Wrapped in Pleasure (21 page)

She pulled in a deep breath, trying to control her reaction to him. She tried to think about her fiancé, the man she was to marry, but the only visual that formed in her mind was that of the man staring back at her.

She blinked, noticing his lips moved, and realized almost belatedly that he had spoken. “Excuse me, what did you say?” she asked, once she found her voice to do so.

“I said we’re here. At my place.”

She looked out the window and saw that they had arrived at Trump Towers. Surprisingly, the driver had already parked the car at the curb and was opening their door. All of that had happened while she had sat there staring at Monty like a woman who’d lost it.

She couldn’t help wondering if all women responded to him this way or whether it was her degree of inexperience that was bringing on these sorts of reactions.

Pushing all those thoughts from her mind, she climbed out the car still holding his hand. “I intend for you to have a marvelous time this evening, Jo.”

She glanced up into his eyes and her heart pounded. Her gaze shifted to the smile on his lips which looked devilishly sexy. She had a feeling Monty didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep. And as much as she wanted to experience more exciting things, she had a feeling that his ideas of a marvelous time was something she might not be quite ready for.

Rasheed glanced over at Johari as he took a sip of his wine. They were seated across from each other at the dinner table and had been engaged in intense eye contact all night. It was as if they were saying with their eyes what their mouths refused to say. They wanted each other.

To be totally honest, he had a feeling Johari didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t want him to forget she was engaged to marry, yet he could read in her eyes a desire that could make his blood simmer.

She was a very beautiful and desirable woman, but he was discovering another side of her that she was slowly exposing to him. For years she had hidden behind the mask of being the perfect daughter of King Yasir and was never given the time or the chance to just be herself. For some reason he wanted to give her that time. Maybe then she would settle
down and step into her role as his wife and accept the life they would share together.

“Of all the places you live, which one is your favorite, Monty?”

Her question pulled his thoughts back into focus mainly on her. He wished he could tell her Mowaiti was his favorite and that being around his people would always be special to him. But then over the years, in the United States, he had accumulated a number of friends he enjoyed visiting on occasion. And then there was his home on a secluded island between Brazil and Argentina near Rio de Janeiro.

“I commute to too many places to have what one could consider a favorite. However, I own a place in Brazil that I love to travel to and spend time there whenever I can.”

She did not need to know that Raul Santini, the man being tapped as Argentina’s next president, was a very good friend of his and a close friend of her brother, as well. As a teen Santini had also attended the private academy in France.

He leaned back in his chair. “Would you dance for me again tonight?”

He loved watching her move her lithe body and could vividly recall what seeing her on the dance floor—performing her mating dance—had done to him. Her eyes glimmered. “Are you sure that you want me to?”

“Yes, I am positive.”

She smiled brightly. “I love to dance.”

He figured as much, just as he assumed her dancing in public was probably frowned upon by her family. But he had no problem in her performing just for him. He watched as she pushed away from the table and he stood, as well. Taking his wineglass, he led her through his living room and then to the balcony.

The night air was warm, sensual; it pricked at the lust that
had formed around his edges. The desire that was rousing his middle. Her scent added to the atmosphere and made him want her that much more.

He stood back and watched her slip out of her shoes before moving toward the console on the wall. The skirt she was wearing tonight was a little longer in length than her minidress so chances were he wouldn’t see as much thigh. But he believed what he didn’t see would tantalize just as much as what he did see.

When she indicated she was ready to begin, he flipped the switch for the music while taking another sip of his wine. She threw back her head as the upbeat tempo washed over her and then she began moving her body to the beat.

He stood there and watched as she once again danced to a different song but basically executed the same moves—one in particular that was calling out to him in a huge way. With every dip and roll she made, his lower body reacted accordingly. He was transfixed in place and knew that after they married, he would have her dance for him each and every night. Seeing the smile on her face, the laughter in her eyes, the sensuous movement of her body was simply priceless.

She closed her eyes, which he thought was a good thing. If she were to open them and look at him there was no way she would not detect the lust flickering in the depths of his eyes or the huge bulge behind his zipper. Neither was he trying to hide. Both were something she needed to get used to seeing if this was the type of dance she liked to perform. They were the kind that showed she was a woman who knew her body and was quite comfortable with using it to lure a mate.

Moments later when the tempo of the music slowed down, she paused to catch her breath. The timbre of her fast breath
ing exhilarated him even more. It was the same sound he would expect her to make after sharing a mind-blowing orgasm with him.

She opened her eyes and stared over at him. He met her gaze. Held it. At that moment something sizzled between them, something that he could no longer deny. With the ease of a man who knew exactly what he wanted, what he intended to do to get it, he placed his wineglass on the table and moved toward her. She had done something no other woman had done. She had stolen his soul.

Riotous curls framed her face and fell past her shoulders. Her hands were at her sides, her bare feet crossed at the ankles. From the look in her eyes he could tell she was nervous. Not fearful. Just nervous. He could also tell that she desired him and it wasn’t the desire of a young woman who didn’t know or recognize her feelings and emotions.

At that moment he knew he would have to rethink his reservations regarding the differences in their ages and her inability to pleasure him. She might be young but she was still a woman capable of handling him. Already she had successfully tied him in knots. None of his experienced mistresses had the ability to do that.

He came to a stop in front of her. “Do you know what type of dance you performed on the dance floor tonight and last night?” he asked.

She shrugged. “No, it’s just a dance I’ve watched others do.”

He nodded. “It’s a mating dance, Jo.”

Surprise lit her eyes. “A mating dance?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets or he would have been tempted to reach out for her. “Yes, a mating dance, and I’m answering the call.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t know. It was not intentional.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m answering.”

She took a step back. “But you promised that you would not forget that I have a fiancé, Monty.”

He stared at her with a degree of restraint that surprised himself. “I haven’t forgotten, Jo. However, I intend to make sure that you do.”

H
e was going to kiss her and instead of resisting when he began lowering his head, she leaned up on tiptoe and met him halfway.

The moment his lips whispered across hers, she felt something akin to pleasure creeping up in every part of her body, and when their mouths touched, her senses were overtaken and shattered. Immediately she dismissed the thought that she was promised to another.

It started out as a slow, deep and gentle kiss with him placing fingertips on her cheeks as if getting to know the texture of her skin, the shape of her face and the sound of her breathing. She automatically responded to his tenderness as desire thrummed through her, inflicting every nerve, every limb and every muscle. Then in a move that made her moan, his tongue lashed out and began stroking hers in a way that enticed hers to join in the play. Working solely on instinct,
she followed his lead while at the same time marveling in his taste.

A multitude of feelings and sensations rammed through her, making her whimper. And then when he angled his head and deepened the kiss she shuddered and became ensnarled in a degree of desire that stunned her, had her moaning deep in her throat. This kiss was just as thorough as the one last night, but he had thrown in an element that once again displayed his skill and mastery at seduction. Each stroke of his tongue increased her torment, while at the same time enticing her to keep her lips locked to his.

When the intensity of the kiss increased, certain parts of her mouth seemed sensitive yet hungry for his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck at the same time he tightened his arms around her waist to pull her closer. Instinctively or purposely, the move made her realize the degree of his desire for her when his engorged erection pressed hard against her, sending a tingling sensation at the juncture of her thighs.

Heat was pouring through her, entrapping her senses with every flick and lick of his tongue. A need, as sensual and primitive as it could get, raced along her nerve endings, became absorbed in her skin, and weakened her knees while wreaking havoc on all her body parts.

His kiss had gone from gentle to deep to outlandishly greedy, and his mouth became even more demanding, stirring every sensation embedded within her core. Her rational mind pushed at her to stop this madness, but something refused to let her do so. She was driven by passion instead of logical reasoning and accepted that this wasn’t madness at all but unadulterated gratification of a kind she’d never experienced before.

So instead of fighting it, she embraced the moment and decided to deal with the consequences later. She felt herself
falling over the edge and there was nothing she could do to stop it. So she leaned in closer to his tall, strong form and continued to enjoy what they were sharing.

There was something about being in Monty’s arms that made her feel feminine yet protected, but not in a suffocating sort of way, not overbearing. There was something comforting about his desire. The way he could stroke her wants and longings, fuel the flames, make her yearn for things she hadn’t ever thought about. Make her want to do things she would never have considered doing until she met him.

For two weeks she had wanted to be independent, enjoy her life to the fullest. She didn’t just want to be the youngest daughter of King Yasir or the future wife of Sheikh Valdemon. She had wanted to be Johari Yasir in a way she had never been before. She had wanted to do things she’d never done before without anyone watching, protecting and judging. For the first time, she felt a sense of freedom by stepping out on her own.

And then Monty had entered the picture. The only things she knew about him were that he was from here in the States, he was a highly successful businessman, he was wealthy, handsome and he wanted her. And she wanted him, as well. The man who was showing how much pleasure could be shared when two people’s lips and tongues touched, stroked and entangled…like theirs were doing at this precise moment. The man who was showing just how she could feel his warmth and his heat from being held in his arms. Was it wrong to want, to desire and to experience this with him? To have, to hold and to pleasure?

When he slowly pulled his mouth back, ending the kiss, she automatically dropped her face upon his chest. His hands cupped the back of her head in a display of tenderness so profound she couldn’t stop the shivers from moving through
her body. His hands shifted and began to slowly caress her back as they both continued to pull in deep breaths. She closed her eyes, thinking the way she had responded to him was outright scandalous, totally outrageous. But she would do so again and again. She was filled with so many emotions, too numerous to name but all stirred by him.

“Jo.”

There was something about the way he said her name that sent trembles rippling through her body, shivers of passion escalating through every limb. Instead of answering she leaned back and looked up into his face, met his gaze. What she saw was intense heat, blatant desire and everything else that told her she was a woman that he wanted. It was there for her to see. Unhidden. Blatant. His features all but spelled it out to her.

She had a feeling that it was his intent for that kiss to be just for starters. How could he want her so much? Surely he could tell she had no experience with this sort of thing and was merely following his lead.

“Yes?” she whispered, as sensations threatened to overwhelm her at the thought that he wasn’t through with her yet.

She had a feeling there were more kisses in store for her and that he had no qualms about moving things to another level. She might be a virgin but when it came to what men and women did together intimately, she wasn’t clueless. Although she had to admit this was the first time she had felt so much tingling in certain parts of her body, especially the area between her thighs. Monty had accomplished just what he’d said he would do, which was to make her forget that her future was already planned with another man. A part of her knew that everything she envisioned sharing with Monty were things that she should wait and share with the man she would marry.

Too late, she thought, as she traced her bottom lip with her
tongue. She could still taste Monty there. It was a taste like no other. And then there was that steam of heat he emitted that seemed to touch her flesh, reminding her she was a living, breathing woman being sexually awakened for the first time.

He reached up to frame her face with his hands while staring deep into her eyes. “Come fly away with me. Let me introduce you to fun of a different kind. A very sensuous kind of fun,” he whispered in a voice that intoxicated her senses.

“Fly away with you?” she asked, needing to make sure she had heard him correctly. She didn’t repeat the words he’d said about introducing her to fun of a different kind. A sensuous kind of fun. The thought of that sent passionate shivers up her spine.

A heavy silence fell between them as she stared up at him with her heart thumping wildly in her chest. And then he spoke again, to respond to her question. “Yes, I want to take you away, Jo. Spend time with you. Do things with you.”

She suddenly felt dizzy and her heart began pounding faster. She could imagine what things he wanted to do with her. He was a wealthy international playboy, whose business had him jet-setting all over the world. He was used to getting any woman of his choosing, and for some reason he had decided he wanted her. Why he had made that decision she wasn’t sure when it was obvious she lacked the experience he was probably used to. Evidently he wanted a change of flavor and saw her as a novelty. But then, didn’t she see him as a novelty, as well, after living such a sheltered life?

Sensuous fun.

The idea of engaging in an affair with him was shocking and she should be recoiling at the very thought. But if she didn’t jump at the chance now, when would she have another opportunity? There was no doubt in her mind that Sheikh
Valdemon would only consider her as his personal possession. A woman whose main purpose was to birth his heir. She was someone he was to pamper, coddle and treat like the queen she would be. Her husband-to-be would not give her the consideration Monty was offering. He would have mistresses to perform that task. He would expect her to be happy and satisfied with a loveless and passionless union. But she wanted more. She wanted passion even if the thought of ever being loved by Sheikh Valdemon was hopeless.

“Would it sway your decision if I promise to let you decide what activities you would want to participate in?” he asked, reclaiming her attention.

She wondered if he considered sharing a bed an activity. “No matter what they are?”

He nodded. “Yes, no matter what they are.” And as if he’d read her mind he added, “And when we’re in residence anywhere, you will be given your own bedroom until you decide differently.”

“And if I never decide differently?”

A smile touched his lips. “You will.”

His statement, spoken with such confidence, pretty much said that he saw her as a challenge he intended to overcome. A woman he planned to seduce. “I just met you yesterday,” she said softly, reminding him.

“And I just met you yesterday, as well. You’ve kept a lot of information about yourself private and so have I. If it will help matters I will tell you everything you want to know about me, but then I’d expect you to do the same. Otherwise, I’m Monty and you’re Jo.”

His hands then tightened around her waist. “I’m also a man who wants you but is willing to wait. A man who wants to take you places, will make sure you enjoy yourself immensely. I would never force myself on you, I would never
take what you don’t give, and I will keep you safe. So will you fly away with me?”

Instead of giving an answer, she moved away, crossed the room to look out the huge window that showed New York—The Big Apple. The same one she had taken a big chunk out of last night and today with all the excitement she’d had…thanks to the man who she knew was watching her closely.

When she heard him making a move toward her she quickly turned back around and held up a hand. “No, please stay over there, Monty. I can’t think when you’re near me.”

A sexy smile touched his lips. “All right.”

She turned back to the window frowning. She wondered if this was one of those times when Cel would have cautioned her about giving too much information. Possibly. However, in this case she couldn’t help it since what she’d told him was the truth. She couldn’t think when he was near her. And now the same man who could overpower her senses wanted to whisk her away in his private plane with a guarantee for some sensuous fun.

And she was leaning toward taking him up on his offer.

Would she accept his offer or would she turn it down?

That question ran through Rasheed’s mind as he took a sip of his wine and glanced across the room at Johari as she stood at the window deep in thought.

As the future king of Mowaiti, his expectations for his future bride would be for her to turn it down. She had already violated protocol by even being alone with him, allowing him to kiss her not once but twice and being anywhere unchaperoned and without a bodyguard. However, he had an unsettling notion that she would accept. It seemed that she had no problem being rebellious, breaking rules and placing herself in situations he could only define as inappropriate.

But then on the other hand, a part of him, the part that was
deeply attracted to her beauty and was lusting after her body, hoped that she
would
fly away with him. He was more than ready to introduce her to all those things he would have taught her anyway after they’d gotten married. Her defiant behavior as well as his intense desire for her made waiting for the wedding no longer an option.

He wanted her in his bed now.

“Monty?”

He glanced over at Johari again. Met her gaze. Felt her heat. Could almost taste it. He wanted to taste it. Intended to taste it. “Yes, Jo?”

He watched her breath in deeply. Watched how her breasts moved as she did so. An image popped into his mind of those breasts, uncovered, exposed, bare, and ready to be claimed, tormented and devoured by his mouth.

“I’ll go with you but only on one condition.”

He stared at her, slightly annoyed that she thought she could set stipulations. “And what condition is that?” he asked, taking another sip of his wine.

“That you teach me how to please a man.”

He cleared his throat after nearly choking on his wine. “What did you say?”

She didn’t speak for a moment. He figured she was trying to get past what was probably a shocked look on his face. “I said that I will go with you if you promise to teach me how to please a man.”

He swallowed. That’s what he thought she’d said. He had planned to do that anyway, but to hear her suggest it was sort of unnerving. Women groomed to be wives didn’t ask such things. They didn’t even think it. “Why?” he asked, slowly crossing the room to her, needing to look in her face when she explained herself.

He came to a stop in front of her. Her eyes were as bright
as the sun rising over the Persian Gulf and as serious as a heat wave in the Sahara. “I will be getting married soon.”

He nodded, thinking that he of all people knew that. “And?”

She looked away briefly and then directed her eyes to him. “And the more I know, the more my husband will appreciate me.”

His brows rose. “And why wouldn’t he appreciate you? You will be his wife.”

She hesitated before giving him an answer, and he figured she was trying to decide how much information to share with him. “It will be an arranged marriage, which is not uncommon in my country. The man I am to marry will be allowed to have a mistress, as many as he wants. Although it is our way, I’m too possessive to accept something like that. I thought I would be able to, however, I know I won’t and unfortunately, it will cause problems with my marriage.”

Yes, it will cause problems
, he thought. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest she get over it because he
would
have a mistress. In fact he would have more than one. No wife could compete with a mistress when it came to bedroom skills and shouldn’t even try. Everyone had their roles. A wife was a wife and a mistress was a mistress. A man would not expect his wife to behave like a mistress.