I had no chance to answer, with the sheikh taking my lips in a kiss that started soft and gentle before deepening into something that we both needed. I could feel him holding back as our bodies pressed closer, could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his whole body trembled with the effort of being gentle.
He undressed me slowly. Reverently. Pressing kisses to each inch of skin as it was revealed—my shoulder, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. By the time he finally eased the dress away, I was trembling so hard I could barely think.
I wanted to cover myself. Wanted to hide. But the way he was looking at me—like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—made it impossible to move.
“How beautiful you are.”
The roughness of his voice had my cheeks burning. I didn’t know where to look, what to do with my hands. I had never felt so exposed in my life.
“Please.” It was the only word I could manage. “Please, Mik’hail.”
Something in his expression cracked, and then he was kissing me again. Longer. Deeper. And so, so fiercely that I could only gasp for air as his lips finally trailed down my throat.
He touched me with the kind of care that brought tears to my eyes. He took his time, driving me slowly and exquisitely mad with his hands and his mouth until I was shaking beneath him, breathless and aching and half out of my mind.
“Mik’hail—” His name came out broken. Desperate. “Please—”
“Please what?” His voice was low. Dark.
But I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t form the words. All I could do was pull at his robes, trying to bring him closer, needing to feel his skin against mine.
And of course he understood.
If I paused to think about it, my sheikh had always understood what I wanted before I even needed it, and when we were finally skin to skin, the warmth of his body had me gasping anew. He just felt so powerfully solid and real—
Oh, Mik’hail.
I thought I knew what to expect. But I realized I didn’t know anything at all the moment he claimed me his. The pain was a sharp sting that had me jerking at first, but because Mik’hail was perfectly still and patient, the discomfort gradually faded while I became increasingly aware of how beautifully strange it was, to be finally one with the only man I had ever loved...and the only one I’d love for the rest of my life.
The sheikh’s movements started out like most of his kisses. Soft, slow, and gentle at first. Mik’hail waiting with the patience of a lion, biding his time while he focused on driving me crazy. He didn’t speed up even though I found myself driving my nails into the panes of his back. He kept that slow, devastating rhythm until I was clutching at his shoulders, gasping his name, my whole body wound so tight I thought I might shatter.
“Mik’hail...”
And finally, oh finally.
It was like finally seeing the real him underneath the courteous manners and warrior-like strength. Once his control broke, he was all danger, power, and speed, and to feel his powerful body shudder against mind as pleasure crashed over us at the same time—
I thought I knew what it meant to fall apart because of what happened between us in the dorm. But I realized once again how little I knew. In fact, I was beginning to think I didn’t know anything at all...since I honestly thought it was all over, only to feel the sheikh cupping my face—
“I want you again.”
My eyes widened. “A-Again?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head weakly. “I can’t—”
“You can.”
He shifted, and I gasped, and oh, he was right. I could.
I did.
Again.
And again.
Mik’hail was relentless. Every time I thought we were finished, every time I tried to catch my breath, he would find some new way to make me gasp and tremble and cry out. His hands. His mouth. The way he moved inside me like he was trying to memorize every response, every sound, every way he could make me fall apart.
