“Mouth or kiss?”
“Both.”
“Bosa is kiss.”
“Bosa,” he said, touching his lips to hers.
“Mouth is fum.”
“Fum.” He kissed her again.
“Tongue is lisan.”
“Lisan,” he said, and gave it to her, plundering the depths of her mouth. She returned his kiss with a low moan. Her tongue touched his shyly and her fingers laced through his hair. She tasted like Yazidi liquor and female spice, a delicious combination. He settled against her, learning all her sensitive places. His lips traced the silky column of her throat while his hands roamed. Her hijab fell away, and he pulled his shirt over his head. Her fingertips danced across the surface of his chest.
He paused, taking a ragged breath. He was already throbbing with arousal, near the point of no return. “When I have you, it will be somewhere private,” he murmured in her ear. “So you can scream my name in pleasure, over and over again, without anyone hearing.”
Her fingertips explored lower. “You are very confident.”
He captured her hand and molded it over his erection.
“Is this the source of your confidence?”
“It’s one of them.”
She let out a shaky laugh, sliding her palm along his length. “As a medical professional, I know that size is not linked to female satisfaction.”
“But?”
“I think more research must be done.”
He kissed her again. He couldn’t make love to her here, but he didn’t want to stop yet. Her body felt like heaven underneath his. He untied the string over her collarbone, loosening her blouse. Her breasts were bound with a scarf. One tug exposed her bountiful flesh. He lifted his head to stare. He hadn’t expected to undress her so easily, or to be so dazzled by the sight. Her breasts were soft and round and perfect.
“How do you say beautiful?” he asked.
“Jamila,” she whispered.
He repeated it with reverence, nuzzling her soft flesh.
“Hudson?”
“Call me William,” he said.
“William? Is that your name?”
He nodded, wrestling with the fabric of her skirt. He almost swallowed his tongue when he realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. “Jesus.”
“William.”
He lifted his gaze to her face. “Yes?”
“I would also like privacy, when we are together. This is not safe.”
He glanced around the dark hillside, considering. They weren’t exactly alone, and he needed to stay alert, but he could still give her pleasure. He might never get the opportunity to do this in a real bed. “Let me touch you.”
She nibbled her lower lip, uncertain.
He waited for her to say no, but she didn’t. A flash of intuition told him that she enjoyed a hint of danger, the same way he did. She’d recognized the trait in him because she shared it. “Lift your skirt.”
She seemed scandalized by the order. “What if I scream?”
“I’ll cover your mouth with mine.”
After a short hesitation, she leaned back against the rock wall and tugged the fabric up her thighs. His arousal swelled to a painful hardness. He pushed her knees apart and left them open. He imagined pressing his tongue to her and tasting her sweetness. Moistening his lips, he returned his attention to her breasts. He suckled her nipples, cupping her soft flesh. Her fingers twined in his hair again and the rest of the world fell away. He left her nipples taut and wet. When his hand moved up her thigh, her breaths quickened with excitement.
She was slippery with arousal, ripe for his touch. He lifted his head from her breasts and watched her face as he stroked her. She wasn’t difficult to please. His fingertips circled her swollen bead of flesh. He’d like to know the word for that in Arabic, but he decided not to ask. She gripped his wrist suddenly, shuddering with pleasure. He crushed his mouth over hers to muffle her soft cries.
Although he hadn’t planned anything beyond giving her a quick orgasm, he was desperate for release. He fumbled for the buttons on his fly with his free hand. Then he stroked himself with fingers still slick from her body.
She watched him perform the crude task with half-lidded eyes. He was beyond embarrassment, and he knew women liked his size. His gaze moved from her face to her unbound breasts and pouty nipples. He wasn’t hard to please, either. He came with a smothered groan, spilling his seed in the dirt.
When his sense of decorum returned, he tucked himself in and buttoned his pants. She fixed her blouse and straightened her skirt. In less than a minute, they were both fully composed, as if he hadn’t just brought her to climax and jerked off beside her.
“Should I apologize?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Dishonoring you.”
She leaned toward him and brushed her lips over his. “I like your methods of dishonoring, William Hudson.”
“In that case, let’s do it again.”
“Do you have the same appetite for women that you have for food?”
“Not for any woman. Just you.”
She smiled at his response, patting his cheek. She didn’t believe him. She’d let him touch her because she was a lonely young widow who missed the pleasures of the bedroom. She was still mourning her ex-husband. Hud got the impression that she’d been a well-satisfied wife. He felt another surge of jealousy toward Khalil, along with a grudging respect.
Even if Layah wanted a real relationship with Hud, it was impossible. They had no future together, no hope of permanence. He was a stranger in a strange land, half-broken from months of captivity, still recovering from a painful divorce.
He needed to harden his heart and keep a cool head. If he couldn’t enjoy her body without getting attached, he had to back off. He shouldn’t be crossing the line with her, anyway. It was personally and professionally risky.
“I will watch with you if you like,” she offered.
“No,” he said, tugging his shirt back on. “Get some rest.”
“Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
He watched her walk around the wall and crawl into the tent with Ashur. Then he picked up the rifle and trained his gaze on the dark hillside. He’d spent
