deny it.
Her voice was strained when she asked, “Are you going to move, Asad?”
“You wish for me to do so?” he taunted.
The clenching of her inner body was his only answer, but her eyes demanded he listen.
So he did, making love to her with less finesse than need. And instead of being bothered by his loss of control, he reveled in it. This was what had been missing for so long in his sex life.
Primitive, ungovernable passion.
In this, Asad’s Bedouin heritage ruled, not the urbanity Badra had demanded.
His pleasure built like a volcano inside him, his balls burning with the need to erupt. He gritted his teeth, holding off the explosion as he did his best to bring his aziz to climax one more time.
Their mouths joined in a primal echo of what their bodies were doing, sweat slickening the skin between them as he thrust into her.
He felt her climax like it was his own and pleasure boiled up out of his cock with all the power of Mt. Vesuvius.
He shouted his triumph even as she continued to convulse around him.
He broke the kiss, still buried deep inside her. “You are mine.”
“Your possessive side is showing again,” she gasped out, not sounding like it bothered her in the least.
“I am a sheikh. What do you expect?”
She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with sleepy satiation. “Nothing but what you are. I promise, Asad.”
He nodded, knowing her further assurances that she understood the parameters of their relationship fully this time around should please him. But a tiny, primitive part of him did not like it and he was not at all certain why. However, the knowledge that she had no hidden agenda and was not trying to get anything out of him with her capitulation into his bed did something in the region of his heart he would have thought impossible.
It moved him when he had been certain his diamond-hard heart could not be moved.
Carefully withdrawing from her body, he rolled to the side and disposed of the condom. Then he pulled her close so she was completely wrapped in him. Despite the niggle of worry at his response to their lovemaking, for the first time in more years than he cared to count, Asad fell asleep feeling replete.
He woke hours later to Iris trying to leave his bed. She’d pushed his arm off her and was trying to scoot away from him without making a sound.
He slipped his hand back over her stomach, tightening his hold on her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my room.”
“No, az—” He broke off before saying the word she’d denied him. “Little flower, you belong here.”
“I don’t, Asad.”
“You do.” And he set about proving it to her, claiming her with his body and words until she was sobbing her pleasure out in his arms.
Afterward, they slept again, but he woke her in the early hours of the morning.
She blinked up at him with question. “Time for me to go back to my bed?”
No, damn it. If he had his way, she would not sleep another minute in that tiny bed. “Time for a bath.”
“But …”
“Come with me.”
He led her to the cave his grandfather had never revealed to the rest of the encampment, the place Hanif had only shown to Asad after his marriage to Badra. The private bathing cavern for the lion of the Sha’b Al’najid.
Carrying a high-powered flashlight, Asad led Iris through a complicated series of passages in the caves beyond the chambers for male and female communal bathing. Whenever they came to a fork, he took the one marked with a peacock feather carved in the rock.
He stopped in a rounded cavern. “This is the personal bathing chamber for my family.”
“Nawar didn’t mention it.” Neither had Genevieve.
It didn’t surprise her that the sheikh and his family had their own bathing chambers, but there seemed to be an air of secrecy about it.
“Nawar will not be told of this place until she marries and only if she remains with our tribe after the wedding.”
Wow, okay. So, definitely a secret. “What about the rest of your family?”
Asad flipped a switch and soft golden light filled the space. “Only my grandparents and parents are aware of its existence. This was my grandfather’s true gift to my grandmother upon their wedding, his way of giving her something to make up for all that she left behind.”
Iris gasped, unable to believe what her eyes told her she was seeing. “How?”
“In the beginning, Grandfather used real torches to light the space, but I had a solar lighting system installed.”
She hadn’t meant the lighting, but that was pretty cool, too. It was the rest of the space that had her so amazed.
“How did he have the tiling done?” she asked in awe as she took in the cave that had been made to look like a five-star European spa.
The single hot-tub-size pool in the center had a mosaic tiled surround wide enough to sit on comfortably and dangle one’s feet in the steaming water. An ornate wrought iron handrail led into the water, implying steps had been added inside the natural pool.
The cave walls had been smoothed and tiled with another mosaic of Eastern colors and design, a giant peacock centered on the wall opposite the cavern opening. Ornate marble benches graced the area between the wall and two sides of the pool. And on either side of the opening, there were six-feet-high wrought iron shelving units stocked with fluffy Turkish towels, robes and every bathing necessity and luxury Iris could have imagined.
And even some she wouldn’t have.
There was even a fully tiled oversize shower stall off to one side. With no door, or curtain, it was clearly intended to be used in luxurious privacy.
“How … the shower … it’s not possible.”
Asad smiled, pride gleaming in his espresso gaze. “For a Bedouin man with an engineering degree, such things are possible indeed.”
“Your grandfather has a degree in engineering?” she asked, feeling more and more like Alice having dropped through the rabbit hole.
Asad nodded. “I told you he’d gone to university in Europe. Many of the modern improvements in our camp are of Grandfather’s making.”
“He is an amazing man.” Just like his grandson.
“He is.”
“He acts like he knows only the way of the desert tradition.”
