Chapter Thirty-Five
It’s dark out by the time Kai arrives at the suite, throwing his suit jacket across a chair as he strides confidently into the dimly-lit room. I’m curled at the far end of the sofa, reading my book by the light of a table-lamp, the only light illuminating the room.
‘Honey, I’m home,’ he purrs as he leans down to kiss me, a little more chastely than I’d like. Lowering himself to the sofa beside me, he loosens his dark coloured tie, leaning his head back, arms following suit and pulling me into the crook of his arm.
‘You look done in.’ He makes a vague sort of sound in answer, mouth twitching and threatening a smile. ‘Hard day at the office, dear?’
His amused eyes open slowly. Sitting up, he leans his torso over me, reaching for my glass of wine from the side table and taunting me with the scent of his cologne.
‘Don’t tell me, the boss has been riding your arse again,’ I say as he brings it to his mouth.
He laughs a little, coughing as he sips, his eyes sliding to the book in my hands.
‘Office erotica? To get you in the mood? Are you’re sure you don’t harbour some dirty delightful fantasy of banging your boss?’
I smile enigmatically, I hope, in return. I sodon’t need to begotteninto the mood. If only he knew how I’ve been on edge and half-horny since I got here. I’d thought an afternoon alone in a five-star hotel would be nice: a light snack and a little sunbaking by the pool, maybe an afternoon siesta and plenty of time to prepare myself, to beautify, to lotion and potion, as girls do.
I did all that and more, even going as far as to style my hair into effortless waves, if effortless results in arm cramps.
But the whole time, through the afternoon light, through dusk until now, the darkness of the evening, I’ve been a mess. A yearning, hot mess. Our last time together may have ended awfully, but the lead up? I can’t begin to explain how he made me feel. The glimpse at his dark side, his jealousies. How he said I was his obsession, how he’d never be able to get enough. His spanking me to the edge of orgasm, the agony and the ecstasy, his fucking both my body and head. How can just thinking about it make me feel empty with need?
And this afternoon, though I’ve tried, I’ve thought of little else because, God help me, I’d let him do it all over again.
‘You’ve gone a delicious shade of red,’ he murmurs, amused, lifting me from my sensory marinade. ‘I must’ve interrupted a particularly torrid chapter.’
‘I’m deeply offended,’ I reply, albeit a little breathlessly, uncovering thebutt-crackcover of the book in question. ‘This is a historical romance. Very tasteful, I’ll have you know.’
Okay, so I might be stretching that genre a bit. And it probably wasn’t a good idea to try and distract myself with erotica and wine. I’d opened a bottle from Kai’s extensive collection as dusk fell, and after two glasses, convinced myself I should greet Kai draped across the sofa wearing nothing but high-heels and a smile. My Dutch courage lasted as long as it took for me to shimmy out of my poshest pyjama pants. Besides, what would’ve happened if Rashid had walked in first?
‘It’s all beginning to make sense,’ he says, grinning. ‘We’re back to coats over puddles and courtly gentlemen making a leg. I could work with that. Heaving bosoms encased in tight corsets and—’
My interjection is several octaves higher than I’d like. ‘Bosoms! Where are you, like, way back in the day?’
‘I like corsets,’ he answers simply. ‘I’d love to see you in one.’ His gaze flits over my body, skin burning from just his glance. ‘Corsets compliment all figures, but yours . . . you’ve got that starlet from another era look. Sweater girl-chic.’ A slow blush heats my face as his finger trails between my breasts, my mind a mixture of longing and wondering. More specifically, wondering if I can get a corset in Dubai.
‘Read some to me.’
I blink heavily, my mind on delay.
‘Your book,’ he prompts, staring at me with those intoxicating eyes. He brings my glass to his plump bottom lip again, and as he swallows, I shake the daze away.
‘Sorry, what was that?’
‘Where you left off. The next paragraph. Read it to me.’
I slide my hair behind my ear, the words on the page unseen as I glance down. After a moment, I begin.
‘“There was something about the chain she wore around her neck. It was nothing of startling worth, though he’d known many a man adorn a woman in fine jewels in the quest to possess the ruby between her legs. No, the piece was ornate but... intimate. The way the small brilliant lay in the hollow of her throat. Someone had enjoyed fastening the gold links beneath the weight of her hair, lips following fingers to close. Cover a woman in fine cloth and jewels. Some do so as a show of wealth, others as an inducement to bed, but mostly, jewels are about possession. Lay a woman captive, wreathing her in chains of silver and gold. Drape stones of colour between her breasts. This woman belonged to someone. This woman had known possession.” ’
I busy myself for a moment, placing my bookmark between the pages before closing the book in my lap. All the while, I’m aware of his eyes on me, aware also that it could have been so much worse. If he’d arrived home while I was reading the previous chapter, I’d be describing to him, in detail, how the gentleman rode the serving wench like a horse.
‘It’s an interesting concept, don’t you think?’
Being rode like a horse?I raise my head and his cognac-coloured eyes are as intoxicating as his voice is low and rich.
‘Every woman wants to be desired.’ My own voice is a bare whisper as I try not to read between the lines.
‘Desire is the longing for something. Possession is infinitely more complicated than that.’ His quiet laugh is rueful, his gaze moving to the study of the glass he holds in his hand. ‘Erotica turns you on?’
