warming
his palms, sending electrical vibrations all along his nerve
endings. He looked around as she tugged him down to the couch, as
she snuggled close to him on the soft leather, as he closed his
arms around her and her head rested against his chest.
Teak furnishings, floor-to-ceiling cabinets,
a galley kitchen, high-tech electronics, and ahead, a raised bed.
This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t anywhere he recognized. Water
lapped somewhere close. Water that indicated…
“Mira,” he said quickly, excitement building
inside him. “Are we on the water?”
“Yes,” she said against him. “On my boss’s
boat. He let me borrow it. I haven’t been able to focus since you
left, so I took the rest of my vacation.”
They were on a boat. The tension in his
muscles began to relax, and relief spiraled through his whole body.
Zoraida couldn’t hear them on a boat. Water interfered with her
ability to see through the opal he was wearing and monitor what he
was doing. It was a loophole she hated. And he was forbidden from
taking any mark on a boat, into water period. But he hadn’t brought
Mira here. She’d brought him.
A slow
smile twined its way across his mouth, and he tipped her chin up to
his so he could see those mesmerizing eyes again. “You, hayaati , are
amazing.”
“Why?”
“Because you are.”
He brushed his fingers through her long
hair, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her the way he’d
restrained himself from kissing her earlier. Her lips parted
easily, and he stroked his tongue against hers, tasted her
sweetness, her goodness, her wetness and need. Reveled in just
being close to her. Even if he knew it could never last. For the
first time in ten years, Zoraida couldn’t see him. She couldn’t
hear him. She couldn’t touch him. Not so long as they were on this
boat. And before he had to decide what to do next, he planned to
show Mira just what her gift meant to him. Even if she didn’t know
it was a gift in the first place.
He pushed her down to the cushions, braced
his hands on the leather as he climbed over her and changed the
angle of the kiss, as he tasted her deeper, as her arms came around
him and she pulled him close. His chest brushed hers; her legs
opened to make room for him. And when she groaned, when her fingers
dug into his shoulders and she pulled him even closer, all the
worry rushed away.
He’d
never been in love before. Not even with a female from his world.
He’d never had time. And then he’d been imprisoned by Zoraida, and
love had been the furthest thing from his mind. But here he was.
With a female. A human female.
One who gave and gave and didn’t ask for anything in return. One
who had missed him, even
knowing what he really was.
“Mira—”
She lifted her knees on each side of his,
drawing him toward her heat, kissing him again and again and
cutting off his words. Then she pressed her full, luscious breasts
against his chest until all he could think about was stripping her
naked and showing her with his hands and mouth and body how much
she meant to him.
“Mira—”
“Don’t talk, Tariq,” she whispered, kissing
his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Just kiss me again. God, I missed
you.”
They were words no one ever said. Words he’d
longed to hear. Words that touched a part of him he’d closed off
from the world. He sank into her mouth, pushed his erection against
her mound, groaned at the contact, just as she did. But when her
hands traveled down his back and her fingers pressed into his
still-healing wounds, he jerked back from her mouth and ground his
teeth against the shot of pain igniting like fire in his flesh.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What
happened?”
“Nothing,” he managed, wincing as the burn
slowly faded. “I’m…fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Mira said, pushing him up
and climbing onto her knees on the couch. “You’re hurt. Turn
around.”
“Mira—”
“Turn around, Tariq.”
One glance at her
his palms, sending electrical vibrations all along his nerve
endings. He looked around as she tugged him down to the couch, as
she snuggled close to him on the soft leather, as he closed his
arms around her and her head rested against his chest.
Teak furnishings, floor-to-ceiling cabinets,
a galley kitchen, high-tech electronics, and ahead, a raised bed.
This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t anywhere he recognized. Water
lapped somewhere close. Water that indicated…
“Mira,” he said quickly, excitement building
inside him. “Are we on the water?”
“Yes,” she said against him. “On my boss’s
boat. He let me borrow it. I haven’t been able to focus since you
left, so I took the rest of my vacation.”
They were on a boat. The tension in his
muscles began to relax, and relief spiraled through his whole body.
Zoraida couldn’t hear them on a boat. Water interfered with her
ability to see through the opal he was wearing and monitor what he
was doing. It was a loophole she hated. And he was forbidden from
taking any mark on a boat, into water period. But he hadn’t brought
Mira here. She’d brought him.
A slow
smile twined its way across his mouth, and he tipped her chin up to
his so he could see those mesmerizing eyes again. “You, hayaati , are
amazing.”
“Why?”
“Because you are.”
He brushed his fingers through her long
hair, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her the way he’d
restrained himself from kissing her earlier. Her lips parted
easily, and he stroked his tongue against hers, tasted her
sweetness, her goodness, her wetness and need. Reveled in just
being close to her. Even if he knew it could never last. For the
first time in ten years, Zoraida couldn’t see him. She couldn’t
hear him. She couldn’t touch him. Not so long as they were on this
boat. And before he had to decide what to do next, he planned to
show Mira just what her gift meant to him. Even if she didn’t know
it was a gift in the first place.
He pushed her down to the cushions, braced
his hands on the leather as he climbed over her and changed the
angle of the kiss, as he tasted her deeper, as her arms came around
him and she pulled him close. His chest brushed hers; her legs
opened to make room for him. And when she groaned, when her fingers
dug into his shoulders and she pulled him even closer, all the
worry rushed away.
He’d
never been in love before. Not even with a female from his world.
He’d never had time. And then he’d been imprisoned by Zoraida, and
love had been the furthest thing from his mind. But here he was.
With a female. A human female.
One who gave and gave and didn’t ask for anything in return. One
who had missed him, even
knowing what he really was.
“Mira—”
She lifted her knees on each side of his,
drawing him toward her heat, kissing him again and again and
cutting off his words. Then she pressed her full, luscious breasts
against his chest until all he could think about was stripping her
naked and showing her with his hands and mouth and body how much
she meant to him.
“Mira—”
“Don’t talk, Tariq,” she whispered, kissing
his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Just kiss me again. God, I missed
you.”
They were words no one ever said. Words he’d
longed to hear. Words that touched a part of him he’d closed off
from the world. He sank into her mouth, pushed his erection against
her mound, groaned at the contact, just as she did. But when her
hands traveled down his back and her fingers pressed into his
still-healing wounds, he jerked back from her mouth and ground his
teeth against the shot of pain igniting like fire in his flesh.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What
happened?”
“Nothing,” he managed, wincing as the burn
slowly faded. “I’m…fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Mira said, pushing him up
and climbing onto her knees on the couch. “You’re hurt. Turn
around.”
“Mira—”
“Turn around, Tariq.”
One glance at her
Similar Books
