She danced with him, claiming him herself with a nip on his lower lip.
He chuckled low in his throat, then bent down and pressed his mouth to her neck.
She let her head fall back as her stomach clenched and her br**sts tightened in anticipation.
“I want you,” he breathed against her skin.
“I’m yours.”
She was. For always.
As he sucked on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, she unfastened the buttons of his shirt. He nudged her back until she bumped into the desk. Once there, it was a simple matter to straighten, pull off her T-shirt and let him shove down her shorts and panties. She was already barefoot.
He shrugged out of his shirt while she unfastened her bra. Then she was naked before him. He looked at her body, his gaze lingering on her br**sts before dropping to the blond curls below her belly.
She could see his erection pressing against his slacks and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Knowing he wanted her made her want him more. When he put his hands on her waist, she pushed off the floor and landed on the edge of the desk.
The wood was cool on her bare skin, but also erotic. But she barely noticed. He bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth as he reached between her legs.
She parted for him, pulling her thighs as far apart as she could, wanting him to touch her everywhere. His fingers rubbed her swollen flesh, then settled into a steady rhythm designed to make her his slave.
He rubbed that single point of pleasure with his thumb and pushed two fingers deep inside of her. At the same time, he sucked on her nipple, then licked the tight point and blew on her damp skin.
So much pleasure, she thought, barely able to form coherent thoughts. She clutched at him, never wanting him to stop, needing him, only him. Tension built, as did the promise of her release. She fumbled with his belt and slacks, desperate to have him inside of her.
He straightened and quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes. Then he moved between her legs and pushed into her.
He filled her deeply, moving slowly, letting her stretch to accommodate him. The slow aching gave way to more frantic desire. She needed movement to climax. The deep, thrilling thrusts as he made her his own.
He obliged her by withdrawing, then slipping in again. More quickly this time.
She sank back on the desk and gave herself over to the act of love they shared.
He clutched her hips to pull her against him. Need grew. She wrapped her legs around him, holding them more closely together. Tension increased.
She felt her breathing quicken as her body heated. He slipped his hand between them and rubbed that most sensitive place.
It was too much, she thought as she cried out her pleasure. Her orgasm washed over her, blanking her mind until there was only sensation. She grabbed for him, pulling him in deeper and deeper, taking all of him, riding him until he, too, lost control and they came together in a shuddering climax.
“I’ve never been to Los Angeles before,” Princess Phoebe said from the back of the limo. She touched her husband’s arm. “Maybe we’ll have time to go to a theme park while we’re here.”
Rafiq didn’t say anything, but he held in a smile. He doubted his father would ever consider going to a place like that on purpose, but he would deny his wife nothing. They’d been together nearly fifteen years and from all accounts seemed happy.
Something to consider, he told himself. Perhaps he and Kiley could be like that, as well, growing in respect and affection over the years. Why was love required?
Prince Nasri patted his wife’s hand. “We’ll see,” he said. “It can be difficult to arrange visits like that on short notice. The park must be closed and—”
Phoebe leaned close and smiled. “We don’t have to close the park. Trust me. No one here will have any idea who we are. A few bodyguards will be enough.” She turned to Rafiq. “Tell him it’s perfectly safe.”
Rafiq held up his hands. “That is for my father to decide.”
She sighed. “How typical. You haven’t seen each other in nearly six months and still you band together to side against me.”
Her words were serious, but Rafiq saw the sparkle of amusement in her eyes.
“I’m not willing to make a claim for your safety until I’m sure,” he said.
“Very sensible,” his father told him. “Speaking of which, who is this girl you want to marry. What do you know about her?”
“Enough,” Rafiq said, knowing their few moments of rapport would end now.
Nasri frowned. “There are many well-qualified young women you have yet to meet.”
“Yes. I’m sure you have a list.”
“We do. If you’re interested.”
Phoebe took her husband’s hand and squeezed. “Now don’t get all huffy and regal with Rafiq. I’m sure he’s chosen well.”
“Yes, but who is she?”
“Who was I?” Phoebe asked.
“Someone I adored from the moment I saw you.”
“A nobody,” she reminded him. “I had no family, no connection to anyone powerful. I hadn’t even gone to college.”
“That was different,” he said, and lightly kissed her.
“This is different, too,” she told him. “If Rafiq loves her, then that is enough.”
The conversation reaffirmed Rafiq’s decision that Kiley should wait to meet his father at the house. Far better for her to be relaxed and for Nasri to voice his concerns out of her earshot. Besides, it didn’t matter what his father said. He and Kiley would be married.