Page 60 of Silver Angel

Chantelle was melting under his gentle attack. Her limbs seemed to have liquefied, her strength flowing away, leaving a fire behind that frightened her, and yet she had no desire to halt its course. Far from it. What she was feeling was so delicious, so intoxicating, she couldn’t question it. She just wanted it to go on forever.

Senses reeling in discovery, she was barely aware of the hand that had slipped beneath her vest to squeeze the flesh there. It was warm, but so was the belly pressed to hers, so was the leg that covered her own, so was the mouth that had taken control of her will. Then that mouth left hers and exploded in white-hot heat against her breast.

It was too much, one new sensation too many, especially when this one was the most powerful. His mouth enclosing over her nipple, his tongue softly stabbing at it, was a violent shock that brought her hands flying to his head to jerk him away.

“Don’t.”

The low growl stopped her in an instant. It also stiffened her body. Fear was all she felt now, but still she would stop him again if his mouth returned to her breast.

It didn’t. He was aware that the desire he had ignited in her had disappeared. He had gone too far too fast again for such an innocent. But realizing that didn’t ease his pain.

Derek dropped his forehead to her chest, desperately fighting the urge to ignore the fact that she had become cold and unyielding, to simply take her and end his torture. It was going to happen eventually. Why the bloody hell should he wait and suffer like this?

Because he didn’t want her to hate him any more than she already did. Because he wanted her soft and willing and wanting him with equal fervor. Anything less and he would feel cheated. But knowing that didn’t cool off his body any quicker either.

He felt her hands at his shoulders, pushing very gently but insistently. She wanted a distance between them. He only wanted to get closer. He considered for a moment that in the role he was assuming, his wishes were the only ones that mattered. The trouble was, he couldn’t play that role without alienating her further. With anyone else it didn’t matter. With her, and only her, because she didn’t really know the true Jamil, he could be different, more himself. But not too different. Women gossiped and compared notes, after all, and every other woman in the harem knew Jamil intimately. He couldn’t have Shahar wondering about her deferential treatment or mentioning it to anyone.

“I am trying very hard to ignore the fact that I have you exactly where I want you, Shahar. But if you can’t find some patience and be as still as possible to make it easier for me, I am going to give up the effort.”

Her hands fell away from his shoulders, but for some reason, he resented her quick compliance this time. That she would do anything to keep him from making love to her was blatantly apparent and shattering to his ego. He wondered just how far she would go to delay the inevitable. He wondered if he could withstand putting her to the test.

He leaned back to pierce her with his emerald gaze. “I will assume that you object to being made love to in the bright light of day, rather than that you find my touch offensive. Am I correct?”

His displeasure was so obvious to her that she was afraid to accept the excuse he offered, let alone deny it with the truth, which wasn’t that his touch was offensive, just that its effect on her was frightfully disturbing. She simply didn’t understand what happened to her when he touched her, why it felt so good when he kissed her, why her skin became so sensitive it felt as if she burned, why he should affect her at all.

“You don’t answer.”

She groaned inwardly, hating this new mood of his that could attack with such calm deliberation. “Please, can’t I just leave now?”

“No, we are going to talk, you and I, to discuss things that interest me, such as how you can be so warm and wet for me one moment, then turn cold and unyielding the next.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t.”

“Oh, but you did, and I want your secret, Shahar. Perhaps then I can control my passion as easily. I can’t, you see, at least not where you are concerned. So tell me. I truly want to know.”

Just from the way he said it, she knew instinctively that nothing would satisfy him except the truth. And it wasn’t secrets he wanted. She knew that. He wanted to know why she had stopped his lovemaking when she had.

“I was frightened.”

“Of what?” His tone softened a degree. “Haven’t you realized yet that I won’t hurt you?”

“But it did hurt.”

“What did?”

“The heat.”

He stared at her for a long, curious moment. “Is your skin really that sensitive, Shahar? Does this burn you?”

She sucked in her breath and began to squirm as his hand closed over her breast. She had been completely unaware that it had been bared to him all this time, ever since he had lifted the vest to taste of it.

“Please—”

“Did it burn?” he repeated, though he took his hand away and even tugged the little strip of thin cloth back down to cover her.

“No,” she admitted, closing her eyes against the acute embarrassment she felt about this subject. “It—it was your mouth.”

He smiled at her, though she didn’t see it. “The mouth is known to be a rather warm part of the body, little moon. Perhaps you were only startled by its heat, since you are not yet accustomed to it. But I do assure you that you are not burned, and what you felt was natural, if a little extreme. It will not be such a shock to you next time.”