Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Why was he looking at her like he wanted...to do the same weird things with her?
“Kyria.” The sheikh’s tone was grave and hoarse, and the light in his beautiful dark eyes glittered like diamonds wrapped in midnight.
“Come here.”
Said the flame to the moth, lion to the lamb, Kyria thought hysterically. And now, it was Malik to Kyria—-
But even knowing this, she found herself taking that one small step—-
Her feet crossed the doorway of her bedroom, and his arms closed about her.
He had hugged her earlier, but this...was different.
This was...a man’s embrace.
Her body stiffened with shock, but instead of letting her go, the sheikh only pulled her closer, every inch of his hardness now pressed against every soft, pliant curve of her body.
Fire engulfed her senses, and she squeezed her shut, her body trembling at the sheer effort she had to expend to swallow back the whimpers that filled her throat.
“You know those weird things you’re talking about...” His lips touched her hair, just a few inches above her ears. “They have another name.”
His mouth moved down, and even as she started to tremble, and her fingers started to curl into fists against his chest—-
His mouth continued to move, all the way down, until it reached her ear, and Kyria could no longer hold back—-
“It’s called sexual attraction.”
A whimper escaped her lips.
“And I feel it, too.”
Her fingers, which should have pushed him away, clutched his shirt instead.
“I’ve felt it far longer than I should.”
MOONLIGHT GLIDED INTO the room from below the billowing curtains, its silver light softening the harsh perfection of the sheikh’s face. He was lying on his side, fully clothed, head propped up by his arm while he played idly with the short, loose strands of her hair.
Kyria, too, lay on her side facing him, her wide-eyed gaze resting on his. She was freshly showered, her body now sheathed in a cotton nightdress but hidden under covers that she had pulled all the way up to her neck.
The sight was a strange mix of adorable and poignant, and the sheikh said solemnly, “You look like you’re scared I’m about to eat you.”
Her cheeks turned rosy with color. “Malik!” Her tone was faintly chiding but mostly breathless, and her cheeks turned redder when the sheikh smirked. “S-stop it.”
“Stop what?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know I’m not used to hearing you say such words.”
“Yes, I do know.” His lips twitched. “But do you really think that’s going to stop me?” He expected her to make a face or something similar to express her chagrin, but instead Kyria directed a look at him that could only be described as shy and uncertain, and Malik frowned. “What is it?”
“Do you...” She swallowed hard. “Do you really like me that way?”
“Yes.” His voice was grave. “I do really like you that way.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Kyria’s lips at the way he repeated her every word, but even so she insisted, “I’m being serious.”
“As I am.” And he tugged the locks of her hair with each word for emphasis.
“Honest?”
It was the sheikh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why do you find it so hard to believe?”
“How can I not?” She was just as incredulous as he was. “You’re Malik Al-Atassi! You can have any woman.”
“And so can you,” Malik retorted. “You can have any man—-”
“No, I can’t.” Kyria’s tone was faintly exasperated. He was always, always like this. He always made it seem like she was the most beautiful girl on the planet, even though they both knew she was not. She was plain, really, and in the times he had forbidden her to attend occasions where she might ‘attract the wrong sort of men’, Kyria herself would point this out. I know I’m not ugly, but I’m no beauty either. I won’t attract any sort of men!
And every time, Malik would only look at her like she was crazy for thinking so—-
Just as he was doing now, Kyria thought helplessly.
“Malik...look at me.”
“I am.”
“Really look at me,” she insisted.
Malik’s gaze became perplexed. “I have been looking at you for almost half of my life, Ky.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but Kyria steadfastly refused to let his words get to her head. “I’m not beautiful. I’m not even talented like Harper. I’m just ordinary, so how can you like someone like me?”
Malik frowned. “Why do you keep saying these things? You are beautiful.” And the way he was looking at her, she could almost, almost believe it herself. “And more than that, you’re perfect.”
“Oh, Malik.” She could see it in his eyes. He meant every word. But how could he? “What if—-” She swallowed past a lump on her throat, whispering, “What if you were just used to having me around and—-ah!”
In a blink of an eye, the sheikh had rolled her to her back, and he was suddenly above her, the weight of his body bearing down on hers.