When she saw him unwrapping his headdress and stepping out of his long tunic she knew she had overestimated the power of her own will. He stood to his full height and gazed at her from the bank, and already she yearned for him. His luxuriant mane hung about his face in thick, wavy ropes, and it was the only thing he wore.
He was a man. That was clear.
Stunningly clear.
But as she appraised the whole of his body she realised that he was also a god. Every chiselled bit of him radiated strength and masculinity. There was not even a hint of the softness of age or leisure, not a single inch of fallow flesh. He was as taut and ready as a drum.
And he was coming for her.
The strong sinews of his lower legs tensed as he stepped barefoot into the water. He began to walk towards her and his upper leg muscles bulged and contracted, creating rings of small waves that radiated out from his body. Those waves travelled slowly across the pool, and when they crashed into her body they made her shiver.
He walked towards her slowly and deliberately. If she had seen him among the tomb workers she would have thought him a loader. She pictured him bare-chested and sweating in the sun, lifting some large boulder onto a cart, his dense muscles flexing. He would have been the most irresistibly handsome loader that ever was.
And he wanted her—nothing could be clearer.
She had thought that she repulsed him. Both times he had responded to her—in the pool and then in the cave—he had made his regret known. Now it seemed he was making the opposite known. She noticed his thick member, which stretched to an alarming length before it disappeared under the water.
Just the sight of it made her heart thump wildly.
He continued towards her, his narrow hips sinking beneath the velvety water, his muscular arms stretching out to caress its still surface. With the moon above him, the contours of his massive chest cast shadows upon his pale skin. It was as if he had been carved in alabaster: a temple relief showing the picture of an ideal man. Only this man was real—very, very real—and he was advancing towards her.
Everything is going according to plan, she told herself, though her whole body trembled. Her goal was to seduce him. To drive him so mad with desire that he would unwittingly take what he valued most about her—her virginity. Yet it seemed that she was the one going mad, for suddenly her body ached with a need that she had never felt before—a need so powerful it made her confused and afraid.
It was his eyes that scared her the most. They held her gaze in their deep blue snare—probing, searching, penetrating. They seemed to smoulder with something like anger. Or was it hunger?
Gods, what had she unleashed?
She felt her nipples tighten as he approached. Her whole body was flushed with heat. I remain totally in control, she told herself, though she could not slow her breaths. He was only a few arm’s-lengths away from her now. His chest heaved and his jaws clenched, as if he were experiencing some terrible intensity—the very same intensity she felt pulsing through her own body.
No.
Yes.
He was so close now. Kiya knew that somewhere under the water his desire had stretched to its engorged length. Her body quaked with a riotous mix of fear and desire. Her womanhood ached.
He is doing just what I hoped he would do, she repeated to herself, trying to stay calm. I’ve got him right where I want him.
Still, she stepped backwards, terrified of him, of her own desire, of what she had started and was now unsure how to finish.
‘Tahar—’ she began, but could not remember what she’d been going to say.
She felt herself falling backwards. She was almost completely immersed underwater when he caught her in his arms and pulled her to the surface. She felt herself trembling. She feared his touch even as her whole body cried out for it.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. He pulled her against him and held her tightly. ‘I mean you no harm. You are safe.’
His words were solace to her soul. His body felt so good against hers. Her breasts pushed against his stomach, just beneath his chest, and her arms wrapped comfortably around the flanks of his lower back. Her head rested upon the bulging muscles of his chest as if upon pillows. His desire throbbed softly—safely—against her stomach.
She sighed. It was as if their bodies were meant to fit together in their embrace. Or perhaps she had finally found a lost part of her own body. Whatever danger she’d read in his eyes had dissolved with his touch. She buried her head in his chest and felt as if she could stay like this for ever. She felt safe. She felt desired. She felt...grateful.
‘You have shown me amazing...things,’ she said. ‘I am—’