Zahra fiddled with the edge of the comforter, searching for something to say, battling against the rising need inside her. Hold me. Make love to me so I can forget these terrible memories for a little while.
He still hadn’t moved from the doorway, just stood there watching her with that unreadable expression she couldn’t decipher. “If you want to work some more I can get up and help,” she offered. Her fingers worried the edge of the quilt faster. You’re such a chicken shit, Zahra. Tell him you want him. What the hell are you waiting for? “There’s not much in the fridge, but maybe I can fix us something…” Her voice frayed and she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, wondering if she sounded as dumb as she felt.
Sean unfolded his arms and prowled toward her.
Zahra held her breath as he crossed the room, her heart thudding against her breastbone. He strode to the edge of the bed and sat beside her hip, the mattress dipping under his weight. In the added light coming from the hallway she could see the way he searched her eyes for a moment. Then he reached up and cupped the side of her face with one hand. She almost closed her eyes in relief.
His palm was warm against her skin, his thumb gentle as it swept over her cheek. A jumble of emotions swamped her. Fear. Desire. Uncertainty. Loneliness. Need. A need she didn’t fully understand, but wanted to explore with Sean. She trusted him implicitly.
Gathering her courage, Zahra brought one hand up and curled her fingers around his strong wrist. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, so soft and full on what were otherwise such hard, masculine features.
Without a word, Sean brought up his other hand to cradle her face between them and lowered his head to kiss her. Zahra moaned and slid her hands into his thick, damp hair, opening her mouth for the soft caress of his tongue. Bolts of heat swept into the pit of her stomach and between her thighs.
Strong hands pressed her shoulders back onto the bed. She went willingly and lay staring up at him in the dimness, trembling all over. Anticipation, nervousness and desire all swirled through her in a dizzying rush. The edgy need he’d woken in her earlier was back full force, making her entire body throb and she was more aware than ever of just the bedding and T-shirt covering her. But part of her still balked about doing this. On some level—because of the strict way she was raised—she still felt intrinsically guilty about engaging in premarital sex. Whenever she’d taken a lover in the past, the sex hadn’t lived up to her expectations at all. She was a little afraid of disappointing Sean because all the guys had made her feel like her inability to reach orgasm with them was her fault.
But she’d also never been this turned on before, and that was all Sean’s doing. She wanted this. Hell, as a grown, healthy woman with natural desires, she deserved this. And she knew instinctively she wouldn’t be disappointed this time.
As though he sensed her hesitation, Sean stretched out beside her and braced his weight on one forearm, his upper body above hers. Poised there, he smoothed the hair back from her forehead, the gesture unspeakably tender from such a hard man. “Tell me what you need.”
Her inner muscles clenched at the thought of him driving the erection she could feel against her hip deep into her willing body. “More of you.”
She blinked at the question. “Pardon?”
“Soft and slow? Fast and hard?”
Not soft or gentle. Right now she needed to feel his strength, a little of his roughness. Rather than answer, she smoothed her hands over his back and kissed him hard, letting her hunger speak for itself. Her fingers dug into the muscles in his shoulders, eagerly testing the power thrumming beneath his hot skin. He met the stroke of her tongue eagerly and took over, slowing the kiss to a drugging caress that made her whimper.