Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Myles
F inally making love to Zara is more than I could have ever imagined it to be. The feel of her, the fucking taste of her.
The fact that she wants me, as well?
I think I’m in heaven.
It might be madness– Christ, I can’t believe we didn’t use a condom– but, as she pushes me back against the edge of the bath, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, I don’t care. I want her again already, cannot get enough of her body, of the way she feels against me.
But I do as she asks, and stay put.
She picks up a sponge on the edge of the bath, and a bottle of bath soap.
She drizzles soap on the sponge, releasing the scent of orange blossom.
I wonder whether she’s going to scrub me, my anticipation rising at the thought of her hands on me.
But my breath catches in my throat as she slowly and deliberately soaps her breasts, the sponge circling her rosy nipples, trails of soap bubbles across her smooth skin.
Fucking hell.
I’m going to come before I even touch her, if she keeps on with this.
She sways, curving her body, holding my gaze as she runs the sponge across her torso, along her slender arms, water swirling around her curving hips.
Candlelight flickers, casting shadows across her as she turns, her hair a shimmering river down her back.
I’m mesmerised, my heart pounding as she drips soapy water down one raised arm, shooting me a heated glance.
Finally, I’ve had enough. With a roar I launch myself from the seat, grabbing her and pulling her to me. She giggles, her soapy skin sliding against mine driving me to distraction.
“Did you like that?” she whispers, rubbing her breasts against my chest. She straddles me, grinding against my cock until I’m close to exploding. She’s breathing hard and, as she bends her head for a kiss, she reaches down to adjust me so I enter her as she settles back onto my lap.
“Christ,” I groan, my head going back.
She starts to move, sliding up and down, her sex hot and wet around me. Her breasts tease my chest, her curves slippery beneath my fingers. I knot my hand in her hair, pulling her head back so I can kiss her throat, my other hand rolling her nipple like a marble against my palm.
She gasps, moaning my name.
“Zara,” I mutter, releasing her hair. Her head comes forward as she braces both arms on the edge of the bath, her hips moving more quickly against mine. I reach between us, pressing down on her clit, feeling her tighten around me. I could make love to her for ever.
But all good things, eventually, come to an end. My orgasm builds as she rides me, then it bursts through me, taking my breath. My hands grip her hips, convulsive, as she finds her own ecstasy again, her cries of pleasure sending me over the edge.
“Oh, Myles.” She sags against me, her head dropping to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, and it’s this perfect moment of roses and flickering lantern light, of this woman being everything I’ve ever wanted.
“Come on.” I gently move her from me. My desire sated for now, I just want to hold her close and drift into sleep.
She seems to feel the same way, moving slowly as I help her from the tub, flashing me a sleepy smile.
I grab a bath towel from the rack and wrap it around her, then take another for myself, and lead her through into the bedroom.
We dry each other off, stumbling on the towels, giggling as we fall into the huge bed together.
I pull her into my arms, wrapping myself around her.
I feel protective and wild at the same time, and never want her to be far from me again.
I’d had hopes for this evening, but this is beyond my wildest dreams.
Zara sleepily kisses my shoulder, her lashes like fans against her cheeks, her damp hair tangled on the pillow. The corner of her mouth curves, and I see a flicker of a dimple. She is fucking adorable.
I hold her as she drifts off to sleep, as the lanterns flicker into darkness, night wrapping around us like a cloak.
I feel a growing sense of wonder. There have been other women I’ve wanted, but usually, once the chase is over, the thrill is gone as well.
This is not the case with Zara. This feels like a beginning, as though I could explore her for ever.
And that’s what I want to do. I want her.
Forever.
The realisation doesn’t hit me like a wave, though. Instead, this is a swell, something deep beneath the surface, carrying me. I’ve been a lone island for far too long. I want a partner, someone to ride the ups and downs of life with me, at my side. And I think I’ve finally found her.
I close my eyes and listen to her breathing, utterly at peace.
Zara
I wake slowly, wondering what the weight is on me.
Then I remember. Happiness bursts through me once more. I open my eyes fully, hoping it wasn’t just a particularly detailed dream.
Not a dream.
Myles is lying next to me, his shoulder and one arm resting across me. His face is close to mine, relaxed in sleep. I lightly trace his long nose with my finger, his full bottom lip. His lashes are long and dark, his raven hair tangled. He’s still asleep, his breath deep and even.
I don’t know what happens next, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with him. Mind-blowing sex aside– I blush at the memory of him between my legs, his tongue teasing me– I feel safer with him than I ever have with anyone else in my life.
I lie there a little longer, trailing my hand along his lean muscled torso, listening to him breathing.
I’m sore in the best possible way, and my body is already waking up, wanting more of him.
But the needs of my bladder are becoming even more urgent and, regretfully, I slide out from under his arm, sitting up.
He moves, murmuring, his arm reaching across the bed.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper, gazing at him fondly.
I pad naked into the bathroom and do what I need to do.
The bath is still half-full, rose petals wilting on the tiled floor, the candles in the lanterns burnt out.
But if I close my eyes I can still see it as it was, a memory that will never leave me.
I wander into the living area, wondering if Myles and I will have time to make love again before we catch our flight this afternoon.
I don’t want to leave this place, I realise.
I want to stay here and explore more, go deeper into the medina, visit the other palace, walk in the footsteps of kings and queens and adventurers.
I want to spend more nights in Myles’s arms, see how many positions we can try in the tub and elsewhere, kiss in secluded alcoves and dance under desert stars. I hate that we have to go home today.
But at the same time I’m excited, wondering what comes next. He wants to be with me, and I with him. I still can’t quite believe it’s true.
I open the sliding door and step onto the terrace, breathing in the scent of roses and orange blossom and cloves.
The market is already humming, people in the streets below.
There’s time for sex and to go out for one more walk, I decide, as I peer over the high wall.
I realise, when I turn, that there are trays of food still set out next to the table.
I giggle. We hadn’t needed dinner last night.
The only thing we wanted to devour was each other.
He’d woken me with kisses in the early hours, making soft torturous love to me until my whole body hummed with pleasure, moaning my name as he came, throbbing inside me.
If I’d said no, if I’d pulled away from him in the palace, I would never have known.
I would have gone back to London and resigned, and never seen him again. I can’t imagine the pain of that, now.
My dress is where I left it, draped over a chair, the fabric fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. Myles’s clothes are crumpled on the floor nearby. I pick up my dress, holding the soft fabric to me, swaying as I remember how we danced together, how he touched me through the silk.
Then I hear a woman’s voice coming from inside the suite.
I freeze. Has Myles ordered room service and forgotten? I quickly slip my dress on, fastening the tie at my waist. I run my hands through the tangle of my hair, coiling it into a knot at the nape of my neck.
I go back inside but there’s no one in the living area. I look around, frowning. There’s an unfamiliar scent in the air, though, a trail of expensive perfume. I hear the voice again. My stomach plummets. It’s coming from the bedroom.
Feeling cold all over, I walk towards the archway between the two rooms. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see, but it isn’t this.
Myles, all sleepy eyes, his hair tousled, gazes at me from the bed. A silk robe, pale green, is on the floor next to it. And, in his arms, smirking at me, her body curled possessively around his, is Big Red.