The thin fabric was too much of a barrier between his hands and her body. He could rip it. Easily. But he wasn't accustomed that that level of abandon. Instead, he unlaced the bodice of her dress slowly, savoring the anticipation, each intake of breath, every involuntary shudder, until finally, the gold material fell in a puddle on the ground.
She tensed, crossing her arms over her chest, shielding herself from him.
"No." He caught her by the wrist, unwilling to let her hide from him. "Let me look at you."
It wasn't a suggestion. He was in control now. Her body thrummed with need, yearned for desire she wouldn't let herself give into. But he could take her there, give her what she wanted, what she craved.
What she refused to let herself have.
Slowly, apprehensively, she leaned into him, letting her body relax onto his.
"Good," he said. "Now show me what you want." Her body began to tense again and he held her more firmly to him. "Show me, Harper."
"I..." She pulled away from him, shielding her body once more. "I can't."
"You can," he said. "All you have to do is allow yourself to let go."
"Let go? Do you even know what you're asking? Do you have any idea what will happen if I do that?"
"I can't make you any assurances," Zaid said. He could no more promise her happily ever after than he could make the sun stand still. "What I'm offering is free of obligation. No strings. No judgments."
"It's not that simple."
"It can be, if you let it."
She opened her mouth as if to make a comeback, but there was no sound. No words. There was only her need and his offer to satiate that need. Her desire and his touch.
He reached for her, and she bared herself to him, allowing him to trace her body with his hands. His fingers grazed the tops of her breasts and she shivered, her eyes darkening, brimming with intensity. He cupped her breast, brushing a thumb over her nipple, and she gasped.
He pulled her to him, her back to his front, and kissed her lightly on the neck. "Let go."
Harper wished she could. Wished it were that easy. To just let it happen. To just let life happen and not be consumed by the need to control the outcome of things.
But if she wasn't in control, who would be?
She couldn't bear the thought of trusting someone to take care of her, to take care of her family, the way she had taken care of her mother… Well, that was unthinkable.
But this was different. She could let go, let him catch her, let him bear the weight of her needs and desires. For one night, she could sink into weightless bliss, forget the world around her, forget everything but the feel of his touch, the softness of his breath on her skin.
He worked the clasp on her bra and then it was gone, discarded along with the dress. His hand found her breast again, no fabric this time to dull the sensation. Pleasure washed over her. She reveled in it, anticipating more. She had been fighting it for so long, the temptation to give in. And she was tired of fighting.
She guided his hands lower, to her hip, and then lower still, down the back of her thigh, the tension between her legs building.
She needed him. She needed his touch more than she could say. She couldn't wait any longer.
Zaid, sensing her need, inched her panties down and tossed them aside. He raised her leg and rested it on one of the chairs bracketing the balcony, opening her up to him. Then, as slowly and tantalizingly as they had begun, he moved his hand up the inside of her thigh.
His fingers brushed against the most intimate part of her and she arched against him, hungry for more.
He would not give in to her. Not right away. She knew that much.
This night would be one she would remember forever. The way he touched her. The way her body reacted. He would see to it.
He found her center, working his fingers in slow, circular movements. She arched against him, teaching him her body's natural rhythm.
She was so close. But she needed more. More of this. More of him.
She pushed his hand away.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "I want more. I want you...all of you...inside me."
Zaid didn't hesitate. He pulled her to him and kissed her with a ferocity he'd never felt before, never shown to anyone. A ferocity he didn’t know himself capable of.
But here it was, alive and well, and desperate for Harper.
Her mouth was hungry for his, tempting and teasing him, hot and slick and wild. She was everything, all he needed and then some. He wanted all of her, immediately.
They didn't break apart as they moved toward the bed. Harper worked her way down his chest, ridding him of his shirt, his pants, discarding any scrap of fabric that dared stand between them. Her hands on his chest, mapping his body, caused him to ache in places he didn't even know he had. Places he had ignored for far too long.
There was nothing but the two of them, together. Until finally, there were no clothes, no scraps of fabric or pretense keeping them from each other.
She lowered herself onto him slowly and he gripped her hips, holding her there, thrusting himself more deeply inside her, basking in the feel of her body as it tightened around him, her expression contorted by the sweetest of agonies. She moved to that now-familiar rhythm, her body slick and warm, matching his thrust for thrust.
Their movements quickened, becoming more staccato, more urgent. She gripped his chest, bracing herself against him, her fingers digging in into his shoulders. He leaned forward, placing a trail of kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts. Her body squeezed around him, and he gripped her hips once more, holding her tightly to him as he deepened his thrusts into her. She cried out for him as she came, her tightness chasing his own release.
Their bodies spent, she collapsed onto him, trembling as she clung to him.
"You're shaking," he said.
"So are you."
He reached for the duvet and pulled it around them. "Are you okay?"
She eased herself off him and settled in beside him. "I think so. I still feel kind of tingly. You?"
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers. "Same."
"I can't believe we did that."
"I can't believe we didn't do it sooner."
"Zaid..."
He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. "Stop overanalyzing everything," he said. "We had sex. You enjoyed it. And yet the world continues to turn."
"You think I'm being ridiculous."
"I think you are needlessly hard on yourself. There isn't a person on this planet that could live up to your standards. It's time you let yourself make a few mistakes."
"Like sleeping with you?"
"There are worse ways to kill a couple of hours."
Harper frowned, the afterglow cocktail of dopamine and oxytocin wearing off, her bravado fading, leaving her as naked on the inside as she was on the outside. She held the duvet firmly against her chest and sat up, running her hand beneath the sheets.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my panties."
He knelt behind her, pressing his body against hers, and kissed her lightly on the neck. "You don't need your panties."
"I'm not too good for a walk of shame, but I refuse to walk bare-assed to my apartment in front of our wedding guests," she said. "Now are you going to help me or what?"
"Your panties are on the floor by the balcony."
She made a move off the bed and stopped. "Turn around."
"You can't be serious."
"I have to bend over to pick them up."
"I've seen all there is to see, rohi."
"Yes, but you haven't seen it from that angle."
"Which is precisely why I cannot oblige you."
Harper tugged the oversized duvet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, her legs tangling in the fabric as she made her way to the balcony. She bent down to pick up her panties and nearly toppled over.
Zaid let out a boom of laughter. "Let me help you."
"I don't need your help."
"Perhaps you need more than you realize."
He crossed the room, picked up the panties, and handed them to her. She stood dumbstruck, her eyes fixated on his smooth, dark skin, the ripples of his muscles, the line of dark hair that gathered below his navel, and beyond. She moistened her mouth, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, and his body stirred.
"You're staring," he said, his voice no longer full of humor, but instead dry and rough, filling with something that was yet to be satiated.
Her body warmed, her bravado building back up. There was so much they hadn't experienced, so much of him she hadn't explored. She wanted to take him in her hands, to taste him, to feel him inside her again.
"Harper..."
She met her eyes to his, letting the duvet fall to the floor beside the dress as she reached for him. She slid her hand down the length of his erection and tightened her grip, a small smile forming on her mouth when he clenched his jaw, stifling a groan.
"What are you doing?"
"Making a mistake." She shrugged. "But there are worse ways to kill a couple of hours, right?"
Zaid pulled her to him and kissed her, hard and fast and urgent, leaving no question to his motives. "A couple of hours is nothing," he said. "Not when we have all night."