Byzantine Provocateur

...The lock clicked into place with a muted sound, enclosing Murat and Thalia in their own private world, somewhere out of time. A million half-formed thoughts flitted through her mind, her stomach tightening with a flurry of nerves.

We are really going to do this.

Her gaze darted around the sumptuous room, barely registering the decor until her attention halted on the queen-sized bed. Covered in indigo silk, it was inviting and intimidating all at once—a plush, opulent love nest that made her large bed at home seem like a bunk in a youth camp.

She looked over her shoulder to find Murat regarding her with a contained expression as if he were waiting for a sign. Her pulse jumped under the weight of that stare and the enormity of what she was about to do. All her bravado in the salon fled. She was completely out of her element now. Aside from a couple of drunken gropings in college, all her sexual history, brief as it was, had been in relationships. This would be her first official one night—make that one day—stand.

He moved in, sliding his arms around her waist and drew her against him. “If you are unsure, we can halt this,” he murmured against her hair, brushing his cheek along the top of her head.

“No,” she choked out, closing her eyes as his warm breath feathered the shell of her ear, sending tiny thrills all the way to her toes. “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“Then I will relax you.”

He caressed her in slow circles, kneading and rubbing her from breasts to belly. She quivered from the heat of his hand through the cotton of her shirt. Her breath hitched as he inched lower and lower. Palming her through her cargo pants, he massaged, squeezing and pressing until she thought she’d die.

Pliant and wanton, she dropped her head to his shoulder, undulating, pushing into his touch. Her blood sizzled, every cell in her body clamoring for him to be inside her and he hadn’t even started to remove her clothes. She whimpered, digging her nails into his forearm.

“Please.”

His lips curved in a smile against her neck. “Please…what?”

She inhaled sharply as he flicked open the button of her trousers.

“This?” He nipped her earlobe. “Or this?” Oh-so-slowly, he eased down her zipper, then teased a finger along the top of her panties.

She dragged in a breath. “I…I…”

Back and forth, he rubbed, skimming the top of her mound. She sagged against him, knees bent, thighs parting to give him better access.

Continuing to tease her, he reached up with his other hand up to cup her breast, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. A wave of desire slammed through her and she cried out as he worked the hardened nub through the barrier of fabric.

Her vision clouded. “Murat!”

“Shh. This is only the beginning. We have plenty of time to play.”

She shuddered in frustration, wanting nothing more than to be flat on her back with him sliding inside her, bringing her to a volcanic climax. Something she hadn’t gotten from a lover in a long time. On the ragged edge, she tried to maneuver out of his embrace, take control.

He scraped his teeth over the nape of her neck and smacked her rear.

“Hayir, no,” he rasped.

Clamping his hands to her hips, Murat walked her to the bed, the hard promise of his erection burning into her lower back. He ripped the duvet from the bed, scattering pillows, then pushed her onto the mattress.

Thalia sat stunned as Murat knelt between her thighs. What is he doing?

“The first time with a new lover should be a symphony of bliss, a journey to be savored.”

His words washed over her, warm and inviting, making her shiver in anticipation of his next move...