Delaney's Desert Sheikh (6 page)

Delaney shook her head, not believing the audacity of Jamal. He was as arrogant as they came. In his mind it was a foregone conclusion the two of them would sleep together. Well, she had news for him. It would be a damn cold day in July before she shared his bed.

She snatched her hand from his. “Let me get one thing straight, Prince.” Her breath was coming in sharp; as sharp as her anger. “I have no intention of sleeping with you,” she all but screamed, thumping him on his solid chest a few times for good measure. “I don't plan on being number three with any man, no matter the degree of pleasure. Your body could be made of solid gold and sprinkled with diamonds, I still wouldn't touch it unless it was mine exclusively. Do you hear me? I get exclusive rights from a man or nothing at all.”

His gaze hardened as he stared at her. “I would never give any woman exclusive rights on me. Never.”

“Then fine, we know where we stand, don't we?” She turned around to leave the room.

“Delaney…”

She told herself not to turn around, but found herself turning around, anyway. “What?”

He was frowning furiously. “Then I suggest you leave here. Now. Today.”

Delaney inhaled deep. Of all the nerve. “I've told you, Jamal, that I'm not leaving.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then said. “Then you had best be on your guard, Delaney Westmoreland. I want you. I want you so badly I practically ache all over. I want you in a way I have never wanted a woman. I like inhaling your scent. I like tasting you and want to do so again…every part of you. I want to get inside your body and ignite us both with pleasure. Ever since you got here all I do is dream about having you, taking you, getting on top of you, inside of you and giving you the best sex you've ever had.”

He slowly crossed the room to her. Ignoring the apprehension in her eyes, he lifted his hand to her cheek and continued. “For the two of us it all comes down to one word.
Lust.
So it doesn't matter who or what comes after we leave here. What we're dealing with, Delaney, is lust of the thickest and richest kind. Lust so strong it can bring a man to his knees. There is no love between us and there never will be. There will only be lust.”

He stared deeply into her eyes. “Chances are when we leave here we will never see each other again. So what's wrong with enjoying our time together? What's wrong with engaging in something so pleasurable it will give us beautiful memories to feast on for years to come?”

His hand slowly left her cheek and moved to her neck. “I want to have sex with you every day while we're here, Delaney, in every position known to man. I want to fulfill your fantasies as well as my own.”

Delaney swallowed. Everything he said sounded tempting, enticing. And a lesser woman would abandon everything, including her pride, and give in to what he was suggesting. But she couldn't.

For too many years she had watched her brothers go from woman to woman. She would shake her head in utter amazement at how easily the women would agree to a night, a week or whatever time they could get from one of the Westmoreland brothers, with the attitude that something was a lot better than nothing.

Well she refused to settle for just anything. She wasn't that hard up. Besides, you couldn't miss what you never had, and although she would be the first to admit that Jamal had awakened feelings and desires within her that she hadn't known existed, she could control her urge to sample more.

With a resolve and a stubborn streak that could only match her brother Thorn, she took a step back. “No, Jamal, I meant what I said. Exclusive or nothing.”

His eyes darkened and she watched his lips tilt in a seductive smile. “You think that now, Delaney, but you will be singing a different tune in the end.”

His voice was husky, and the look in his eyes was challenging. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What do you mean?”

His smile became biting. “I mean that when it comes to something I want, I don't play fair.”

Delaney stared pointedly into his eyes, her heart slammed against her ribs, completely understanding what he meant. He would try to wear down her defenses and didn't care how he did it as long as the end result was what he wanted—her in his bed.

Well, she had news for him. Westmorelands, among other things, were hard as nails when they chose to be. They were also stubborn as sin, and some were more stubborn than others were. They didn't back down from a challenge. A light flickered in her eyes. The prince had met his match.

Delaney smiled, and her eyes were lit with a touch of humor. “You may not play fair, but you can ask any one of my brothers and they will tell you that when it comes to competition, I play to win.”

“This is one game you won't win, Delaney.”

“And this is one game I can't afford to lose,
Your Highness.
”

His eyes darkened as he frowned. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

She met his frown with one of her own. “And don't say I didn't warn
you.
” With nothing else to say, Delaney turned, and with her head held high she strutted out of the kitchen and headed to the porch to eat her sandwich alone.

J
amal looked up when Delaney walked into the living room later that evening. War had been declared and she was using every weapon at her disposal to win. She was determined to flaunt in his face what she thought he would never have. Which he assumed was the reason for the outfit she had changed into. There was only one way to describe it—sinfully sensual.

It was some sort of lounging outfit with a robe. But the robe enticed more than it covered. He couldn't do anything but lean back in his chair and look at her from head to toe. A surge of raw, primitive possessiveness, as well as arousal of the most intense kind, rushed through him. He couldn't pretend indifference even if he wanted to, so there was no sense trying. Instead he tossed the papers he was working on aside and placed his long legs out in front of him and gave her his full attention, since he knew that is what she wanted, anyway.

He knew her game. She wanted to bring him to his knees with no chance of him getting between her legs. But he had news for her. He would let her play out this little scene, then he intended to play out his.

The outfit she wore was peach in color and stood out against the color of her dark skin. The material was like soft silk, beneath a lacy robe that gave the right amount of a feminine allure. The sway of the material against her body as she crossed the room clearly indicated she didn't have on a stitch of undergarments. The woman was foreplay on legs.

His groin throbbed as he watched her sit on the sofa across the room from him, real prim and proper and looking incredibly hot. Of its own accord his breathing deepened, making it difficult to pass oxygen through his lungs, yet he continued to torture himself by looking at her.

“So, what's up?” she asked in a deep, sultry voice.

He blinked when it occurred to him that she had spoken, and the sexy tone and the way she was looking at him made him aware of every male part of his body. “I can tell you of one thing in particular that's up, Delaney,” he said smoothly. He may as well state the obvious since it had to be evident to her, even from across the room, that he had an erection the size of Egypt.

She didn't answer him. Instead she smiled saucily, as if she had scored a point. And he had to concede that she had. He wondered if she enjoyed seeing him sweat. He would remember just what she was putting him through when it was his turn to make his move. And when that time came he wouldn't let her retreat. She had started this, and he damn well intended to see her finish it. He intended to teach her a thing or two about tempting a desert sheikh.

The CD he had been listening to stopped playing, and a lingering silence filled the room. She watched him and he watched her. Inside he smoldered, his body was heating to a feverish pitch and from the look on her face she was savoring every moment.

“Do you want me to put on some more music?” he asked, slowly standing, not caring that she could see his obvious masculine display.

After taking it all in, seeing how big he was, she just nodded, unable to respond. The look on her face gave him pause, and he couldn't help but smile. Hell, what had she expected? Granted he'd been told by a number of women that he was very well endowed, but he thought surely she had seen a fully aroused male before.

Crossing the room he walked over to the CD player. “Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?” he asked huskily, in a quiet whisper. When she didn't answer he glanced at her over his shoulder.

She shrugged. He saw the deep movement of her throat as she swallowed before responding. “No. Whatever you decide to play is fine.”

He picked up on her nervousness. Evidently, she didn't have this game of hers down as pat as she thought she did. With five brothers she should have known that a woman didn't stand a chance against a man with one thing on his mind. You play with fire you got burned, and he was going to love scorching her in the process. By the time he lit her fire she would be ready to go up in smoke.

He put on Kenny G and it wasn't long before the sound of the saxophone filled the room. He turned around slowly and walked over to the sofa toward her.
Stalked
over to the sofa was probably a better word. He intended to see just how much temptation she could take.

Coming to a stop in front of her he reached out his hand. “Would you like to dance?” He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed deeply again. Her gaze held his and he knew she was giving his question some thought.

He had an idea what her response would be. She had started this and she intended to finish it. There was no way she would let him get the upper hand, even if it killed her. He smiled. He definitely didn't want her dead. He wanted a live body underneath him tonight when he made her admit defeat.

She slowly slid off the sofa, bringing her body so close to his that his nostrils flared with her scent. “Yes, I'll dance with you,” she said softly, taking the hand he offered.

He nodded and pulled her into his arms. They both let out a deep rush of breath when their bodies connected. He closed his eyes, forcing his body to remain calm. She felt good against him, and when she leaned closer he groaned.

Neither of them said a word, but he could hear her indrawn breath each and every time his erection came into contact with her midsection, which he intentionally made happen a lot.

As Kenny G skillfully played the sax, he masterfully began his seduction to prove to Miss Westmoreland that she couldn't play with the big boys, no matter what her intent. When she rested her head against his chest, he opened his hand wide over her backside, cupping her to him as he slowed their movements even more.

He groaned again as he felt her lush bottom in his hand. He smoothly rubbed his hand over it, loving the way it felt. He decided not to speak. Words would only break the sensuous spell they were in. So he pulled her closer to his swollen erection, wishing they were in bed together instead of dancing, but grateful for what he could get; especially after she had been so adamant about him not getting anything.

When the music stopped playing, he didn't want to release her from his arms. And since she didn't take a step back he got the distinct impression she wasn't ready for the moment to end yet, either.

He knew what he had to do and what he wanted to do. And if tasting her led to other things, then so be it.

He leaned back slightly from her, which forced her head to lift from his chest. She met his gaze and he saw desire, just as potent, just as raw, in her eyes. He had to kiss her.

She must have had the same idea since without any protest her lips parted for him. A ragged moan escaped the moment he captured her mouth in his.

The movement of his tongue in her mouth was methodically slow and she reacted with a groan deep in her throat, which he absorbed in the kiss. He was an expert on kissing and used that expertise on her. He had been schooled in various places but found he had learned more during his stay in the Greek Isles than any other place. It was there he had mastered Ares, an advanced form of French kissing.

Some people preferred not using it because it could get you in such an aroused state, if you weren't careful things would be over for you before you even started. Only men with strong constitutions, those capable of extending the peak of their pleasure could use it. And it wasn't unusual for a woman to climax from the pleasure it gave her. Ares was developed around the belief that certain parts inside of your mouth, when stroked in the right way, gave you immense pleasure. He had never tried it on any other woman other than the person who had taught it to him at the age of twenty-one. It boggled his mind that he had never wanted to try it on Najeen, yet more than anything he wanted to experience it with Delaney. It was something about her taste that made it imperative for his state of mind.

Closing his eyes he took their kiss to another level. He could tell she noted the change but continued kissing him. Moments later he felt her arms reach up and encircle his neck as she became as much a part of their kiss as he did.

Moments later, startled, she pushed back out of his arms, her breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath she took. He wasn't through with her mouth yet. He'd barely started.

“Give me your tongue back, Delaney,” he whispered in a low guttural tone. “Just stick it out and I'll take it from there.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then closing her eyes she opened her mouth and darted her tongue out to him. Angling his head so he wouldn't bump her nose he captured it with his and drew it into his mouth. Slowly, gently, he set out to seduce her with the kiss he now controlled.

 

Delaney heard a soft moan from deep within her throat as she stroked her hands through Jamal's hair. She was in a state of heated bliss. She had no idea what he was doing to her but whatever it was, she didn't want him to stop. There were certain areas in her mouth that his tongue was touching that were driving her insane to the point that the heat between her legs was becoming unbearable.

She felt him rubbing against her and that combined with what he was doing to her mouth was too much. He sucked her tongue deep when she felt the first inkling of desire so strong it shot through her body like a missile and exploded within her.

She groaned, long and deep in her throat. Her body began to tremble. Every nerve ending seemed electrified. Her knees felt weak, her head began spinning and the last conscious thought that flooded her mind was that she was dying.

 

Delaney slowly opened her eyes and gazed up at Jamal. She was draped across him, sitting in his lap on the sofa. She blinked, her breathing was heavy, ragged. “What happened?” she asked in a whisper, surprised that she was able to get the words out. She felt so weak.

“You passed out.”

She blinked again, not sure she had heard him correctly. “I passed out?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. While I was kissing you.”

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes remembering. She may be a novice but she had the sense to recognize a climax when she experienced one. Her first and she was still a virgin. It seemed that every part of her body had become detached, as pleasure the degree of which she had never felt before had flooded through her. It had been just that intense.

She took another deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. She was a doctor, right out of medical school, and fully understood the workings of the human body. All through life she had aced all her biology classes. Under normal circumstances people didn't pass out during a kiss.

She frowned. But what she had shared with Jamal had not been a regular kiss. It had been a kiss that had made her climax all the way to her toes. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was studying her intently. “What did you do to me?” she asked breathlessly, as the aftereffects sent shivers through her body. Her mouth felt sensitive, raw, and his taste was embedded so deeply in the floor and roof of her mouth that she savored him every time she spoke.

He smiled and it was a smile that made her stomach clench in heat. “I kissed you in a very special way.”

She licked her lips before asking. “And what way was that?”

“Ares. It's a very volatile form of French kissing.”

Delaney stared up at him, unable to say a word. When she had entered the room earlier that evening she had thought she had everything under control. In the end he had brought out his secret weapon. But he had warned her from the very beginning that he didn't play fair.

“Is that the way you kiss your mistress?” she whispered, suddenly wanting to know, although she knew how she would feel when he gave her the answer.

His eyes darkened and a surprised look came into his face. “No, I've never kissed Najeen that way. Other than the woman who taught me the technique when I was twenty-one, I've never used it on anyone.”

Delaney blinked. Now she was the one surprised. Not only had he given her the name of his mistress, but had admitted to sharing something with her he had not shared with any other woman. For some reason she felt pleased.

“You climaxed while I was kissing you.”

Delaney's mouth opened in silent astonishment, not believing he had said that. A part of her started to deny such a thing but knew he was experienced enough to know she would be lying through her teeth. She searched her brain for a response. What could a woman say after a man made a statement such as that?

Before she could gather her wits he added, “You're wet.”

She swallowed, the soreness of her mouth almost made the task difficult. She knew what he meant and wondered how he knew? Had he checked? She was sitting in his lap, draped over him in a position that was downright scandalous. Had he slipped his hand inside her clothes and fingered her the way he had done the last time? Evidently the question showed on her face. He responded.

“No, I didn't touch you there, although I was tempted to. Your scent gave you away. It was more potent and overpowering, which is usually the case after a woman has a climax.”

Delaney stared at him, not believing the conversation they were having. At least, he was talking. She was merely listening, being educated and suddenly, thanks to him, was becoming aware of the intensity of her femininity.