Bound to Seduction by Elisabeth Naughton Page A

It was as if he
could see her soul for what it was. And it wasn’t tainted. It
wasn’t black. It was…pure.
    “You what?”
    “I…” His brow dropped low. “Who are you,
Mira Dawson?”
    A slow, winsome smile spread up her face.
“I’m just a woman.”
    But she wasn’t. She was more than that. For
whatever reason, she was special.
    He kissed her. Slowly. Gently. Unable to do
anything but touch his mouth to hers. She groaned against his lips,
slid onto his lap, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
    He opened to her, didn’t try to stop her
when she pushed him to his back, when she levered herself over him.
When her hand stroked his cock and she positioned it back at the
entrance to her body.
    “Mira,” he whispered.
    Slowly, she sank down, and they both groaned
as he filled her. Arousal flushed her cheeks a warm pink. She
rocked against him, pressed her hands to his chest. Never once
looked away as she rode. And as his orgasm barreled close, he
brushed the hair back from her face and knew, wherever he went, no
matter how long he was chained to Zoraida, he would always remember
this moment. Of finally being wanted. Not for what he could do but
for who he was. Of finally doing the right thing in the sea of all
the bad he’d ever done.
    “Tariq…” Her rocking picked up speed. She
grew tighter, hotter, wetter.
    He sat
up so he could taste the pleasure from her lips when it hit.
“Yes, hayaati . Ride
me. Take me. Come for me.”
    Her mouth dropped open. A long groan echoed
from her chest. He captured it with his mouth, kissed her deep
again and again as he lifted his hips, as he thrust deeper, as he
tried to milk every inch of desire from her before it was over.
    Electricity raced through each cell in his
body while she rode the wave. And before he realized it was coming,
his own orgasm slammed into him. Stole his breath. Made those stars
he’d seen earlier explode in a mountain of fireworks. Everywhere.
Until want and need and dreams and wishes all condensed into a hot,
burning point of light that sucked up everything in one giant
vortex of pleasure.
     
    * * *
     
    Mira collapsed against Tariq and tried to
drag air into her lungs. His chest rose and fell with his own rapid
breaths, and both their bodies were coated in a sheen of sweat.
Sweat that felt way too good.
    Pleasure still radiated everywhere—even in
her fingers and toes—and she smiled as she remembered how easily
she’d made him come with her mouth. How easily he’d made her come
with his body.
    “I…I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
    Tariq’s voice vibrated from his chest into
her ear, and she pushed back, smiled down at him. Her heart turned
over as she stared into his eyes. A reaction that both surprised
and confused her. “No, you didn’t hurt me. In fact, I think you
might have fixed me.”
    He darted a look around the room, and the
way his eyes changed from lazy to on guard brought a rush of worry
that chilled her skin. Were those Ghuls back? Had he seen
something?
    He
rolled her to her back, pushed up on his hand. A wave of
disappointment washed over her as he slid from her body. “Don’t say
that. Not yet, hayaati .”
    She still didn’t know what “hayaati” meant.
She’d have to look that up. And she wasn’t sure why he didn’t want
her to say he’d fixed her. But as he climbed off the bed and pulled
on his jeans, the fear in his voice registered. Followed by an
understanding that dawned bright in her mind.
    If her wish was complete, their time
together was over. He didn’t want it to be over.
    Warmth
replaced the chill. She slid to the end of the bed, reached for his
T-shirt from the floor before he could pull it on. “I didn’t say I
was done with you, Tariq.” She tugged the shirt over her head, let
it drop to her thighs. Loved how it smelled like him. “I said
you might
have fixed me. Not that
you did.”
    He stopped. Looked back at her. Then a
relieved smile spread across his face, just before he eased