The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [30]
“I do.” He reached out and unfastened her cloak. It slipped from her shoulders to the floor. “Undress.”
She stood unmoving. “Is he watching us?”
He was swiftly disrobing. “Probably.”
“From where?”
“The tapestry. The lion’s eyes.”
She wheeled to face the tapestry. In the dimness she couldn’t discern anything but an outline of the lion. “Are you sure he’s there?”
“No, but I’m sure he’ll be there sometime tonight.”
Nasim was there, watching. Now she could see a moist glittering where the lion’s eye should be. The helplessness she felt suddenly changed to fury. She would not let him win this victory. “I don’t care. Do you hear me, Nasim? I’m not doing this because you force me. This is by my will.” She pulled her gown over her head and kicked off her sandals. “I feel no shame. The shame is yours. Watch all you please, you foul old man.”
“Selene.” Kadar was behind her. His hands fell on her naked shoulders. Warm, hard hands that sent a shock through her.
She whirled and buried her head in his chest. The dark triangle of hair felt springy against her cheek. “I hate this,” she whispered. “He makes me so angry I want to punch a stick through that tapestry right into his eye.”
“Ignore him.” He lifted her head and looked into her eyes. “Or show him that he truly has no power over this.”
“Of course he does. I was lying.”
“Then make it truth.” His head lowered slowly until he was only an inch away. His tongue touched her lower lip. “Help me and I promise you’ll forget he’s watching.”
Her lip felt strange under the warm moistness of his tongue; heavy, swollen. Her breasts, pressed against him, were beginning to feel the same heaviness. “What do you want me to do?”
“Be at ease. Relax.” He pulled her closer, his hands sliding around to knead her back. “It will be easier if you—”
“You’re not relaxed.” She could feel his arousal pressing against her, hard, demanding.
“I don’t have to be. You’ll recall, it’s vitally necessary that I’m not.”
His hands slipped down to cup her buttocks. “I’m going to lift you. Put your limbs about my hips.”
“Why—” She instinctively clasped him with her legs as he sank deep within her. Her eyes closed and she lost her breath. The sensation was tight, stretched, hot. “What a peculiar—” He was walking. She grabbed hold of him. “Where are—”
“Here.” He pressed her back against the tapestry. “Nasim can’t see here. Only straight ahead.”
Nasim. She should be grateful he couldn’t see, but she couldn’t seem to think. She was only aware of Kadar inside her and the soft tapestry against her buttocks.
And then she was aware of nothing but sensation, as Kadar began to lunge in and out of her with frantic force.
Need. More. Move.
She was making soft, frantic cries deep in her throat as the fever grew.
He reached between them, his thumb seeking, finding.
Her teeth bit into his shoulder to stifle a scream as his thumb pressed, teased, rotated. “Ah, you like it?”
She couldn’t answer. The muscles of her belly were tensing and releasing with every movement, and the tension was mounting, growing.
“Kadar, it’s—”
“I know.” His hand left her and he was driving harder, faster. “Let it go,” he said through his teeth. “I’m trying, but I don’t know if—”
Release. More fiery and climactic than anything that had gone before. She clutched him tighter. Tears streamed down her face.
“Good,” he gasped. “Oh, God.” He plunged to the quick.
She was vaguely aware of him shuddering, flexing within her, as she desperately held on to him.
His chest was laboring as he fought for breath. “Are you all right? Did I—hurt you?”
She didn’t know if she was all right or not. She felt as if she had been through a storm that had uprooted everything she knew and tossed it to the winds.
“Selene?”
“Not hurt. I’m—It was—”
“Hush. It will be fine soon.” He left her body and shifted his hold. He was carrying her toward the divan.
Softness beneath her. Kadar beside her, cradling her.
“Before it was pleasant,” she whispered. “That was not—pleasant. It felt—I was not myself.