Sleeping with the Sheikh: The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior. Brenda Jackson
thought, she explored his wonderful face with her hands, a face that had invaded her dreams in great detail so many nights before—details deeply engrained in her memory and her heart. She traced a finger over the strong plane of his nose, the bow of his beautiful, full mouth, the solid jaw covered by a spattering of whiskers. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him now—he would always be with her, branded into her brain.
Gliding her hands down the column of his throat, she continued on to his chest, pausing when she realized he had removed his shirt, much to her delight. His skin was damp and hot beneath her palms as she set a course across the crisp hair and on to his nipples that peaked into tiny pebbles beneath her fingertips. She traveled down his abdomen, and his muscles clenched when she circled a finger in his navel. Intending to continue her erotic exploration, she slipped her fingertips beneath the band of his jeans, only to have him stop her as he gripped her wrist.
“Raise your arms,” he said.
As if a master puppeteer was controlling her, she complied, leaning back against the saddle for support while he tugged her shirt over her head, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. He ran a fingertip across her chest from shoulder to shoulder, much the same as she had done to him. He traced her breasts with sensuous strokes of his fingertips, with agonizing slowness as he decreased the circles when he reached her nipples.
“You are very beautiful in the daylight,” he said in a deep, slow-burn voice that complemented his avid touch.
“This isn’t fair,” she said on a broken breath. “You can see me but I can’t see you.”
“You only need to feel at the moment.”
No problem, Andi thought as the heat of his mouth engulfed her nipple. She bucked at the pleasurable sensations, giving everything over to feeling. He paid equal attention to both breasts as she molded her hands to his scalp and followed his movements. Then suddenly he raised his head and commanded, “Turn around.”
She did as she was told, bracing her hands on the saddle to regain her ground. Sam tracked his way down her spine, first with his thumbs then with his lips, leaving a trail of wonderful chills in his wake. Tuned in solely to Sam’s sensual torture, it took Andi a moment to realize he had slipped one hand between her and the saddle. She felt the downward track of her zipper and went weak with anticipation, and weaker still when he lowered the denim to her thighs, taking her panties with it. A wisp of warm air whisked over her now-exposed bottom, but it was nothing compared to the heat Sam generated as he pressed more kisses to her lower back, then kissed her bottom.
Andi lowered her chin to her chest, savoring the feel of his mouth, gasping at the tiny nip of his teeth that he soothed with his tongue.
“A very nice dessert,” he added with a low chuckle that sounded from deep within his chest.
She couldn’t argue that point. This was much better than a hot-fudge sundae with whipped cream and nuts. Better than anything she had imagined to this point.
After working his way back up, he cupped his palm between her thighs while feathering kisses across the back of her neck, yet he only toyed with the cover of curls. Overcome with the need for him to pacify the insistent throbbing, she pressed against his hand in encouragement.
Andi couldn’t stifle the moan of frustration when he took his touch away. “Patience,” he scolded. “I will see to your needs but first I must see to something else.”
When she heard the sound of his zipper followed by the rattle of paper, Andi realized that Sam had planned this all along. Planned to make her mindless with wanting despite his initial opposition. And more important, he was ruining her for other men. Convincing her with every kiss, every touch, that no one would ever measure up to him. But she really didn’t care. She only cared about right now, the absolute need, the undeniable ache that could only be relieved by this particular prince.
He was soon flush against her back, returning his hand to the place that wept for his attention. This time he delved into the damp folds until he found her center to caress and cajole with firm yet tender fingertips. She was soon caught up in a whirlwind of sensory details surrounding her—freshly cut hay, mingled with the scent of leather and Sam. She heard his shallow breathing and the sounds of horses chomping their hay. But all sounds, all smells disappeared as he fondled her straight into oblivion.
The climax began to build and build, and she only knew that she wanted him inside her now. Reaching back to grasp his hips, she pulled him forward, and he entered in one sharp, enthralling thrust, bringing about an earth-moving climax.
She turned her face toward him and accepted his deep, penetrating kiss. His tongue captured the rhythm of his body as he explored her eager mouth while he moved inside her, stifling her gasps as he filled her completely.
He continued to stroke her even after her release had subsided. “Again, Andrea.”
“I’m not sure—”
“I am,” he insisted. “You will.”
Amazingly, she did, moments before Sam found his own release. He gripped her hips, and a steady groan escaped his mouth as she absorbed the weight of his body against hers. Burying his face between her shoulder blades, he held her tightly. She couldn’t tell who was shaking more, him or her. They were so close it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. So close that Andi wanted to stay this way forever.
“You take me to limits I have never known before,” he whispered. “I have never known anything such as this.”
Neither had Andi. And she would probably never know anything like it again.
Reality took hold when she suddenly realized that someone had pulled up into the drive. And, considering the familiar sound of the noisy tailpipe, she knew exactly who that someone might be.
“Tess!”
Shoving Sam away with a push of her hips, she yanked the bandanna from her eyes and pulled her pants back up. She fumbled for her shirt, now covered in sawdust and straw, and pulled it over her head.
Awareness finally hit Sam but he seemed in no hurry. “Get dressed,” Andi hissed. “She might come in here.”
“I assume she would put away the groceries first,” he said, taking his sweet time redoing his jeans.
She shoved his shirt at him. “Your assumptions could be wrong, and we’d have the devil to pay.”
He had the gall to grin.
Sam Yaman was much too confident, Andi decided. Too practiced in his efficiency, she thought, when he calmly tossed the condom and package into the trash bin then covered it with a feed sack.
He turned his deadly grin back on her. “All evidence has been disposed of, and no one will know what deeds have been done in this room.”
Andi glanced down at her disheveled clothes and could only imagine how she would look to her aunt. “Guess I could tell Tess that we had an unexpected tornado come through the barn.”
He kicked the door closed, taking Andi by surprise. “We could lock out the world and stay in here the remainder of the afternoon.” He stalked toward her and pulled her into his arms. “After all, we still have much to learn about each other.”
“I’d be willing to spend a lifetime having you teach me.”
His expression went serious. “If only that were possible.”
Suddenly chilled, she backed out of his embrace. “Don’t look so worried, Sam. I told you I don’t expect anything. I was just spouting off.”
“You have no idea how much I wish that we could be together.” Her heart soared, then fell once again when he declared, “But that is not possible.”
She propped a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’ve always believed that anything’s possible.”
“Not in this instance, Andrea.”
She forced