He swallowed. “Dr. Rai, I expected a serviceable cotton bra.”
“I like pretty things.”
“Hallelujah.” He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, and a quick flick had her breasts spilling into his hands. “These are even prettier.”
She made a small noise and pushed into him. When he lowered his head and pulled one nipple into his mouth, she arched back with a cry.
Something about driving this smart, beautiful woman wild increased his desire. He wanted to see the firelight awash over her naked body. Her writhing in the night air, desperate for his touch.
He lavished her breasts and taut brown nipples with his teeth and lips. God, he could do this all night. But her body moved against his, reminding him that there was more to explore.
She yanked back, her hands tearing at his shirt. “Off. Now.”
Together they ripped his shirt over his head. Her hands spread across his chest, nails raking his skin. She tugged at the light coating of hair on his chest, then she pushed him back.
His back hit the blanket and she followed him down. Her hands banded the tattoo on his arm, her fingers trailing up the black ink. Her lips were parted as she took it all in.
“Where did you get it done?”
“On Canon IV. Had a little too much kila to drink and lost a bet.”
Her fingers ran from his wrist up to his shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”
He made a humming noise. “I was shooting for tough and masculine.”
She smiled. “Oh, it’s that as well. Strong, virile…”
He let his head drop back. “That’s more like it.”
She leaned down, her lips traveling over his arm, tracing his tattoo. Her teeth scraped over his biceps and he swallowed a groan. He’d never found his tattoo a pleasurable zone before, but the way Eos admired it, worshipped it, had him harder than titanium.
Eventually she moved on, her mouth moving down his chest. He watched her, her dark head bent over him, her bare upper body magnificent in the golden glow of the fire. She made him think of the desert maids the Bedouin on Sha’ra whispered about. The most beautiful of women who lured desert travelers to their deaths in the sands, mesmerized by their wicked beauty.
He let her explore until his hands were twisting in the sand, his control slowly dying away, replaced by a ravening hungerhe’d never felt before. He reared up, dying to have her beneath him.
But first…
He ripped the tie from her hair. Dark tresses fell around her face, the tips caressing his chest.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day.” He positioned it where he wanted it. “You should wear it like this more often.”
She smiled at him. “Got a hair fetish, Phoenix?”
“Only if it’s long, dark, and curly.” He let one strand curl around his finger. “You make me think of some princess, locked away in a desert palace awaiting rescue.”
She bit his bottom lip, pulled it between her teeth. “Are you my handsome prince?”
“Hell, no.” He took a mass of that hair in his hands and pulled her head back. Her neck was bared to him and he nipped at it. At that spot he’d dreamed of earlier. “I’m the dashing rogue who’ll steal you out from under the prince’s nose.”
She laughed, then her voice lowered to a whisper. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Dathan. Girls are always suckers for the bad boys.”
He pushed her back on the blanket and tugged her trousers and lacy panties off, leaving her splayed naked for him. He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. Then he pulled her up to sit. “Turn around.”
She blinked at him but gave him her back. She swept her hair over her shoulder, leaving her back bare.
God, she was beautiful. He skimmed a finger over her mehndi, and she arched into his caress. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, right over a more detailed part of the design. He watched her hands press deep into the sand.
He scraped his teeth over her shoulder. “Let me show you how bad I can be.”
