"Shiek" - читать интересную книгу автора (Connie Mason)

"Don't think, just feel," he said as he easily flipped her to her back. Then his hands worked the same kind of magic over her breasts, stomach and the front of her legs.

When he dipped his oiled fingers between her thighs, Zara stirred and murmured a weak protest. She was thoroughly enjoying the massage until his blatant sexual overture spoiled her pleasure.

Zara squealed in surprise when Jamal bent his head and kissed her breasts, first one then the other. He kneaded them, lifting them to his hungry mouth to suckle and lick. She whimpered when he bit gently upon a tender crest. Immediately he soothed it with the moist warmth of his tongue.

She shivered. The pleasure was sharp, almost unbearable, and dangerous. Losing the wager meant permanent captivity.

"Stop!"

"I haven't done anything yet," Jamal whispered. Then he drew one nipple deep into his mouth, sucking vigorously as his hands stroked the length of her slick body.

"I won't let you seduce me!" Zara cried, nearly mindless with pleasure. What she and Sayed had done together was child's play compared to what Jamal was doing to her now.

Leaving the sweet enticement of her breasts, his mouth fastened onto hers, his tongue delving deeply, tasting of her. Nectar of the gods, he thought as he nibbled and sucked on her lips. But it was another set of pouting lips that drew his mouth downward. She shuddered uncontrollably as he traced a path to the glistening cleft between her legs.

"You taste of jasmine," he said, referring to the scent he had used to massage her body.

Her hips rose off the couch, pleasure stabbing her as he tongued the tiny jewel between her legs. Suddenly he thrust two fingers into her inner wetness. She climaxed violently as his fingers thrust in and out of her.

While she lay recovering from the violent climax, Jamal rose above her. His sex was painfully distended, the tip wet with his juices. When he flexed his hips, Zara came to her senses, realizing her danger. She pushed against him so hard he landed on his rump on the floor. She leaped to her feet before he gained his wits, backing away from him, her green eyes blazing.

Jamal matched her anger as he picked himself off the floor and returned her glare.

"What made you think I'd let you seduce me so easily?" Zara asked. "I want my freedom."

"I gave you pleasure," Jamal said. "You let me put my tongue and fingers inside you."

"Did you give me a choice?"

"I could take you now if I wanted to. You are my slave. Slaves obey their masters."

"Then you would lose the wager, my lord," she said sweetly. "You are a man of your word, are you not?"

"I am a man. I can only be pushed so far. I'm obsessed with you, Zara. I've made no secret of the fact that I want you. Four weeks, my fiery warrior. Count the days, for you will be mine long before that."

He rose abruptly and pulled on his caftan. His erection was still full and heavy, his lust unassuaged. This kind of sexual frustration was foreign to him. When he wanted a woman all he had to do was ask and one would be available. His manhood had never known the kind of deprivation he was now experiencing.

Moving away from Jamal, Zara felt unspeakably vulnerable without her clothes. In the short time since their meeting, Jamal had learned her body more intimately than she knew it herself. It was humiliating.

"Give me back my clothes so I can to return to the stables."

"You are unlike any woman I've ever known," Jamal said sourly. Never had he met a more contrary female. Why wouldn't she give herself to him? It wasn't as if she were a shy virgin. She had enjoyed his loving, as far as it went. Did she still mourn her Berber lover? Not one to give up easily, Jamal renewed his vow to have Zara in his bed soon. He swore he would make it happen.

Zara hugged herself and shivered as Jamal rummaged through a chest containing an assortment of clothing. He found what he was looking for, handing her a white shirt, pantaloons and djellaba that must have belonged to him. She donned them quickly, rolling up the sleeves of the shirt and tightening the sash around her slim waist to hold up the trousers. Then she slipped the djellaba over her head.

"Come along," Jamal said as he picked up the oil lamp and held it aloft.

"Where are we going?"