On Fire Page 9

  Snorting, Khat growled, “He did not!” Not that she’d ever made love in any of those places or positions. She felt his roughened hand curve around her breast and all her indignation dissolved, her breath catching as his fingers moved slowly, teasingly, around it.

  “Okay,” he murmured, getting serious for a moment, “he said that certain positions might be more or less comfortable for you.” His voice dropped. “And you need to tell me, Khat, if you’re in pain or discomfort. Okay?” He knew when she surrendered over to him, her mind was gone and she was more like an animal in mating heat than human. He was too, so he needed to put that warning out there while they still had minds to think with before getting captured by lust.

  “Oh,” was all she said. “I guess we’ll just have to experiment and find out.” Khat’s lips grew into a teasing smile. She moved her hand toward his hip, her fingers grazing his erection. Instantly, Mike froze, his eyes turning feral. Two could play this game. She raised her brows. “Yes?”

  He groaned as she began to lightly stroke him. His nostrils flared and fire rocketed through him. Leaving her breast, he captured her hand curved around him. “You are dangerous,” he rasped.

  “Yes, I am,” Khat whispered, “because all I’ve been thinking about since I saw you was loving you, you filling me and rocking us out until we died of bliss…” She started to rise, but he smiled darkly, taking her hand and guiding it toward the headboard.

  Mike got to his knees and placed them on either side of her hips, gently but effectively holding her right where he wanted her. “I want you to wrap your fingers around these brass rods.”

  Confused, Khat felt him place her hands around the cool brass vertical rods that made up the 1930s headboard. “Why?”

  “Because we’re not into gymnastics tonight until we see where you’re at.” Watching her intensely, Mike leaned down, sliding his hands around her exposed breasts, his mouth taking hers for a moment. “Because,” he told her in a guttural voice, “I’m going down on you. That’s nice and safe and it doesn’t include gymnastics, which Mason has ruled out. Okay?” He raised his head, his fingers caressing her breasts, teasing but not touching those hard, begging nipples. Her eyes were already glazing over with heat. He watched her arched brows draw down.

  “Um…okay.”

  Mike had to remind himself that Khat had led a very sheltered first eighteen years of life. Her father would have protected her, not allowed her to socialize, go to a dance and especially not go out with a boy or later, a teenage hormone-driven young man. Not while she lived under his roof. He was pleased in a male way that she wasn’t so experienced with what he was going to do with her beautiful, responsive body. There was no fear in Khat’s eyes. His fingers roamed the length of her arms to where her fingers loosely curved around the brass rods. He smiled. Moving his mouth from her temple, following the delicate curve of her ear with his tongue, he breathed, “Whatever I do to you, keep your fingers around those rods. Don’t let go. Trust me to show you.”

  Khat moaned as his teeth gently took her ear lobe, tiny flames of heat radiating down her neck, flooding her breasts, making them taut and needy. “Y-yes,” she managed to croak. Of course she trusted him. It seemed like a silly response, but her mind was already dissolving as his teeth made small nips along the flesh of her neck, kissing each spot, licking it, and then slowly moving downward. Oh, yes, down to her breasts… Her lashes fell against her cheeks, her breathing growing irregular, feeling his erection pressing gently more and more into her belly. Every particle of her body felt like a slow, heated fire was building wherever he touched her with his mouth, his tongue and his hands. Her flesh melted beneath his purposeful onslaught.

  As his mouth teased her one nipple, she cried out, feeling her lower body catch on fire, muscles contracting fiercely, hunger at almost a painful level. She moved restlessly beneath him, her hips melding against his. Her lips parted, a small cry echoing up her throat as he lavished one nipple and then the other with his fingers and then by suckling her. Dampness quickly collected between her thighs. She arched as Mike continued the soft kisses down the center of her body, licking and caressing, and his calloused hands ignited her skin on fire as he moved them down across her ribs. Khat groaned, her fingers curving strongly about the brass rods as he dipped his tongue seductively into her belly button, his hands moving to her hips, capturing them.

  Khat’s breath was coming in ragged gasps as his mouth moved to her mound with its soft red curls. His hands worked slowly beneath her thighs, parting her, opening her to him. Her mind dissolved into a cauldron of blistering heat radiating from his mouth as his tongue followed the folds downward. An explosive moan erupted from her, eyes tightly shut as the intense and unexpected pleasure of his mouth, his tongue and lips, opened her up to his white-hot siege. She was vaguely aware of his hands once more, moving to her hips, not allowing her to budge, a captive to his patient, slow assault upon her body and senses.

  His tongue teased just outside her entrance and she gasped, the sensations wild and scorching. Her fingers curved powerfully around the brass rods. Khat sobbed as her convulsing body met his searching, tender probing within her. The movement was so intensely intimate, so stunningly powerful, she felt a keening, blinding heat suddenly build deep within her. Khat couldn’t move, his hands gripped her hips, holding her so she remained trapped in one of the most sensual, fiery pleasures a man could give to his woman. Air exploded out of her lungs, and she trembled violently as his tongue triggered a staggering orgasm that made her scream, the sensation so deep and burning, she was consumed by the racing fire.

  As she strained against the rippling, intense pleasure tearing through her, his tongue gently rasped against that swollen, aching pearl of nerves. A sudden gasp tore from her. Her whole body became damp as a second orgasm erupted and flowed like a powerful current. All she could do was cry out, captive, as he loved her in a new way, her body feeling as if an earthquake of undulations rolled through her with pleasure so intense, she felt faint.

  He retraced the same route up her body, his lips upon her belly, her torso, teasing her breasts, suckling each nipple. She lived in a world of excruciating ecstasy that never stopped. It only got better, deeper, more sensual and intense. Khat was vaguely aware as Mike eased her fingers free from around the brass rods. She barely opened her eyes, drowned in that male smile of his, eyes burning with arousal. Taking her hand, Mike kissed the palm and grated, “That’s what it means to go down on your woman.” Quivering, her body flooded in the aftermath, she closed her eyes, unable to catch her breath, a smile of gratification on her lips. She had never experienced such potent gratification.

  Khat settled her hands on his taut shoulders, arching against him, feeling his erection, wanting him within her. Mike threaded his fingers through her hair, trapping her in another way as he knelt between her thighs. His dark, hungry gaze never left hers as he pressed against her entrance. Aching to have him within her, she moaned, her hands gripping his hips, twisting upward.

  “Easy,” Mike cautioned hoarsely, leaning down, kissing her brow, her temple. “Remember? Your surgery?”

  Making a frustrated sound, Khat tangled her legs around his, the sleek firmness of her against the knotted hardness of his. Some of her tension evaporated as he moved cautiously within her and waited. Oh, the last thing Khat wanted was to wait! It was a tease to her greedy body. As he twisted his hips, a little deeper, a sudden pressure on the right side of her abdomen occurred.

  Mike felt Khat tense. Her eyes opened and he knew she was uncomfortable. “It’s all right,” he told her, easing out of her. Getting off her, he came to her side. “Let’s try it this way?” He coaxed her over him, her curved thighs straddling his hips. Mike had been concerned that even though he’d tried to keep most of his weight directly off Khat, it could be a problem. This way, she had full control and there was no extra weight upon her body.

  The moment Khat’s wet core slid down upon his erection, her world tilted once
more. She was frustrated and wanted Mike so badly. She felt his large hands span her hips, building her, moving her slowly back and forth against him. Breathing irregularly, she placed her palms against his upper chest. Khat felt him hold her, not allowing her to go too far, too fast. Her body burned and ached with need as he filled her, stretched her, and a deep sound of satisfaction flowed through her throat as her body accommodated him. His hands loosened once he was convinced she wasn’t feeling any discomfort. In one movement, Khat pulled him as deep as he could go. The pleasure was stunning, the heat emanating from her core, the contractions of her muscles made her sigh. He rocked his hips, taking her, thrusting, meeting her own movement. There was no pain. No discomfort. Khat relished the discovery, free to flow and drive him closer and closer to that sweet spot she wanted touched, triggered deep within her channel.

  In moments, she was immersed in nothing but scalding heat tripling within her achy lower body. Mike tensed just as she was hurtled into light and heat, her body contracting violently, the climax spreading out like a circle of fire, ever widening within her, burning her up, sending her into oblivion. It was then that she felt Mike’s hips jerk, holding her, his hands gripping her hard as he growled. She spun into a world of blistering sensations, feeling him pulse within her, the powerful thrust melding them together in a fusion of ecstasy.

  Collapsing against him moments later, Khat trembled within the circle of Mike’s arms. She felt the sweat beneath her cheek where she lay against his chest, the tickle of his dark, soft hair entangling her nipples. Inhaling deeply, she savored the scent of him, making her feel completely satiated.

  Mike nuzzled his face into her hair, his breath ragged, his hands skimming her shoulders and back, as if soothing her raging, glowing body that shimmered with joy.

  Closing her eyes, Khat whispered, “I love you so much.”

  *

  KHAT AWOKE SLOWLY, still in Mike’s embrace. Light came in around the dark blue drapes of his bedroom. Her long leg was over his, her arm spanning his slab-hard stomach. She lay there, absorbing his warmth and strength through the slow rise and fall of his chest under her cheek. Closing her eyes, she felt a happiness so sharp and clean that she couldn’t recall ever feeling. Even now, there was a soft glow in her lower body beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Mike knew how to love her, make her feel loved, make her feel good about being a woman. He drew the feminine out of her, and she relished every moment of learning about her own body. Khat moved her cheek, feeling him awaken. Mike lifted his hand and stroked her shoulder with his calloused fingers.

  “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world,” Mike rasped, his voice thick with drowsiness.

  Khat smiled. “You’ve never been a bastard.”

  Mike opened his eyes, blinking and trying to throw off his heavy jet lag. “Oh, I have been,” he assured her, amused. Sifting his fingers through her sleek strands, he moved them away from her face. Khat’s eyes were half open, a soft smile on her face. “How are you feeling? Any discomfort?”

  “None. I’m fine. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven or as close as I’m ever going to get to it,” she sighed, content to be stroked by his knowing hand.

  “We’re good together,” Mike agreed, feeling Khat’s satisfaction, making him feel good about himself as a man.

  “I feel so…” Khat searched for the word, her mind still in partial sleep mode. “Utterly satisfied.”

  “Like a snow leopard purring?”

  His fingers skimmed across her back. No longer did she tense or worry what he thought about her ridges of scars. “That sounds perfect,” she murmured.

  “Are you hungry?” And then Mike chuckled. ‘“Let me amend that question. Are you hungry for food?”

  Khat laughed with him and raised her head, drowning in his lion-gold eyes that were still groggy with sleep. “I’m starving.” She saw the happiness mirrored in his expression. Mike was now vulnerable and open for her to read. Her heart opened powerfully because Mike didn’t hide behind his game face. Who he was, he was with her, and Khat found that to be the ultimate level of trust he shared.

  Mike roused himself, removing his arm from around Khat so she could sit up beside him. As he placed the pillows against the brass headboard, he absorbed her morning beauty. Her hair was mussed, a crimson frame around her softened face, those green tourmaline eyes of hers sparkling with love for him. He caressed her cheek and drew the line of her clean jaw with his fingers. “You look like my beautiful, wild desert woman, unafraid to show her naked body to me, and how incredibly sensitive you are to my every touch…” He spoke in a roughened tone as he felt himself grow hard all over again with the sultry look that came to her eyes.

  “If you keep this up,” Khat said, giving him a wicked look, “we are not getting out of this bed today, Tarik.”

  “That’s a thought.”

  She snorted and eased off the bed, stretching and holding out her hand to him. “Take a shower with me?”

  “That’s gymnastics,” he warned her, climbing out of bed, catching her hand.

  “I got the message last night,” Khat muttered. “Just a shower with you. I promise, I’ll keep my hands off you. No messing around.”

  He raised his brows, grinning. “Well, maybe just a little messing around.”

  Laughing as she pushed open the bedroom door, Khat said, “You’re incorrigible, Tarik.”

  Chapter Six

  AS THEY DAWDLED over breakfast of a tagine omelet he fixed for them, Mike watched Khat eat. What a far cry from sharing MREs with her in one of those caves in the Hindu Kush. She sat at his elbow on a stool at the granite island. He wondered if his mother had something to do with the fact Khat’s clothing was feminine. But maybe it wasn’t. All he’d ever seen her in was Marine Corps clothing. “Tell me,” he asked, catching her gaze, “did your father ever let you wear American clothes growing up?”

  “It was a fight. My mother always argued for me. My father felt a lot of teen girls’ clothes were too sexual and too revealing. Or too tight. You know how it goes.”

  “I like what you’re wearing now. Far cry from Marine cammies.”

  Khat chuckled. “Blame Annie. I came home with some jeans, tank tops and that was it. She had a fit about my limited selection of clothes and took me out shopping. I couldn’t even begin to pay for what she bought for me.”

  Mike nodded. “Yes, she’s a tour de force. Never takes no for an answer.” Khat wore a pair of black wool slacks, a soft pale apricot cowl neck angora sweater and small pearl earrings in her delicate lobes. Her hair was loose, shining, the ends curved. She looked delicious. And even though she wore no makeup, Khat needed none.

  “I kept telling her I couldn’t afford what she was suggesting would look good on me.” Khat shook her head and grinned. “You’re right—your mother does not take no for an answer. But she does have a good eye for the colors that looked good on me.” Khat briefly touched the cowl collar with her fingers. “My father insisted I should wear black a lot. I think if he could have hidden me under a burka, he would have done it.”

  “I feel sorry for your mother,” Mike said, before he finished off his huge omelet. He pushed the plate aside, focusing on a stack of toast. Picking up the jar of strawberry jam, he said, “She seems like a nice person. Stressed because of the divorce, but her heart’s in the right place.”

  “We’ve had a number of talks over the past few months,” Khat murmured. She picked at her omelet with her fork. “She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. When she flew down here for a visit last month to meet your parents, I felt like she’d walked out from beneath a dark place. She seemed lighter, was happier. I’ve never seen her smile or laugh so much…”

  “It’s too bad your father couldn’t adapt,” Mike muttered, slathering the strawberry jam on all four pieces of toast. He had them lined up in front of him.

  “You’re right.” But then Khat brightened. “I didn’t tell you, but Annie and Glenna got along like two old dear f
riends meeting once again.” Laughing softly, Khat added, “It was scary. It was like an older and younger sister getting together.”

  “My mother emailed me a photo of them, after they’d met,” Mike said. “She likes Glenna a lot. And they do have a lot in common—Middle Eastern husbands. They can commiserate with one another.”

  “Well,” Khat growled, picking up one of the pieces of toast he’d put jam across, “Your father is night and day different from mine. Bedir is precious.” And then she added in a soft tone, “After I met him? I had this crazy fantasy that he was my real father. I know that isn’t right, but I couldn’t help myself. I thought parents were supposed to love their children, not hurt them like my father did me. I guess it’s my idealism…”

  “Their backgrounds were so different,” Mike said. “Your father came from a dirt-poor village that was run by the Taliban and warred with the nearby Hill tribes after the Russians left. My father comes from a long line of royalty, even though he’s a third cousin in the House of Saud. Bedir was given opportunities your father had to fight to get. It makes a lot of difference, angel. I don’t condone what your father did to you, but I can understand his influences. Nothing was ever given to him.” Reaching out, he caressed her cheek. “And you go ahead and adopt my dad as your own. He does love you like the daughter they never had.”

  Chewing on the toast, she nodded. “Your father was a lifeline for me in so many ways, Mike. And yes, he once told me that they’d wanted a daughter, but Annie never conceived again after birthing you. He asked me if it was all right if he called me daughter. I almost cried when he confided that to me. It made me feel wanted…whole. I told him yes, he could call me his daughter.” She gave Mike a teary look. “You have no idea how much that meant to me, Mike.”

  Swallowing hard, keeping his emotions at bay, he rasped, “I’m sure it did. Because he’s the greatest role model I know for a loving father any child could have. I feel very, very fortunate to have him in my life. He’s given me so much and I’m grateful.”