Page 33 of Sheikh's Secret Love-Child

Her eyes were wide and glazed and her neck felt like it could hardly bear the weight of her own head. Her lips parted as if she wasn’t sure she could breathe and her hands had nothing to do but grip fistfuls of her dress.

It had been such a long time. It was almost as if this was new again: the way he stretched her, the way he filled her, the exquisite ache of his possession when he was finally fully settled inside her body.

Malak shifted then. He wrapped one arm around her and tilted her forward a little so that he moved even deeper within her.

And Shona felt it everywhere. Her toes. The tips of her ears.

“Go on then,” he ordered her, his dark green gaze as fierce as emeralds, burning her into a crisp through the reflection of the glass in front of them. “Show me who you are.”

And if there was the faintest shadow of some kind of argument inside her, she ignored it.

Shona began to move.

She tested the rotation of her hips. She rocked herself, forward and back, then in lazy circles.

She arched to dig her toes into the floor on either side of Malak’s legs, and used that as leverage to pull herself up, then slide back down the entire delectable length of him. Once, then again. And again, until they both groaned.

He reached out and found her hands, then laced his fingers with hers as he crossed their arms over her abdomen, together.

And still she rocked against him. She practiced her strokes, reacquainting herself with something she hadn’t realized she’d longed for, deep in the night, lost in dreams she’d pretended not to recall during the day.

Long and slow. Hard and fast.

His eyes blazed in the mirror. There was color high on those cheekbones of his, so sharp they made her feel like swooning even as he held her fast. He was as fierce as he was beautiful, like this place and the desert he ruled.

And she saw herself. The dizzy abandon on her face, that madness in her eyes, that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. She thought it might well be joy.

Shona hardly recognized herself.

And if it was a stranger, a little voice inside her whispered, you would say she was beautiful. Because that woman in Malak’s arms is beautiful.

“I want...” she whispered, the words torn from her as if she had no control over them.

“Tell me,” he growled, his mouth like a brand in the crook of her neck, and the strange thing was, she craved the burn of it. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” she managed to say.

She felt his smile, wicked and dark, there against her heated skin—even as she saw it happen in the mirror. It was like having the same sensation twice. That much brighter. That much hotter. “You already have me. I’m deep inside you.”

“Please,” she moaned, as if it wasn’t really begging. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to make these noises, to want these things she wanted, but only from him. “Please, Malak...”

“Tell me what you want,” he said again, more fiercely this time. “Tell me what you need, Shona.”

“I want...everything,” she managed to say, dizzy from her own rocking. From the slick, endless slide up, then down, again and again, and him so intensely hard inside of her. “Please, Malak. Please.”

He freed one of his hands from her grip, then reached down between them, moving beneath the silk of her dress to find the place where they were joined. And his fingers were as wicked as they were clever.

Malak found the aching center of her need and pressed down.

“Your wish is my command.” His voice was like another touch. “My queen.”

And then he drove her straight over that edge.

Shona tumbled and soared, bliss chasing itself around and around, and Malak followed her over that same steep, glorious side of the world, calling out her name as he fell.

For a long time they stayed as they were, with Malak lodged deep inside her as if they’d been made to fit like that. Some part of her believed they had been. That every day they’d missed this connection, this perfect fit, had been a kind of crime.

Shona didn’t want to move. She was limp against him, her head tilted back against his shoulder. And when she opened her eyes, she could see the two of them in the mirror still.

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