"Don't laugh at me!" she scolded and swatted his arm but missed and fell back against the car.
"I'm sorry," he said, still chuckling. "Are you hurt?"
"Hmph." She scoffed and turned her face away from him to look at the scenery with something close to reverence in her eyes. The big moon shone in the vast sky above and the smell of soil and grass mingled with the cool breeze. No noise. No smoke. Just Mother Nature. "It's so pretty," she whispered. "Masha Allah."
He studied her serene expression and felt glad that he had brought her here. Like him, she seemed to love nature and he wondered how she would ever be happy in a city apartment. Nature brought peace to her. She looked so happy now. There was no sign of the raw pain he had caught a glimpse of in her eyes. Producing a handkerchief, he moved closer to her to wipe off the remaining soil and grass from her skin and clothes. "Are you hurt?" he repeated softly.
She shook her head and the wind blew her dark tresses across her face. "I'm okay. Just got a little dizzy there."
He reached for her flyaway curls and smoothed them away from her face gently. Suddenly, it hit him. The reason he was so desperate for her. The reason her reference to another man hurt him. The reason he had allowed himself to be dominated even when he craved to take control of her.
He was falling in love. He was falling in love with this girl and it terrified the hell out of him. She did not love him. She said she might always love that other guy. He didn't stand a chance. Jasmine trembled slightly and looked up at him expectantly.
He looked back uncertainly. "What?"
A minx-like smile curved her lips. "My panties are still moist," she confessed throatily. "Any chance you still want to be my sex slave for the night?"
He groaned and walked away from her, running a hand through his hair and staring unseeingly at the dirt road below. He shouldn't. It would be wrong and dishonorable and she would hate him. He sighed heavily. But he would have a part of her that she would never give him otherwise. Once the effects of the alcohol wore off, she would go back to keeping him at a distance. This was all he would ever have of her. Now. Tonight.
"I'm cold." Her voice was tiny and child-like and Armaan shook off his wayward thoughts. Of course, he would not take advantage of her drunken state. He felt like a jerk for even contemplating it and steely resolve marked his features as he turned around.
"Come. Let's get you home, okay." She gasped and he frowned at her. "What's the matter now?" he asked warily.
She gave him a naughty smile. "Pavia," she whispered. "I want to see 'Chocolate'. I think you've been saving it for long enough now."
He screwed his eyes shut. Then he strode over to the car, got in and waited for her to do the same. She did so after a while and stopped him when his hand clutched the stick.
"Wait," she whispered and caressed his long fingers. "I want...you to kiss me." His stomach muscles clenched in response as he stared straight ahead. She was looking at him, still stroking his fingers, still driving him crazy.
Letting out another groan, he moved to crush her to him, his mouth taking hers in a passionate kiss. "Jasmine," he growled, lowering the seat, following her down, biting her lip and digging his fingers into her waist.
He lifted his head and devoured her with his eyes. "You're so fucking hot," he said, his eyes dark with lust and love. "So hot for me." Her legs parted and he ran his hands up her thighs possessively, taking the fabric up with them and relishing the feel of her smooth skin. "Mmm," he moaned pleasurably and captured her mouth again. Finally, he was not helpless. He could take what he wanted.
He felt her hands exploring his chest under his t-shirt and slowly rubbed the fly of his jeans against the moist satin of her panties.
"You know I can make you come this way, right?" he asked hoarsely, rubbing harder and not caring if the denim chafed her.
"Yes. But I want you to make me come in the best way possible," she whispered and reached down for his zipper. Armaan stilled.
"Damn it," he bit out and released her, sitting back up in his seat again. Roughly, he started the engine, throwing them both back as he drove the car at break-neck speed down the slope and then twisted sharply to head for Pavia.
~~~~
There was something about bringing a woman home at the end of the evening that had an irresistible appeal to it. Bringing a drunk woman home, however, with the intention of putting her to sleep was absolutely frustrating. Armaan carried her upstairs, forcing himself to ignore her delicious curves. Or the fact that she looked amazing in his bed, all drowsy and expectant with her hooded dark eyes and clothes that needed adjusting because they offered him so many tantalising peeks of her body and made him want to bare more to his gaze.
"Sleep, okay," he said softly, smiling at her albeit in a strained manner. His erection dug into his jeans, making him want to scream. Why? Why did she have to be drunk the first time he brought her inside his bedroom? It really wasn't fair.
When he tried to leave, she wouldn't let go of his arm and pulled him into bed with her with a laugh.
"Jasmine, this isn't such a good idea."
Her thighs rubbed against his sensuously
