I'm afraid of what he'll say in return.
SAFIYA NEVER THOUGHT about sex. It was not that she found sex frightening or sickening, but because of what she had witnessed in her childhood, she had never found herself desiring it either.
Until now.
She had expected the sheikh to draw her close by taking her hand, but instead she felt his fingers curve around the sides of her waist. Her breath caught, and fire caressed every inch of her skin as his fingers tightened.
The sheikh slowly drew her close, and her heart began to pound.
Faster.
Harder.
And as the space between them disappeared, and her dark eyes lifted to his, it was also then that the sheikh's head slowly descended, and their lips finally met.
Safiya.
To be able to even think of her name felt an indulgence, and Altair found himself indulging in it over and over as he had his first taste of her mouth.
Safiya. Safiya. Safiya.
He fought to keep the movement of his lips slow and soft. Gentle. He didn't want to frighten her, but controlling himself was proving a lot harder than he imagined. She tasted too fucking lovely. Sweet. And innocent. But most perturbing of all, she tasted his.
The way her lips trembled. The way she whimpered, and the way her arms circled around his neck as he deepened his kiss—-
All of it whispered to his heart that she was his.
His.
The princess was his. Safiya...was his, and as the knowledge sank in, Altair's hunger for her exploded—-
Safiya could only jerk in surprise when the kiss abruptly deepened...just as the sheikh hauled her close, and as her entire body fell against his—-
Hard.
Every inch of him was so, so wonderfully hard, and best of all, his hardness against her softness—-
It felt good.
So, so unbelievably good that Safiya couldn't help but dig her nails into his back and moan against his lips—-
But it wasn't enough.
She had thought it would be, but it wasn't. She wanted more, and somehow, even though her mind didn't know what 'more' meant exactly, her body seemed to do so, and—-
Oooooooh.
Safiya slowly began rubbing her body against the sheikh's.
What. The. Fuck.
Altair's first instinct was to pull away. It was one thing for them to kiss, but this?
This would only further complicate things, but fuck, fuck, fuck—-
It had been too long, dammit, and he couldn't even remember the last time he wanted a woman this much.
Just too fucking goddamn long—-
And when he felt her nipples start to pout against his chest—-
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
But it was too late now.
He wanted her, she wanted him, and most importantly of all, she was his, so complications be damned—-
Safiya whimpered when the sheikh suddenly lifted her up in his arms, and she could only grip his shoulders more tightly as she felt him lower her to the couch.
The sheikh guided her down until she was flat against her back, and he was seated on the edge, his hard thigh pressed against her arm. Their gazes clashed, and her breath caught. Oh, the way he was looking at her now—-
Altair bit back a growl as he watched the princess' breasts swell against the tight confines of her school blouse.
Outside this room, the afternoon sun was still harshly bright, and the desert heat oppressive. Students were still in class, and university personnel were still roaming the hallways. That now was not the optimal moment to touch her was a gross understatement, but even so.
He wanted her, dammit.
Wanted her so fucking bad that he just couldn't help himself, and so with his gaze still holding hers captive, Altair let his fingers slowly drift down—-
"Altair..."
The melodic softness of her voice wrapped around his name like a lover's caress, and lust burned even hotter inside of him.
"Ah!"
Her gasp was full of wonder as his hand finally found her breast, and Altair could feel his cock swelling in size as he watched her gaze turn hazy with desire.
"Afraid?" the sheikh asked in a rough whisper.
"Never," Safiya whispered back, and she nearly whimpered when she saw his gaze glitter with approval. Not even in her wildest dreams had she allowed herself to imagine this—-
The sheikh staring at her with blatant lust as his fingers made short work of her button, and when she felt him give her bra a hard yank for her breasts to spill out—-
Aaaaaah.
Safiya's body buckled as the dizzying heat of his touch penetrated her skin, and an acute sense of trembling awareness threatened to consume her when the sheikh started palming and kneading her breasts.
His hands, she thought dazedly, were so much larger than hers. Harder. Stronger. Beautiful like the rest of him, and when she found herself telling him exactly that—-
Altair nearly choked.
Beautiful?
Was she blind?
Did she not see the long, jagged scar that marred half of his face? She was either a liar or an idiot, but when he fucking looked into her eyes—-