Modern Romance May 2015 Books 1-8. Кейт Хьюит

Modern Romance May 2015 Books 1-8 - Кейт Хьюит


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her hips upwards again while grazing her fingertips teasingly over the crown of his manhood.

      ‘You don’t tell me what to do in bed,’ Jaul husked.

      With a lightness of heart she hadn’t experienced in a very long time, Chrissie laughed out loud. ‘Lie back for me for just five minutes...and I promise you, you’ll do whatever I want,’ she whispered provocatively.

      ‘Not tonight.’

      His hand skimmed down over her tummy and between her slender thighs. A fingertip traced the wet, silky entrance to her body and her hips jackknifed, hunger rising so swiftly and powerfully that she almost cried out.

      Jaul shifted down the bed and found her damp, heated core with his tongue and this time she did cry out, her breathing fractured, her throat convulsing as the incredible pleasure blasted her into another reality where blissful ripples of sensation engulfed her, locking out absolutely everything else. Her head twisted back and forth on the pillow, perspiration breaking on her skin, her nipples peaking as his fingers delved deep into her and his talented tongue tormented her into ecstasy. The climax hit her like a speeding train, snatching her up and throwing her high.

      ‘That was...amazing,’ Chrissie mumbled weakly, the words slurring as he lifted her up and flipped her over to settle her down on her knees.

      ‘I aim to please, habibti.’

      Having positioned her on the bed to his satisfaction, Jaul drove into her tight, wet channel and the sensation of being stretched to the utmost was so irresistibly seductive that a strangled sob of encouragement escaped Chrissie. She was out of control and revelling in the awareness. A frenzy of need gripped her as he surged and ebbed inside her sensitive sheath. With every plunging entrance, her heart slammed against her ribcage and her excitement climbed another notch. He ground his body into hers and then ratcheted up the tempo with long, smooth, deep thrusts until she was literally sobbing out loud with tormented pleasure. Her spine arching, she pushed back against him, guided by an impatient frantic need she could not withstand. As that reached a peak, she went careening over the crest into an orgasm that flooded her with joy, satisfaction and warmth and listened to Jaul groan out loud in completion.

      ‘Now that was truly worthy of the word amazing,’ Jaul rasped as he turned her back over and dragged her back into the hot, damp embrace of his lean, powerful body.

      He had both arms anchored round her, imprisoning her as though at any moment she might make a break for freedom. But Chrissie was exactly where she wanted to be. Strong emotions were still churning round inside her. Jaul had said that hoping was not a sin and here she was caught up in hoping too, she acknowledged ruefully. For the first time she understood herself: she still loved Jaul and in admitting that she was shedding the heavy burden of past memories and disillusionment to focus on the new start he had promised.

      ‘So...er...you mentioned another wedding,’ she reminded him gently.

      ‘If you think you could bear it,’ Jaul murmured cautiously, tensing as she buried her head below his chin, wondering whether she was driven by affection or avoidance.

      ‘I think I could, particularly if it was more like the dream wedding I never got,’ she confided softly.

      ‘The dream wedding?’ he prompted blankly.

      ‘Because you didn’t want us to attract too much attention I wore a plain black dress at the embassy do,’ she reminded him. ‘This time around I’d like a proper wedding gown...and, oh, yes, I want my sister to come over for it.’

      ‘That could all be arranged. Western wedding gowns are very popular here.’

      ‘Seriously?’ Chrissie looked up at him with surprised turquoise eyes.

      The sudden charismatic grin Chrissie had almost forgotten flashed across his lean dark features. ‘Seriously...but it will have to be a rush job. My advisers are hoping we can stage this the day after tomorrow—’

      ‘The day after tomorrow?’ she yelped in disbelief, pulling free of him to scramble out of bed naked. ‘I need to phone Lizzie and warn her!’

      Pleasantly surprised at the ease with which she had given her agreement, Jaul rose at a more leisurely pace. He laughed as he listened to Chrissie chattering to her sister on the phone line in the next room and even paused for thirty seconds to appreciate the picture his wife made standing there stark naked, her slender, graceful figure gleaming porcelain pale and pink in the sunlit room. Concerned that one of the staff might enter without offering sufficient warning, he fetched a towelling robe from the bathroom and held it out while Chrissie dug her arms into it with a lingering smile in her eyes that held his attention like a magnet. He strode back into the bedroom and dug his mobile phone out of his jacket to call Yusuf.

      But his father’s former aide was unavailable. Yusuf’s manservant informed Jaul that his employer was in the USA visiting his daughter and that it would be two weeks before he was home again. Jaul grimaced, knowing it would be inappropriate to try and tackle such a controversial subject with Yusuf over the phone. He had no choice but to await the older man’s return. And while he waited, more and more questions and inconsistencies would pile up in the back of his mind. Even worse, he acknowledged with sudden grim awareness, if Chrissie proved to be telling the truth without exaggeration on all counts, he would suddenly be the guilty party, who had virtually destroyed her life, and how could he ever live with that conclusion?

      * * *

      Chrissie put the phone down and breathed in deep, astonished to recognise that she had been gabbling to her sister like an overexcited teenager. As she asked herself what had come over her, she lodged by the window, which was bounded by a stone balcony and a glorious view of the trees flourishing in the garden below. Was she a total idiot? she was suddenly demanding of herself. She was still in love with Jaul and she wanted to give their marriage the best possible chance to thrive that she could...but.

      And it was a very large ‘but’; she had to be realistic and stop behaving like a dizzy adolescent. She needed to view their situation as it was and not wrap it up in fancy trappings, for the surest way to a failed marriage would be setting out with too high expectations only to be rewarded with a slow, steady process of disenchantment.

      Jaul wasn’t in love with her. Sexual chemistry wasn’t love even though the powerful attraction that had first drawn them together was still red hot. Other facts spoke too loud to be ignored, however, she reflected unhappily. Jaul had come to London to see her in the first place because he’d wanted a divorce and he had only changed his mind about that after he’d realised that he was a father.

      He only wanted to stay married to Chrissie now because she was the mother of his children and Tarif was the heir to his throne. Love and affection had nothing to do with that decision. Jaul was prepared to behave as a husband and father, not only to meet the conservative expectations of his people, but also to provide the twins with a stable and respectable home background. It was a praiseworthy motivation but it did not mean that Jaul was happy about embracing Chrissie as his wife and queen or that he would willingly have selected her for that role now.

      After all, what choice had Jaul had? His passionate temperament was uniquely misleading. He was a wildly passionate male but, at heart, he was ruled by cool intellect and practicality. The marriage he had chosen to put behind him and dismiss had come back to haunt him in the worst way and now he was trapped with a wife he couldn’t divorce without shocking and disappointing his people. Fate could well be forcing him to make the best of a bad situation. Her skin turned clammy while she pondered that humiliating theory but she knew that it would be stupid to ignore that wounding analysis of their marriage and even stupider to assume that sharing Jaul’s bed meant anything more to him than the casual and convenient slaking of sexual need. Sobered by those reflections, Chrissie tightened the sash on the oversized robe and went back into the bedroom, relieved to appreciate that there were two en suites attached to it. Just at that moment she needed her own space and peace in which to rebuild her poise. Home truths, she thought reluctantly, were necessary to keep her feet on the ground but, my goodness, they could hurt...

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