s my turn, and I get to seduce you.”
“I am all yours,” he said, watching with interest and no little amount of hope when she slid back onto his knees, and eyed his cock. She pursed her lips at it, frowning slightly.
“Why are you frowning at my cock?” He lifted his head to look down his body to where it stood at attention, clearly waiting for her to notice it. “Is something wrong with it?”
“No,” she said slowly, then nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. Dammit, he wanted to nibble on her lower lip. It wasn’t fair that she do so when she wasn’t within his reach so that he could stop her and take over the job.
To his immense surprise, she slid off him and padded naked over to the door that connected with Leila’s cabin. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
“What’s wrong?” he called after her, looking back at himself, and asking his cock, “What did you do?”
It bobbed at him, looking innocent of all wrongdoing.
“Aha! I thought I saw this when I was poking around your sister’s things.” Hallie returned, her hips swaying in a manner that made his mouth water, his hands twitch, and his cock harder than it had been a second before. She held up a small blue stoppered bottle. “Your sister evidently likes orange oil.”
“She uses it in her bath, I believe,” he said, watching as she retook her seat on his legs, pouring a little bit of oil onto her palm before replacing the stopper and then rubbing her hands together. “What is it you’re doing?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t know about massage oil?”
“No,” he said, the pleasant scent of oranges filling the cabin. “Is it something American?”
