LITMIR.BIZ

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hand caught her wrists. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

      She smiled then, knowing that her desire was reflected in her smile, confident now, despite her lack of experience. ‘Certain, Christopher,’ she said, and this time he believed her. His gaze was riveted on her hands as she untied the sash, letting the wide trousers drop to the sands. A sharp exhale again. He said her name, a low groan as he looked at her, clad only in her chemise and her short dizlik drawers, tied with lace at her knees. ‘Do you think this is a suitable costume for swimming?’

      ‘There is only one way to find out,’ Christopher said, closing the gap between them. Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms and began to wade into the oasis.

      Laughing, Tahira put an arm around his neck. Laughter and passion were a heady mix, she discovered as she looked into his eyes, bluer than the water. A blue she would never forget. He held her high against his chest. She dared to brush the soft smattering of hair with her free hand. Rougher than she had expected, his skin hot to the touch. ‘Kiss me, Christopher,’ she whispered, her mouth a fraction from his.

      He let her go, but only to pull her tight up against him. The water lapped around her knees, droplets splashed her back, but she barely noticed as he wrapped his arms around her. ‘Your wish is my command,’ he whispered. And then he kissed her.

      She kissed him back with a new abandon, desire fuelled by confidence, not of experience but of certainty. He wanted her. That was all the encouragement she needed to explore his body, to run her hands over his bare skin, the rippling planes of his muscles, the skin first smooth then rough with hair, hot, then damp with sweat and the cool waters of the oasis. His breathing quickened like hers. His touch became more urgent as hers did, his hands on her back, her bottom, her breasts. His mouth on hers, deep, scorching kisses that made her moan, that made her frantic. His mouth on her breasts now, that sweet tug on her nipple that made her insides knot.

      Their clothing was soaked through. Pressing herself against him, she could feel the hard ridge of his erect member, the potent symbol of his desire. That most intimate of unions was forbidden in every way, it was the line Christopher would never permit himself to cross, but she had already crossed a line. She would begin her wedding night a virgin, but she would be no innocent. There were so few ways in which she could rebel. It gave a sweet, lethal edge to her passion, to do this. One of the few choices she could make. Her secret. The man who would own her could never have this.

      She kissed the man she had chosen with renewed fervour. Kissed his mouth and then his throat, and then his chest. His nipple peaked when she sucked on it. He moaned. He said something in his own language as he scooped her back up in his arms, staggering through the deeper waters to the cascade, soaking them both with spray in his hurry. She braced herself for the heavy fall of water, but it was brief. Behind the waterfall was a cave, the floor soft sand. Christopher set her down, and the kissing started again.

      More kisses, and more as they sank to their knees, as he tore her chemise from her, to burrow his head between her breasts, cupping her, teasing her nipples, taking her to new heights of delight. If passion was a colour it would not be the scarlet red of heat, it would be the blue of Christopher’s eyes, the gold of his hair. Glittering colours, sharp-edged, unforgettable.

      They were entwined on the sand now, locked together, face-to-face, but as his hand trailed down her belly to the waistband of her drawers, once again he paused. ‘Are you sure you want to carry on?’

      Her nerves returned as she reached to undo his belt, but she knew hesitation would be fatal, and she was determined that her satisfaction would not be one-sided this time. She tugged it open, shaking her head at him when he would have stopped her. ‘Christopher, I promise you, I want this.’

      His chest expanded as he exhaled. His lids flickered closed for a tiny moment. ‘You know I will not...’

      ‘I know,’ Tahira said, sliding her hand inside his trousers before he could stop her. Silk and iron, the book had said, but as she wrapped her hand around the thick girth of him, there was no mistaking this for anything but hard, hot man.

      ‘Wait.’ Gently removing her hand, Christopher eased her out of her drawers, quickly ridding himself of his own trousers, before lowering her on to the sand. ‘By the stars, but you are beautiful,’ he said, lying down on his side to face her.

      They were both completely naked. The sand was cool and gritty on her flank. The cascade was a shimmering, watery curtain which hid them from the world. It was intoxicating. Taking her cue from Christopher, Tahira ran her hands over his body, drinking in every detail of him, too absorbed by the rush of desire for shyness to take hold. Her touch made his breathing fast and shallow, just like hers. When he pulled her to him, her body instinctively moulded itself to his. Their kisses were languorous at first, their hands tentative, learning each other’s shape, but every touch seemed to ignite a tiny fire, and soon every flame was connected up, blazing trails from her breasts to her belly to the tension building inexorably between her legs.

      When he touched her there, slid his fingers inside her, she shuddered, but when he tried to ease her on to her back she resisted. ‘Together,’ she said. ‘I want—please, Christopher, together. I know we can—that we cannot—but...’

      ‘We can. Do this much. Together,’ he said raggedly. ‘But I simply cannot...’

      ‘I know.’

      She wrapped her hand around the hard length of him again, feeling the blood pulse as she stroked him slowly. Their mouths met in a tongue-tangling kiss, and her eyes closed as she surrendered to the rhythm he set, reassured by the way their breathing syncopated, that everything she was feeling he was too. She lost herself in his touch, in the tension mounting inside her, in the answering throb of him, the indescribable feeling of her climax, slowly building momentum, until it rushed up on her sending her soaring, making her cry out. Christopher’s harsh groan as he rolled away from her to spend himself added a new layer of satisfaction, and an odd sense of disappointment. Her body craved something more. Her body craved what he would never, for reasons which were still unfathomable, permit himself to give her.

      Tahira forced herself to sit up. She did not trust herself. She would not tempt him to do what he was so certain would destroy him. Who was this man, that she had shared the most intimate of moments with? For a few seconds, watching his chest heaving, his breathing slow, she felt as if she was looking at a complete stranger. Then he opened his eyes. He sat up, pushing her tangle of damp hair back from her cheek and kissed her slowly, and he was Christopher again. Her dream man, who had tonight made another of her own dreams come true.

      ‘Thank you,’ Tahira said.

      He laughed gruffly. ‘No, thank you. That is not what I had in mind when I brought you here.’

      ‘I meant thank you for granting another of my wishes. You have gone to a great deal of trouble to make them very special. And I know this wasn’t what you had in mind, I know that all you planned was my swim, but it is sharing all of this, together, that makes it so perfect. I hope you don’t regret it?’

      His expression became serious. ‘Not if you don’t.’

      ‘Never.’ She smiled shyly up at him. ‘I thought the book exaggerated, but quite the contrary.’

      Groaning, Christopher wrapped his arms tightly around her. ‘It would be better for both of us if this were not quite so—if I did not find you quite so—if our passion were not so—Tahira, you are soon to be married.’

      ‘But not just yet,’ she said fiercely, burrowing her face into his chest. ‘Please don’t tell me this is wrong. I am not yet another man’s property. This cannot be wrong, Christopher, it feels too wonderful to be wrong. Please, let us not spoil the perfection of this night.’

      He heaved a sigh, but he nodded. ‘You haven’t even had your promised swim yet.’

      Relieved, she leaned in and kissed him. ‘And you always keep your promises. Shall we?’

      * * *

      Tahira stepped into the waterfall, letting out a squeal of shock as

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