I'm afraid of what he'll say in return.
SAFIYA NEVER THOUGHT about sex. It was not that she found sex frightening or sickening, but because of what she had witnessed in her childhood, she had never found herself desiring it either.
Until now.
She had expected the sheikh to draw her close by taking her hand, but instead she felt his fingers curve around the sides of her waist. Her breath caught, and fire caressed every inch of her skin as his fingers tightened.
The sheikh slowly drew her close, and her heart began to pound.
Faster.
Harder.
And as the space between them disappeared, and her dark eyes lifted to his, it was also then that the sheikh's head slowly descended, and their lips finally met.
Safiya.
To be able to even think of her name felt an indulgence, and Altair found himself indulging in it over and over as he had his first taste of her mouth.
Safiya. Safiya. Safiya.
He fought to keep the movement of his lips slow and soft. Gentle. He didn't want to frighten her, but controlling himself was proving a lot harder than he imagined. She tasted too fucking lovely. Sweet. And innocent. But most perturbing of all, she tasted his.
The way her lips trembled. The way she whimpered, and the way her arms circled around his neck as he deepened his kiss—-
All of it whispered to his heart that she was his.
His.
The princess was his. Safiya...was his, and as the knowledge sank in, Altair's hunger for her exploded—-
Safiya could only jerk in surprise when the kiss abruptly deepened...just as the sheikh hauled her close, and as her entire body fell against his—-
Hard.
Every inch of him was so, so wonderfully hard, and best of all, his hardness against her softness—-
It felt good.
So, so unbelievably good that Safiya couldn't help but dig her nails into his back and moan against his lips—-
But it wasn't enough.
She had thought it would be, but it wasn't. She wanted more, and somehow, even though her mind didn't know what 'more' meant exactly, her body seemed to do so, and—-
Oooooooh.
Safiya slowly began rubbing her body against the sheikh's.
What. The. Fuck.
Altair's first instinct was to pull away. It was one thing for them to kiss, but this?
This would only further complicate things, but fuck, fuck, fuck—-
It had been too long, dammit, and he couldn't even remember the last time he wanted a woman this much.
Just too fucking goddamn long—-
And when he felt her nipples start to pout against his chest—-
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
His hands, she thought dazedly, were so much larger than hers. Harder. Stronger. Beautiful like the rest of him, and when she found herself telling him exactly that—-
Altair nearly choked.
Beautiful?
Was she blind?
Did she not see the long, jagged scar that marred half of his face? She was either a liar or an idiot, but when he fucking looked into her eyes—-