His Christmas Conquest. Maisey Yates
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу His Christmas Conquest - Maisey Yates страница 19
Название: His Christmas Conquest
Автор: Maisey Yates
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781474085274
isbn:
‘Very what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I think it does.’
‘Understanding.’ She gave an embarrassed kind of shrug.
‘What did you think I was going to do?’ he questioned roughly. ‘Carry on as if nothing had happened—kiss away your protests and ignore your obvious reservations? Or maybe you wanted me to fulfil the fantasy of the exotic stranger who ravishes the willing but innocent woman. Who takes away the responsibility so you didn’t have to make the decision for yourself. Is that what you would have liked? It’s a common enough fantasy, especially where desert sheikhs are concerned. Would that have made it easier for you, Livvy?’
She licked her lips. ‘I wasn’t even going to tell you.’
‘No, I gathered that,’ he said drily. ‘So what changed your mind?’
She shrugged again and the blanket slipped down over her shoulders, before she hauled it back up again. ‘I thought it was dishonest not to. I thought you might be one of those men for whom virginity is a big deal.’
Saladin was silent as he considered her words. Was it? Her eyes were wide as she looked at him and he could read the faint anxiety in their depths. He supposed it was. For a man in his position, virginity was an essential requirement of any future queen. But he was not looking for a queen. He had been there, done that. What was it they said in the West? Bought the T-shirt.
His mouth hardened as she held his gaze with those startling amber eyes. Was she seeking reassurance? Holding out for an impossible dream? He felt the hard throb of desire at his groin and shifted his weight. This was a unique situation, but despite his undeniable lust—lust was interchangeable, because there was always another female eager enough to open her legs for him. If it were anyone else, he would get dressed, make a quick phone call and get the hell out of there—no matter how many damned snow ploughs it took.
And that was what he should do—he knew that. Because purity was something he always associated with just one woman—and wouldn’t it dishonour Alya’s memory if he were to take the innocence of another? Every instinct he possessed—except for the sexual instinct—told him to leave now and get away while he still could.
But Livvy Miller still had something he wanted. Something that only she could provide. And maybe he had something she wanted, because surely she didn’t want to carry on like this. Was now the time for a little adult negotiation? If he fulfilled a need in her—then wouldn’t she feel morally obliged to do the same for him?
On her face he could read trepidation warring with desire, and a genuine sense of injustice washed over him. How crazy was it that she had never known the joy of sex? That a woman who was known for her physicality and skill on a horse should have neglected her own body for so long?
He didn’t move—he didn’t dare—because it was vital he didn’t influence her decision, even though he knew that another kiss and she would be melting beneath him. But it had to be her decision, not his. His gaze was unwavering as he looked at her.
‘So,’ he questioned silkily. ‘Do you want me to take your virginity, Livvy?’
LIVVY DIDN’T ANSWER straight away. It seemed like something out of a dream—the powerful sheikh asking if she wanted him to take her virginity, with all the impartiality of someone enquiring whether she’d like a spoonful of sugar in her coffee.
As she stared into the provocative gleam of Saladin’s black eyes, she thought about everything that had brought her to this moment. The public shame of being jilted that had hit her so hard, even though she’d done her best to hold her head up high afterwards. She’d walked away from the world of horses without a backward glance and had started a new life.
Out of a sense of loyalty to her father’s memory and a determination that Rupert’s rejection wouldn’t destroy her completely, she’d done her best to keep Wightwick Manor going. On a shoestring budget she’d worked hard to make her bed and breakfast business a success. But now she could see that she had neglected her own needs in the process. She’d put her emotional life on a back burner, letting her twenties trickle away beneath the hard work of maintaining an old house like this. She hadn’t done dates or parties or make-up—she’d spent any spare money on roof tiles, or getting the windows painted. She hadn’t gone off for minibreaks or enjoyed sunny vacations with girlfriends, drinking lurid-coloured cocktails while they were chatted up by waiters. She hadn’t even tried to find herself a new boyfriend. She’d told herself she didn’t need the potential pain of another relationship.
Yet here she was—naked underneath a blanket while a similarly naked Saladin surveyed her from the other end of the rug. She stared into the dark smoulder of his eyes and wondered how best to respond to his question. She supposed she could say no. Act prim and outraged—and tell him that she wasn’t interested in giving her virginity to him, like some kind of medieval sacrifice. He was certainly sophisticated enough to take it on the chin. She doubted he would feel more than a moment of regret, and she would probably be knocked down by the rush of women eager to take her place.
But it wasn’t quite that straightforward, because she still wanted him. He’d kissed her passionately and made her feel she was part of something magical. He’d made her feel things she didn’t think she was capable of feeling—a powerful passion that had overwhelmed her and a need that had flooded hotly through her veins. He’d set her body on fire. She thought about the way he’d touched her—whispering his mouth over each breast in turn, grazing them with his teeth and making her urge him on with writhing hips. She remembered the way his head had slid down between her thighs and something molten and sweet had begun to tug at the very core of her—something that was making refusal seem like a crazy idea. And she knew something else—that she would never get another chance like this. Desert sheikhs promising untold pleasure didn’t come along more than once in a lifetime.
She stared at him.
‘Yes,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘Yes, I want you to take my virginity.’
His face showed no immediate reaction. The hawklike features displayed no hint of triumph although his lips curved in the briefest of smiles.
‘Come here,’ he instructed softly.
She wondered briefly why he couldn’t come to her, but his words were compelling and masterful and Livvy stood up and began to walk towards him, clutching the blanket against her skin like a makeshift dress. She could feel his eyes burning into her—as if that piercing black gaze was capable of scorching through the wool to the body beneath. Her footsteps faltered as she reached him, uncertain about what to do next, but he reached out and slid his thumb over her ankle, massaging briefly against the jut of bone there, before beginning to stroke his way up her calf. Livvy swallowed as pleasure began to ripple over her skin. It seemed such a light, innocuous movement to such an innocent part of the body and yet...yet...
‘Saladin,’ she whispered.
‘Shh.’
The back of her knee was next—a tiny circular movement that must have made her loosen her grip on the blanket because he gave it a single tug and it slid to the ground, leaving her standing СКАЧАТЬ