Two days had passed since the ugly event, and Liyah had seen virtually nothing of Asad. When he did finally enter the suite, he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. “Business keeping you up?” she asked sweetly.

He gave her a tired look. “I’m not in the mood to fight with you.”

“Fight?” she scoffed. “How are we fighting? You are never here to fight! And when you are here, you hardly even look at me!”

“And why do you think that is?” he asked through clenched teeth. His eyes were almost wild as he stared at her.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Were they finally going to talk about the passion they’d shared? It was a terrifying thought, but not knowing what he was thinking was killing her inside. “I think it’s because you’re angry that you can’t throw me away like the rest of your women. You need me to stick around to play out this fantasy of yours until the end.”

Asad laughed dryly. “Believe me, sweetheart, what we have here is nothing close to the fantasies I have about you.”

With that, he left again—escaped, rather—and she was left stunned. She’d thought his coldness was the truth, but it appeared it was nothing more than another one of his masks to hide his desire.

His need for her.

He’d given her a powerful weapon, and she had no idea how to use it.

He stayed away for days, and Liyah turned to Amira for entertainment. The two went shopping, and Liyah was able to visit Sahaar and Mila. Her exchange family obviously wanted to know all the details of her life, but they were too polite to ask in the presence of the princess. News of her engagement had obviously not reached them, and Amira warned her to stay quiet for as long as possible.

When Asad did return, it was for no other reason than to attend another event with her by his side. They both pretended that the morning conversation had never happened. Dressed in a sleek, dark dress with Arabian-scalloped lace, Liyah was determined to be the picture of poise and elegance. She knew that his eyes lingered on her, and she couldn’t help but press the boundaries just a little, lightly touching his thigh or hand when no one was looking.

As soon as the car pulled back up to the palace, he mumbled that he was exhausted and escaped into his room.

She felt a little triumphant that she was finally getting the upper hand.

Exchanging her dress for a pair of cotton pajamas, she tried to sleep, but memories of his touch and kiss kept her awake. Every time she began to drift, she thought that she could feel his phantom kisses on her body, and her desire had her twisting and turning in her bed. Finally admitting that sleep was simply not going to happen, she snuck out and slipped up the stairs to the veranda, where she could see the city lights. The large, full moon bathed the city in her silver light and cast thrilling shadows across the buildings. It did nothing to ease Liyah’s aching, but she was not alone for long.

The door eased open, and Asad stepped out, shirtless and looking just as restless as Liyah felt. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see her.

“Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head.

"Neither can I."

She felt his breath warm her neck and turned, recognizing immediately the intention she saw in his eyes.

"Asad." The word came out in a whisper.

"There's a fire between us. We're going to put it out, one way or another, I suspect."

Averting her eyes, she stepped to one side, and he moved as if to allow her to leave, but then he grabbed her hand. Looking to him, Liyah felt powerless against the heady magnetism charging the space between them.

"I'm not a light switch . . ."

"But you are a light."

When he pulled her close and placed his hands over her breasts, her heart beat against the smooth warmth of his palms. Without another word, he hoisted her up and drew her into his arms. He carried her through the spired, half-circle arches separating the various galleries, parlors, and guest rooms of his estate to the one room she had yet to enter. His.

He lowered her onto his bed, and the mattress dipped as he sank on one knee next to her. Leaning down, he kissed her deeply while he slipped a hand under her cotton shirt.

As he caressed her abdomen, she shivered and moved into his touch. Before, it had been like a wildfire consuming them, but now, his actions were slow and deliberate. Patient. His tongue dipped into her gently, teasing, as his fingers moved up to circle her nipples with just the feather of a touch.

Digging her heels into the mattress, she arched her back and moaned. “Asad,” she pleaded.

“Patience,” he said huskily as his lips skimmed down her throat. “I want to savor every inch of you. I want to hear your cries of orgasm more than once before I enter you, before I make you mine.”

I’m already yours.

He liberated her from her shirt and skimmed his lips lower until his tongue caressed her nipples in tiny circles. Round and round, sending spikes of pleasure coursing through her body. His hands slipped under the waistband of her cotton pajama bottoms, and he made a strangled sound of pleasure.

“Naughty Liyah,” he whispered as he stroked the naked outer lips of her pussy. “Were you making it easier to touch yourself before you went to sleep?” His teeth circled her and tugged until she cried out. “Do you, sweetheart? Do you touch yourself and think of me?”

“I did,” she admitted. She’d tell him anything, so long as he quit playing with her. “I don’t, anymore.”

“And why is that?”

She spread her legs. “It’s not as good as you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned and slid two fingers inside her. They worked her rhythmically as she squirmed beneath him. The sensations were overwhelming, and soon she was crying out softly as the first small orgasm washed over her.

“That’s one,” he whispered hoarsely, moving against her. In the darkness, she reached for him. She wanted to wrap her fingers around his length and squeeze. She wanted to drive him as crazy as he was driving her, but he moved just beyond her reach.

“I won’t last,” he admitted. “And I need this to last.” Settling at her feet, he pulled her pajama bottoms down. Lifting one of her legs, he kissed her ankle and ran a finger under the sensitive part of her foot.

Her body pulsed.

“Do you taste as sweet as you moan?” he asked her as he slowly drew her legs apart. “It’s all I can think about, Liyah. Your body drives me mad.”

She wanted to tell him that he was the one driving her mad, but he settled between her legs, and at the first touch of his tongue, she knew nothing else but pleasure. Slow and teasing licks. A single slide of his finger.

More.

Easy rhythmic circles. Around and around. He curved his finger inside her, and she drew her knees up.

More.

Then his tongue lashed her. The pressure . . . “Ah, yes.”

She gasped as he added another finger, and he licked her over and over again, until every breath was a moan, a plea for him to end the torment.

He knew just when to stop and start again. He held back until she tightened her legs around him, and, with a hoarse laugh, he finished her.

“Two.”

Covered in sweat, she was still struggling to breathe when he rose up next to her. She felt his movement, and when he gripped her hips and lifted her over the top of him, he was naked. She glided down on him, settled over him, and clenched her muscles around him with ease, and she rode him until the early hours of the dawn. Their moans mingled in the night, intermittent with her panting need and breathy sighs whenever he changed the angle and built up something new.

His stamina would be the death of her.

“Three.” His gasp was taut as he was rapidly losing control, and she knew that she needed to taste him. She wanted him in her mouth when his control finally broke, and she wanted him to know what it was like to be dominated.

Dismounting him, she ignored his demands to return to him, and she flipped her body until she could wrap her hands around his cock.

“Liyah,” he said in a strangled voice. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see how you taste,” she whispered as she flung his words back at him. Before he could object, she leaned down and licked him from base to tip, reveling as his whole body jerked in response.

“Fuck,” he groaned. Still, he couldn’t just enjoy it. Instead, he lifted her hips until she straddled his shoulder, and then he slid that talented tongue over her clit until they were both rocking against each other, struggling to make the moment last. The night drew on as her pleasure became so intense that she had to stop, and then he patiently waited for her to regain her bearings. Over and over again, they teased, until their bodies could take no more. As he plunged his tongue deep inside her, she took him in as deep as she could, her moan vibrating around him.

“Four,” he hissed, and then he spilled himself inside her. She had no idea how he found the strength, but he managed to lift her and turn her.

In that moment, she knew only one thing for certain.

She was ensnared.

Bathed in the flow of sweat and pleasure, their juices mingling between her thighs, she fell against him and had only one question as she fell asleep.

Was he?