Chapter 15
After managing to get rid of a very drunk Danna the night before, I asked one of my bodyguards to discreetly get her out of the party and escort her home.
She’s certainly not the most lovable person in the world, but it’s also not really her style to get drunk in public, or we would never have gotten involved.
It must have been a slip-up. Given her father’s position, though, the situation could have turned into a scandal of epic proportions.
However, the deplorable behavior merely irritated me. What worried me was the impact of her words on young Madeline’s mind.
It’s not the first time in my life that the past and present have collided, but it’s the first time it’s mattered to me.
It took me a few seconds to find out that Madeline had left with Zarif, and a sensation I had never experienced before corroded my stomach like acid.
Jealousy. Not just possessiveness but jealousy.
First it was only desire, but now that I have tasted the sweetness of her lips, felt her sexy body pressed against mine, and been responsible for her moans of pleasure, the fire of lust, previously just a flame, spread, demanding that I make her mine.
I hold the letter opener that belonged to my father, lost in memories of the past.
A few years ago, I was deceived about the person I was going to marry, and it hurt me much deeper than I like to admit. It determined the way I live my life now.
And worst of all: I haven’t obtained the answers I need to finally have closure.
Now, after a long time, I have found someone I desire to the point of considering changing the rules of my own game.
As if my thoughts called to her, I hear two knocks on the door, and the woman who has the power to ignite my blood steps in.
I assess her from head to toe.
If, on the day she came to work wearing the tempting pink dress, she wasn’t sure she would meet me, today she definitely knew. It was Friday.
Especially because we will be traveling to Turkey tomorrow.
Madeline is wearing a dress the color of red wine.
At first glance, it looks like nothing special.
However, two things immediately catch my attention: it is very feminine, with a wide, flared skirt that falls to the knee, exposing her arms as well, and the fact that it is one of the pieces I gave her as a gift.
I scan her at a leisurely pace, paying attention to her feet clad in black high heels, lingering on her exposed legs before shifting up to her hips, her flat abdomen, and the breasts I felt pressed against my chest last night as she moaned into my mouth.
And finally, I reach her face—a face that deserves to be immortalized by a sculptor, perfect as it is.
I can’t explain what makes her so irresistible to me. I’ve had a significant number of women in my life, and none of them put me in such a frenzy of desire like the woman who I now know hasn’t been touched before.
Perhaps it’s her innocence?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself at night, but I still don’t have an answer. The only thing I know is that every time we’re in the same vicinity, I want to mark her skin with my teeth and lips. Claim her naturally pink mouth as mine, touch her, hear her say my name.
We gaze at each other in silence, both imprisoned by our own thoughts.
Suddenly, there is a shift in the atmosphere. It’s almost imperceptible, but it makes me rise and move toward her.
Even before touching her, I know I’m complicating things between us, especially after what happened, but I still pull her into my arms because at that moment, desire defeats reason.
She shivers, and her reaction turns me on even more. For a few seconds, I just inhale the skin of the soft curve of her neck.
Madeline sighs, surrendering, and my lips dominate hers with ferocity, demanding her surrender. My hands move, touching everything within reach. Her back, her arms, the sides of her breasts.
She moans in response, and when my thumb circles her hardened nipple, she bites her lower lip.
Impatiently, I back her against the nearest wall, lifting one of her thighs and bringing it to my hip, then rubbing my thick arousal against the junction between her legs.
Hungry and possessive, I nip at her shoulder, but it’s never enough, so my hands descend, and I try to lift her dress.
I’m not thinking clearly. All I know is that I want to feel her warmth on my fingers.
When I reach the sides of her panties, she freezes, tensing against me. Then she pushes me away.
Lost in desire, it takes me a moment to hear what she’s saying.
Madeline pushes me again and repeats, “No.”
I force myself to step back, struggling to breathe, my lack of control pissing me off.
Still, I refuse to mask what I’m feeling. “I want you.”
She’s trembling, breathless. “I know, but we need to talk first.”
Her words confuse me, because her body is clearly giving her away, her words laced with desire.
“Talk?”
“Yes. About rules. I’ve been thinking about it all night and this morning. You have your own rules, and now I have mine. We need to reach an agreement if we want things between us to work.”
“You want to make rules?” I ask like an idiot. The truth is, I can’t believe what I just heard. I’ve never gone through anything like this. I’m the one who always sets the rules.
“Yes. You’re very experienced, Kamal. To make it a fair game, we need to balance things between us. You told me you never spend more than a month with a woman so they don’t get unrealistic expectations. I think they can be nurtured within just thirty days anyway.”
I stare at her as if she’s from another planet. “You want less than thirty days?”
“Much less. One single night is all we’ll have. After that, we go back to our normal lives and you never try to seduce me again. I want your word on that.”