Page 73 of To Tango, with Desire

My clit throbbed, aching for those hands on my body. Who was I kidding? I was lusting after my husband, but too damn stubborn to admit it. Certainly not to him. I could just picture his smug face if he found out I was standing here like some desperate voyeur.

Nope. Telling him that I was hot for action was not an option. Not yet . . .

I pressed my hands over my clit, stifling my own moan. I watched as he kept pumping his cock, and unable to stop myself, I slipped my hand inside the waistband of my pajama shorts. I watched him jerk off, turned on by the sounds, by the way he called my name.

Slowly, I circled my clit, wanting to savor the lightning bolts of pleasure. I tried not to picture him fucking me, but my brain was always ten steps ahead. And all I could think about was Zane’s dark head buried between my legs and his crushing weight pressed against mine.

As Zane came, throwing his head back, muscles corded, I stood mesmerized.

I watched as he soaped himself, washing the cum off the shower wall. And it was only when he turned off the water that my brain jumped online.

Tugging my hands out of my underwear, I turned, tiptoeing as fast as I could back to bed. I lay down on my side, facing away from the bathroom door. My body was tense as I heard him move around. What felt like seconds later, he came into the room.

I held my breath, eyes closed. I waited for him to get back into bed, but the next thing I heard was the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing.

I breathed out, heart jackhammering in my chest. Turning on my back, I looked up at the ceiling. Then I leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed my smart watch. 5 AM.

I could try to get back to sleep, but I doubted I’d be successful.

Making sure I was alone, I slipped my hands inside of my underwear again, finishing what I’d started.

AMIRA

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Zane sat at the kitchen table, sunlight on his back, paper in hand.

“Morning.”

“I was going to wake you, but after last night, I figured the bride needed her sleep.”

I shoved back my wet hair. After I’d gotten off this morning, I must have fallen back asleep. Not that he needed to know that. The shower had woken me up, and some breakfast was exactly what I needed to take care of the uneasy sensation in my stomach. I hadn’t eaten as much as I would have liked yesterday. Even though the food had been divine, I’d been nervous about the wedding night.

Don’t think about Zane naked, for the love of God, Amira. Calm down.

“Something smells good.”

“Shakshuka. But if you prefer something sweet—”

“No, it’s perfect.”

I sat down, trying my best to relax.

“Is that lavash?”

“I prefer it some mornings. But there’s khobz in the pantry if you prefer.”

“No. I’ll have this and some of the fruit.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

I watched as he walked over to the coffee machine, noting how relaxed he appeared. How long would it take before this place felt like home? Even though Zane had given me the grand tour in the lead up to our wedding, I knew I would get lost.

There were lounge rooms, formal dining rooms, a gymnasium, and home theater.

When he’d shown me his study, which was encased inside an epic two-floor library complete with a fireplace and lounge area, I’d had to pick my jaw up off the floor.