She whimpered, pressing her pelvis against his and clutching at his upper arms. Her moaning and the way she gripped his biceps made him feel invincible, powerful. As if he was strong enough to clear mountains out of her path.
She stepped backward and he followed, pressing her into the wall. With a low growl, his tongue penetrated her lips and licked at the moistness within, and he thrust long fingers into her short, silky hair as he grasped the back of her neck. He held her firm, keeping her in place so he could have more.
He urged her lips wider as he assaulted her with his tongue and swallowed her gasp. Her own fingers lifted into his hair, and a shudder rocked his frame as her short nails scraped at his scalp.
Wasim could feel himself losing control, practically bursting at the seams for the opportunity to sink into her, finally, after lusting after her for years. Partially out of respect for his good friend, Kofi, he’d kept his distance. But with her tight little body pressed up against his, heat licking at his skin wherever her roaming hands wandered, the battle of resistance would be lost tonight because his erection stood heavy like a cylinder of lead between his thighs. If he didn’t get a chance to have this woman he might explode.
Wasim lifted Imani against the wall and pressed the full weight of his erection between her thighs. She groaned as he did a teasing grind, showing her what she was missing, what he could offer if she only let him in.
“One night.” He licked her neck and his teeth nipped at her sensitive skin. “I promise that I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. His voice, hoarse and hungry, didn’t sound at all princely. He sounded desperate and was shameless in his need for her.
He lowered her to the floor and slipped both hands under her dress. He grasped both sides of her panties and was about to yank them down to her ankles when she grabbed his wrists.
“Wait. Stop.” She was panting, but he clearly heard the words.
Wasim rested his forehead on the wall right above her shoulder. “Imani…” he said in a gravelly voice.
“I can’t.” She whispered the words against the beating pulse of his throat.
Wasim closed his eyes. “Why?” The ache in his loins was going to eat him alive.
She pushed against his chest to create distance between them and with deep reluctance, he stepped back.
He watched her in the momentary silence. Downcast eyes. Heaving breaths. He’d kissed off her lipstick and exposed the raw beauty of her succulent lips, now swollen to more provocative fullness.
“A couple of years ago, I promised myself that the next man I have sex with will be my husband. I guess we both have rules that we live by.” She lifted her eyes to his. “We should pretend this never happened and stick to friendship, don’t you agree?”
Years? Imani hadn’t been made love to inyears?
Wasim didn’t reply to her question. He would have to respect her wishes, but he didn’t agree. Because his loins burned with desire for her, the flames flaring hotter now that he knew about her abstinence. If she said one little three-letter word—yes—he’d have her naked and on her back in seconds.
“Good night,” Imani said.
Then she quietly left the room.
10
The reception in the Grand Hall of the Ritz-Carlton to kick off the first Kabatra Technology Expo was filled with the biggest names in the tech world, with representatives from countries on six of the world’s continents. Tonight, Imani wore a simple black pants suit and wrapped her hair turban-style in a black and red Ankara-print scarf, accentuating the look with gold hoops in her ears and bold red lipstick.
She hoped to make contacts tonight that would facilitate future business deals to benefit the tech companies in Zamibia. In addition, she had invited two of the biggest names in Zamibian cybersecurity and had spent the better part of the afternoon prepping them for tonight. Both—one a woman and the other a man—seemed to be doing well so far, but she kept a close eye on them nonetheless.
For now, though, as she walked the room shaking hands and making conversation, her mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Wasim. After Sunday, the memory of their kiss in Estoria came back with a vengeance and reminded her of what it was like to have his hands and mouth on her. She couldn’t believe she’d managed to resist him.One night,he’d whispered, and she’d been sorely tempted to give in. Thank goodness he hadn’t pushed harder.
“Hello, Ambassador,” one of the attendees said. They shook hands and chatted for a few minutes. Then Imani got a ginger ale and went to stand on the edge of the room.
Wasim’s assertiveness with Mark had been…appealing, and the thought of being taken care of lingered like the aftertaste of a sweet pastry. One she definitely wanted more bites of.
She shook her head in disgust. She was losing it. The man had actually used the wordmine. His ideas were archaic. She was Lioness Abameha Imani Karunzika, Zamibian Ambassador to Barrakesch. The thought ofbelongingto a man was nauseating. She was independent and knew her own mind.
She would neverbelongto a man, but if she did, it certainly wouldn’t be Prince Wasim of Barrakesch. She’d grown up around men like him who were used to having power and their authority unquestioned. She couldn’t thrive in a relationship like that. She’d suffocate under the limitations he was sure to impose.
A spattering of applause filled the air, and Imani turned to see that Wasim had finally arrived. He looked handsome in a dark three-piece suit with a pale pink tie. He wore his hair brushed back from his face and had tamed it into a semblance of order, though one lone curl managed to go rogue and fall to right above his left eyebrow. When he flashed a smile, lifting his hand in greeting to the attendees, she let loose a slow breath to calm her racing heart.
He found her in the crowd, and when their eyes met, she tipped her glass of ginger ale to him, and a minute smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Not a full smile, though—as if he wasn’t completely in the best of spirits. The vibrancy in his eyes was missing, and there was an emptiness there she wasn’t used to seeing. Then the crowd converged, and his attention was taken up by the people who surrounded him.
The night continued in the same vein it had started—conversations with potential partners, exchanging business cards, snacking and drinking, and more talking. After her two invitees left, Imani took a seat at a corner bistro table and watched the thinning crowd.
She checked her watch. She’d stick around for another half hour or so and then leave so she could get up early in the morning for the first day of the expo. She was scheduled to do a speech at the opening breakfast and wanted to get home in time to practice one more time and get plenty of rest for the event.
