Before she could stop her hands, they reached for him, as though they existed for no other reason than to touch him. Her fingers brushed across his jaw with a feather’s caress before pulling away, and he closed his eyes on a soft inhale. Like the poison toying with its remedy, Shahrzad’s hands ignored her and took control, a mere taste of his skin not nearly enough. Never enough. They began at his brow and eased their way to his temples before sliding into his hair, smooth as silk, dark as night. She watched his eyes open and turn from liquid to fire under her fingers. Shahrzad ran her palms down to his neck, where she paused.
“Why won’t you touch me?” she whispered.
It took him a moment to reply. “Because if I start, I won’t stop.”
“Who asked you to stop?” Her fingers traveled to his chest.
“What if I can’t give you the answers you want?”
Again, she returned to nothing.
Yet there, in the warmth of his eyes, was everything.
“Then give me this.” Shahrzad stood on her toes and brought her mouth to his. When he did not respond, she curved her tongue against his lower lip, and his hands drew across her waist in a slow burn. She thought he would push her away, but he dragged her against him. Khalid kissed her, melding nothing to everything. Shahrzad wrapped both arms around his neck, and he backed her into the ebony door until she was braced up against it, each of their breaths matched, measure for measure, beat for beat.