Surrender in the Arms of the Sheikh: Exposed: The Sheikh's Mistress / Stolen by the Sheikh / Fit For a Sheikh. Trish MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
this time, for more than anything she wanted him to kiss her, to whisper sweet words to accompany these erotic gestures.
‘Shh,’ he instructed silkily, for he knew from experience that conversation could break the mood and concentration. He knew what he wanted and he was going to allow nothing—nothing—to stop him from achieving it.
Sienna squirmed on the cold coverlet and the expert movement of his hands made her need for reassurance vanish. Her breasts had never felt like this before. As if they had swollen to twice their normal size and were prickling with excitement—the blood coursing through them so that the slightest touch sent shafts of pure pleasure spiralling through her. She squealed as his tongue licked against the sensitised flesh.
‘You are very responsive for one so…innocent,’ he observed against her puckered nipple.
Another shaft of pleasure so acute that it bordered on pain shot through her, and she was aware of an empty, echoing longing, just crying out to be filled. ‘A-am I?’
‘Yes, you are. And now you will be more responsive still….’
Sienna’s breath caught in her throat, for his hand was moving downwards now, inching towards the heated clamour—the very heart of where she most wanted to be touched—and Sienna silently prayed that he wouldn’t stop.
‘I won’t,’ he said roughly, and she realised that she must have spoken the words out loud.
‘Hashim,’ she whispered, letting her lips rest against the soft furnace of his skin. ‘Hashim, I love you.’
For a moment he stilled, then shook his head very slightly, silencing her with his expert caress. He touched her molten and responsive heat with such delicate skill until she gasped in disbelief—like someone frantically seeking something only not quite sure what. Restlessly, her head moved from side to side as she stumbled towards a place of promise so beautiful that she was certain it could not really exist.
But it did. Oh, it did. She found it and fell into it, sobbing out her fulfilment, scarcely aware of Hashim pulling away from her. But, as reason and sanity began to seep back in, she realised that he was getting off the bed and moving away.
Over to the other side of the room and as far away from her as possible!
She blinked as she struggled to catch her breath. ‘Hashim?’ she croaked in confusion. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘Wrong?’ He paused before answering her question, sucking in a deep breath as he sought—successfully —to bring his desire under control, to be replaced with the slow simmer of rage. ‘I think that we’re through with playing games, don’t you?’
Sienna sat up on the bed, aware that her clothing was in disarray, feeling somehow cheapened as she stared into the forbidding mask of his face. A Hashim she’d never seen before, and one she barely recognised. ‘Why are you behaving like this?’ she questioned in bewilderment. ‘Don’t you…don’t you want to make love to me? Properly?’
‘You think I would deign to contaminate myself by entering you?’ he questioned insultingly. ‘You who have fooled me!’
‘I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about!’ But some self-protective instinct made her begin to button her dress with trembling fingers.
‘The sweet little virgin!’ he ground out furiously. ‘Like hell you are! Sweet little virgins don’t take their clothes off and pose for pornographic photos!’
And then it all became horribly, horribly clear. That calendar. Those twelve photos. Oh, those wretched, wretched photos.
Sienna flinched and let out a shuddering sigh. ‘You’ve seen them?’
Had there perhaps been some insane part of him which had been hoping that it was all a mistake—that she had a secret identical sister waiting in the wings, perhaps? Because, if so, that futile thought was banished by the look of guilt on her face.
His hopes and dreams for what might have been now crumbled before his eyes like desert dust as he realised his mistake. He had believed her to be the woman he wanted her to be, not the woman she really was. He had been sucked in by her beauty and her air of innocence. Oh, what a fool he had been!
‘Yes, I’ve seen them!’ he grated, remembering that he had been about to introduce her to his family! That he had actually been entertaining thoughts of her as a future bride. Fool!
‘Hashim—please—it isn’t how it looks,’ she said desperately.
She had agreed to do the calendar as a one-off to get her mother the operation she’d needed. Her mother had been crippled with pain and facing ruin, and the badly needed operation had been expensive. It had been an unconventional way to get the money, yes—but the only way which had been open to her at the time. And surely if Hashim realised how desperate she had felt. How hopeless her mother’s predicament…
‘Please, Hashim…I can explain—’
‘What? How you came to be rubbing your breasts and simulating orgasm?’ he cut in brutally, but despite his disgust he nevertheless felt the hard leap of desire. For even though their existence destroyed any future between them, he was not hypocritical enough to deny that they were magnificent photographs. ‘You think that there is any acceptable explanation for that?’ he snapped.
‘It isn’t—’
But his rage was such that he barely heard her. ‘On the head of my camel you are a magnificent actress— I commend you for that! You have succeeded in fooling me. And you have lied to me,’ he added bitterly, remembering the way she had told him that she was a virgin—and that she loved him.
‘I did not lie to you! I just…’ She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. ‘Couldn’t think of the right time to tell you.’
‘But there would never have been a right time! In my culture, such conduct from the consort to the Sheikh would be utterly repellent—surely you must have known that?’
Sienna stared at him. Of course she had. Was that another reason why she had buried it away? As if by doing that she could pretend it had never happened? So that she wouldn’t have to face the repercussions of her actions? Could carry on living in her little fantasy world with Hashim—untouched by the past and untroubled by the future? But had she ever imagined that the outcome would be any different from this? That there would be some magical, fairy-tale solution despite what she’d done?
No. Hashim would never forgive her.
The reality of seeing the contempt in his black eyes
was almost too much to bear, and Sienna stood up and picked up her shoes, her hair falling down over her face, concealing her pain from him.
But she paused by the door, lifting her gaze to his, unable to suppress the tiny flicker of hope which stubbornly refused to die.
‘Is that it, then, Hashim? Is it…over?’
‘Over?’ His mouth hardened, for he wanted to wound her. To hurt her as she had hurt him. To destroy her dreams as she had destroyed his. ‘I think you forget yourself. Did you ever expect that it would be anything other than a very temporary diversion?’ he questioned imperiously. ‘For I am the Sheikh and you are but a commoner.’ His made his final thrust. ‘A true commoner.’
CHAPTER THREE
HOW painful the past could be.
But as the mists of memory cleared, and Sienna looked into Hashim’s steely black eyes, the pain came flooding back as if the years in between had never happened.
She remembered the way she had stumbled from his suite that evening, the tears beginning to slip from beneath her eyelids. Somehow she had made it home and howled into her pillow like a wounded animal. She had never known that it was possible to cry that much. Or to hurt that much. To be revolted by the thought of food and want only to sleep—but