Sheik by Connie Mason Read Free Book Online

while I get dressed,” she demanded.
    Jamal stared at her with smoldering eyes. “I’ve already seen your breasts and tested their firmness. They are exquisite.”
    Excitement shuddered through him as he recalled how smooth and pliant they had felt against his palms. He stared at her chest, his eyes glazed with lust. He felt himself harden when he saw a plump nipple peep out from between her spread fingers, but he knew this was neither thetime nor place to explore his unaccountable need for the Berber vixen. Soon, he vowed to himself, he would know every luscious inch of Zara, daughter of Youssef.
    “Get dressed,” Jamal ordered in a voice made harsh with desire.
    Realizing Jamal had no intention of turning his eyes from her, Zara presented her back and quickly pulled on her shirt, then her
djellaba
.
    The elegant curve of her back was as sensually enticing as her breasts, Jamal mused as he made a visual exploration of the smooth expanse of her silken flesh. He couldn’t wait to have her writhing beneath him, giving him untold pleasure. But he would give her pleasure, too. More pleasure than she had received from her Berber lover.
    Once her body was decently covered, Jamal found he could breathe normally and think clearly again. He was surprised that the sight of Zara’s nude body had such a profound effect on him. He was no stranger to a woman’s body. He used his own concubines frequently and with great zeal. When he was sailing the high seas he put into ports often enough to slake his lust with prostitutes. Yet Zara excited him as few women had in more years than he cared to count.
    He wanted her
.
    Zara read Jamal’s mind as effectively as though he had spoken aloud. His expressive dark eyes were a mirror into his soul. Had they met under different circumstances, she might have been attracted to him. Whereas most Arab men wore thick, black beards, Jamal’s face was smooth and golden rather than swarthy. His nose wasstraight, his forehead high, his chin square and determined. He was a man to make any girl’s heart beat faster … any girl but her.
    Jamal noted Zara’s preoccupation with his face and grasped her arms, bringing her hard against him. “Do you like what you see, vixen? Without your betrothed to pleasure you, you’ll be needing a man soon. Perhaps I shall make you wait,” he said with typical male conceit. “Our joining will be all the sweeter for it. But if you find waiting is painful, you have but to tell me and I’ll ease your suffering.”
    “Braying ass. Conceited dog,” Zara hissed. “You are the last man I want in my bed.”
    “We shall see,” Jamal said complacently. He stared at her lips, lush and red and enticing, so close he could see little drops of moisture clinging to their surface. He battled against the need to taste their sweet fullness, goaded by the heat that had been simmering inside him from the moment his hand had closed upon her soft breast. The battle was lost before it had even begun.
    Zara realized a moment too late what Jamal intended. Grasping her head between his large hands, he held her steady as his mouth came down hard on hers. She opened her mouth to voice a protest and found it filled with the bold thrust of his tongue. She tensed, hands pressed against his shoulders. A strangled sob caught in her throat, suppressed by the fierceness of his kiss.
    Driven by some insatiable need, Jamal cupped the twin moons of her buttocks, molding heragainst him. The rise of his manhood stirred against her and suddenly he needed more. Holding her with one hand, he pushed inside her clothing with the other to caress her breast, testing the fullness of it, palm rubbing over the nipple.
    He shook with a desire so potent it convulsed the length of his body. He wanted her naked beneath him, open to him in all ways. He wanted to teach her all the erotic subtleties of loving he’d learned from his travels abroad. He wanted her as his love slave, obedient to his every whim.
    He