The Sheikh's Impossible Girl - completed.

Chapter Twenty-One

One kiss. 

How dangerous can that be? It was what she needed more than her next breath. 

Ashley had to feel around, unable to see in the darkness. Shifting closer, tilted her face towards him, feeling his natural body heat, homing into it, then his hand as he cradled the side of her face.

His breath was warm against her skin, brushing his nose against hers.

Ashley had known nothing like it to be replaced with his lips, sending her over the edge, clutching at his bare arm. She felt his other arm above her head, fingers embedded in her hair, his lithe, toned, masculine frame close to hers.

His legs were covered with pants, whereas hers were bare while she was covered with the nightie that she wanted to be ripped off, wanting to feel his flesh against her, spreading her hand over his bicep. Rejoicing in the feel of him, velvet, heated, and also rock hard, his warm breath against her cheek as fingers caressed along her jawline towards his chin.

It was seduction, pure unadulterated seduction, and she was falling into a world of passionate pleasure that rocked through her. She had never felt so alive as if her skin was too tight for your body, breasts heavy, nipples beading, breathing laboured.

"You are the most bewitching creature I have ever met," he rasped near her tingling lips, humming with anticipation, and then his sensual wicked lips slanted over hers. Her breath caught in her tight chest as euphoria surged through her body at his touch.

Slow, teasing, tasting her lips part for his bidding. Fervent at his touch, arching into his body as he shifted, hovering over her. The kiss deepened, more urgent. His tongue flicked across her wet softened lips and slid in, dancing with her tongue, fingers curling tighter in her hair.

Her arm was around his neck, caressing with her fingers, holding him to her. He kneed her legs apart, sinking in closer. Her leg slipped around his, feeling his obvious arousal that thrilled her more. As it had been at the waterhole, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

She aroused him. So that is how it felt, filling her with unbridled bliss, losing herself in the kiss. Him, no thoughts of her own. If he took her now, she wouldn't stop him. Only aware, pure seduction, feeling. He was her prince, and she belonged to him. They belonged together.

Avidly, she kissed him back, fingers now threaded through his hair as they devoured each other, not holding back. Her leg around him tightened as he nestled closer between her legs, arching into him, needing to feel him.

Only to be rolled on top. With a moan he slipped his hand from her hair, down her back, and clamped around her the curve of her bottom, squeezing, pushing her into him. The other stroked her face and tangled into her hair. Her arms stretched out above his head, lost in each other as the weather from hell blasted them relentlessly, as did their passion for each other.

Rolling again under him, twisted up in the sheets of the bed.

Abruptly Tarazi pulled back, breathing laboured as hers was, eyes flying open, still dark, and yet could feel him distancing himself. Fingers brushed across her lips as an agonising letdown flowed through her with a heavy thud. 

Her foggy brain refused to work.

Just a kiss.

Then she realised the silence.

The storm was over. 

Not the one raging inside of her. Tarazi rolled off to her side, fingers touching her hair. "That shouldn't have happened," he mumbled, then the bed moved, as did the bedding, as he climbed out of the bed and headed towards the flap.