Bound to Seduction (6 page)

“My…my breasts.”

He breathed hot against her right nipple.
She trembled, moaned, arched her back, and closed her eyes, and as
her breast came closer to his mouth, he groaned himself, then
licked at the tip and finally drew her into his mouth.

“Oh God,” she muttered. Her updrawn knee
pressed against his side. The hem of her dress fell to her hip,
exposing her long, toned thigh, dragging his attention from what he
was doing.

He wanted his mouth there. Wanted to brush
her skin from hip to mound. To trace the line of her sex with his
tongue and stroke her deeply until she came in his mouth.

His heart beat fast and hard as he moved to
her other breast, as her fingers tightened in his hair, as she
arched and offered more of her luscious body to him. Her nipple
hardened in his mouth, and she groaned in pure pleasure. He
answered by circling the tip with his tongue and asking, “What
else?”

“Touch me,” she said. “I want you to touch
me.”

“Where?” He scraped his teeth across her
nipple ever so slightly. “Tell me where.”

“Oh…” Her whole body shook. She lifted her
hips, lowered them. Aching, he knew, for his touch between her
thighs. And he wanted to give it to her. That and so much more.

“Tell me, Mira.” He sucked harder on her
breast, drew a long, shuddering groan from her throat.

How on earth did this woman think she was
not desirable? Her reactions alone had him lingering on the edge of
control. There was passion inside her long denied and dying to be
set free. A passion he was bound to corrupt with his wicked,
lascivious ways.

His arousal began to dim, but he forced the
thought away. Today was not about guilt. It was about pleasure.
About making her feel good. The corruption…what it would do to
her…what it would do to him…he’d worry about that later.

He brushed his fingertips across her updrawn
knee and licked her nipple again. “Tell me, Mira. Should I touch
you here?”

Her knee fell open. “Yes. God, yes.”

He skimmed his fingers up her thigh, to the
hem of her gown resting against her hip, just barely covering her
sex, and breathed heavily against her naked breast as he looked
down her body. “Here?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Tell me,” he whispered, feathering his
touch along her inner thigh. “Tell me where.”

She groaned in frustration, lifted her leg
higher, and as she did, her dress fell against her mound. He drew
in a breath as her white, cotton panties came into view. Even
through the thin fabric he could tell she was swollen. Hot. Wet.
And he groaned himself because now he knew for sure she wanted him.
Wanted him with the same burning desire that was consuming him.

He looked back at her face. Her eyes were
tightly closed, but her lips parted in pleasure as he traced his
fingers down her inner thigh, stopped short of touching her
overheated flesh, then back up again. “Tell me, Mira.”

“I want you to touch me between my legs,”
she managed, a flush rushing over her cheeks with her words. “I
want you to touch me everywhere. Anywhere.” She lifted her hips
closer to his hand. “I want you to make me come. Right now.”

Yes, yes. Finally, yes
.

Mira barely believed the words spilling from
her mouth.

But she didn’t stop them. She was too swept
up in some all-consuming desire she couldn’t remember feeling
before. Not for her ex-boyfriends. Not even for Devin.

It had
to be the magical effects of the opal. That was the only thing that
made sense. The heat from the stone burned against her chest,
warming her skin. But she really didn’t care how or why it was
happening. All she could focus on was the sinfully erotic way
Tariq’s fingers were finally—
finally
—skimming her sex, sliding beneath her panties and into her
wetness, then back up again to circle her clit and drag a moan from
her throat.

She wanted to pry open her eyes, to see if
he was watching her reaction, but she was almost afraid to look.
Because if she didn’t see desire in his eyes…if this was only
duty…

The heat began to dim, the arousal dampen.
He’d said he wanted her, but that could just be a line. Like the
guy who pretended to have a good time on a first date, promised to
call, and then never did.

This is not a date
.

“Stay with me, Mira.” Tariq’s husky voice
cut through her musings, pulled her back from the edge. “Lift
up.”

Eyes clenched tightly closed, she lifted her
hips. Sucked in a breath as he dragged her panties down her
thighs.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Mira. Look
at me pleasuring you.”

The erotic vision his words conjured sent
heat careening through her veins once more, and she blinked in the
sunshine and looked down her body, only to experience that rush of
heat all over again when his fingers brushed her sex.

Lust darkened his eyes. Sweat glistened on
his brow. And the way he was watching her—as if he wanted to taste
her right where he was touching her—made her whole body
tremble.

He palmed her breast with one hand, slid one
finger of his other hand lower, inside, and she tightened around
him as he knelt on the ground between her legs, as he slid his
finger out, then back in deeper, as the warmth of his breath rushed
over her clit.

“Do you want me to taste you, Mira? Do you
want my mouth here?”

He nuzzled her sex, and she was so caught up
in the lust, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She
pushed up to her elbows, marveled at his dark head between her
thighs, tightened around his fingers as he pressed back in with
two. “Yes. Yes, I want that.”

He lowered his head, laved his tongue along
her clit, circled and swirled as he thrust in and out with his
fingers, drawing her closer to oblivion. She groaned, dropped her
head back, lifted her hips so he could stroke her deeper, so he
could taste more of her. His fingers were thick, his tongue wet and
so damn salacious flicking her most sensitive spot. Her climax
raced closer. She wanted to delay it, wanted to prolong the
pleasure but knew she wouldn’t be able to. This whole day was more
erotic than anything she’d experienced in her whole life.

“Come for me, Mira. Come in my mouth. Let me
taste your release.”

Electricity gathered in her pelvis and
exploded in a burst of lightning, lancing through her limbs to
steal her breath. Every muscle in her body spasmed as the orgasm
hit. Her elbows went out from under her. White-hot ecstasy consumed
every part of her.

Her back landed against the chaise. She
spiraled through an abyss of sensations, then slowly sound
returned, followed by the warmth of the sun against her skin, the
brush of the warm breeze, the feel of Tariq, whispering hot words
against her sex she didn’t understand. He smoothed his fingers
through her wetness, bringing her down slowly, pressing his lips to
her hip, her lower belly, her breasts all over again.

Her chest rose and fell as she tried to suck
air. Stars fired off behind her closed eyelids. She blinked several
times, finally pulled her eyes open, and stared up at the thatched
roof above.

Tariq moved up her body and into her line of
sight. She looked into his dark eyes, saw satisfaction and heat. A
heat that reignited a burning passion she thought he’d
quenched.

She lifted her hand, brushed it across his
rough cheek and, before she thought better of it, lifted and
pressed her mouth to his.

This time, he drew in a surprised breath,
and she wondered if she wasn’t supposed to kiss him, if it was
against the rules. Then he opened for her, groaned into her mouth,
and whatever worry she’d had fled. He wrapped his arms around her,
pressed his body into hers and stroked her tongue deeply, roughly,
as if he’d been wanting to kiss her from the start. As if he
couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to let her go.

Her fingers rushed up into his hair, fisted.
Her mouth turned greedy against his. She opened her legs, felt his
erection press against her already overheated sex, and couldn’t
wait to feel him inside her.

That—what he’d done for her…the way he’d
pleasured her—had been amazing. No, not amazing, electric,
incredible, like nothing she’d ever experienced. He knew exactly
where to touch a woman and what to say to make her come apart. But
it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted all of him.

“Tariq…” She kissed him deeper, changed the
angle of the kiss, lifted her hips to show him what she wanted. He
answered by pushing up on his hands, rubbing his very aroused
erection between her legs, making her moan with the promise of
ecstasy all over again.

But before she could find a way to free him
of his pants, he broke the kiss and stared down at her, his chest
heaving.

His face
was flushed with desire, his lips swollen from her mouth, his eyes
as dark as she’d ever seen them. She knew he wanted her. She
could
feel
that want
swelling against her sex. But there was something else in his gaze,
something that stopped her from ripping his clothes off and having
him.

“
Hayaati
… I
can’t. Not like this.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about.
Didn’t know what that word meant, but she loved the sound of it
falling from his lips. Loved the way he was looking at her, as if
he couldn’t control his desire. As if she was dragging him to the
edge as he’d done to her. “Tariq—”

“Did I pleasure you?” He cut her off so
quickly, she faltered.

“
Yes.
Yes
,” she
managed, trying to ignore the look. Trying to ignore the shot of
worry it sent spearing into her chest. He’d pleasured her more
thoroughly than anyone ever had. She lifted her hips again, tried
to get him to move against her. Grew hot at the thought of
returning the favor, of drawing him deep into her mouth and
swirling her tongue over his cock until he exploded in her mouth.
Then she wanted to ride him until they both came a second time. “I
want to taste
you
now. I want
to make you feel as good as I do.”

He pushed back farther from her body. “That
is not part of the deal.”

Deal?
Deal
? Screw the
deal. She didn’t care that she’d never felt this kind of desire
before, that she’d never needed to be the one giving the pleasure
instead of the other way around. But it was all she could think
about. All she could feel. She wanted to be the one to make
him
shudder in release, to
feel
his
orgasm
consume him, to know
she
was the one
who’d given him pleasure as no one else had ever done.

She
lifted her hips, grew more frustrated when he eased off her body.
When he put space between them. He shook his head again, brought
her fingers to his lips, kissed each one gently. “Not now,
hayaati
,” he
said as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll never survive. You have to go
back before it’s too late.”

She didn’t know what he meant. She just knew
she wanted him. But when he lifted her hand toward her chest, fear
replaced worry. “Tariq, wait—”

“Rest. Recover. And when control has
returned, think about what is right. Think about what is wrong. I
do not want to see you destroyed by the opal. Your wish hasn’t
begun. There is still time to save yourself from my curse.”

He pressed her fingers against the Firebrand
opal before she could stop him, brushed them slightly over the
stone, and then the world swirled around her, a vortex of smoke and
fire and heat and flame. She felt herself flying, felt her hair
tumbling across her face, the wind brushing her cheeks. And then
everything darkened and cleared, and she looked around to find
herself lying on the couch in the middle of her apartment.

She gasped, sat up. She was wearing the same
jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing before, but somehow she knew
everything she’d experienced had been real. Knew she hadn’t
imagined what had happened, because her breasts still tingled from
Tariq’s kisses, her sex was still wet from his mouth, and the
desire she’d felt was still zinging through her nerves, making her
want with a blinding fierceness.

She stood on shaky legs, checked the
kitchen, her office, the bedroom. But he was nowhere to be found.
Disappointment rushed in on a wave, consumed her from the inside
out.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tried to
make sense of what had just happened. He didn’t want to see her
consumed by the opal? What did that mean? Her fingers grazed the
chain, circled around to the back of her neck. And as her
fingertips brushed the clasp, it opened as if on cue. The necklace
landed in her lap with a soft thud.

Surprise
registered. The shop owner had said she wouldn’t be able to take
off the necklace until her wish was fulfilled. Was Tariq releasing
her from her wish? Could he
do
that?

Then his last words registered. Words that
sent a chill down her spine.

There is still time to save yourself from my
curse
.

* * *

Darkness
surrounded Tariq. The cell was cold, the floor covered in a layer
of dirt. As he slid to the ground, leaned his back against the
frigid stone wall, and closed his eyes, he told himself he’d done
the right thing. Leaving before he corrupted Mira’s soul was the
only choice he
could
have
made.

It was one thing to corrupt the soul of a
human who went looking for trouble. But Mira was different. If he
tainted Mira’s soul, he’d be no better than Zoraida. And even he
wasn’t willing to become like her. Not even for his own
brothers.