Darker Side of Desire & the Sheikh's Pregnant Prisoner(54)

“Come for me, habeebti,” he said, his fingers once again finding the swollen button of her sex.

Lauren curled her legs around his back as he pulled out and thrust again. Excruciatingly slow, he let her feel every inch of him, his fingers relentless in their assault still.

She was sobbing and begging now, pressing his back with her legs, urging him to go faster. Going mindless at the release that hovered just beyond her reach.

Every muscle in his face pulled tight over his features, his jaw looked as if it was set in concrete. She knew his body, she knew what he liked when it came to sex, what drove him crazy. That he needed to go faster, deeper, rougher.

Heart murmuring to a halt, she realized that he leashed himself.

It was the only time she had him, the man in the center of the island he made around himself, the man he was beneath his dedication and duty to Behraat and she was damned if she gave that up because he thought she might break.

“You can’t hurt me.”

A vein flickered in his temple, his gaze filled with a feral hunger. Hunger that he denied himself.

She tried to shift under her him, but he locked her with his fingers on her hips. “Zafir…” she panted, furious that he would deny her. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

“I know that.” She pushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead, something filling her chest. “But, do you know how fragile you feel to my rough hands?” Another slow thrust followed by their mingled groans.

She drew her nails down his back, the heated hiss of his breath goading her on. “Shield me, if you must, from the entire world, but not from you, Zafir. Never from you,” she said, and then she traced the line of his rigid spine, dug her fingers into his taut buttocks. “I swear to God, if you treat me like this, ours will be the shortest marriage in the history of—”

His mouth took hers in such a carnal kiss that she felt thoroughly ravished. “You will learn to not threaten your husband, habeebti,” he whispered, before he dipped his tongue into her mouth in actions mimicking his lower body. “And you’ll definitely not talk of leaving me again, ever. Yes?”

“Harder, then, please,” she murmured at his ear. His skin was rough silk as she licked his shoulder and then pushed her teeth in.

A hoarse grunt fell from his lips, before he clasped her jaw and crushed her mouth with a savage ferocity that burned her. There was no gentleness to him now, no semblance of control.

He was the man that had made her embrace insanity with a smile, that had made her wild with one kiss. That had made her leave safety behind and walk into fire.

Tilting her hips, he thrust deeper, faster, pushing her on and on… Until there was only him and her and the spiraling want between them…

Lauren screamed as she came in a shattering explosion of pleasure and sensation. Her lower belly quivered, her legs so much mush, her sex pulsing and shuddering with the waves.

With a guttural growl, Zafir followed her, keeping his weight off her even as his powerful body bucked and shuddered above her.

* * *

His breath coating his throat like a fire, Zafir looked at Lauren.

Brow damp, her breathing harsh, she was shaking.

His thighs still tightening and releasing from the aftermath of his explosive climax, he looked down the length of her. The scent of sweat and sex clung to the air they breathed, an explosive mix that he drew greedily into his lungs.

He saw the pink impressions his fingers had left on one hip and cursed. One layer of lace that fell over the turquoise silk beneath, he assumed, was ripped along the seam. Feeling himself harden again, he pulled the dress down all the way to her ankles.

A shuddering exhale left him, his chest feeling as if it was caving in on his heart.

Moving away from the bed, he found a washcloth, dunked it in a pitcher of water and came back to the bed. Gently, he snuck his hands again under the wreck he had made of her dress. She flinched when he separated her legs.

Ice filling his veins, he froze. Then he rolled his shoulders and searched for her gaze. “Lauren? You said—”

“Zafir!” Eyes, wide in her narrow face, locked on him. Her lashes cast shadows onto her cheeks, her skin damp. “I’m just…embarrassed, that’s all.”

Relief unlocked his wrist. Smoothing his palm over her belly, he continued again and gently cleaned her up.

Because they had never lingered like this after sex before, he realized. Because every time, after he had taken her, he had left.

The only time he had actually stayed at her apartment had been when she’d had the flu.

Because, every time, he had told himself it would be the last time.

Because, from the moment of his father’s announcement to an outraged Tariq and a stunned council, he had not been just Zafir. Or was it even before that when his mother had given him birth.

The way Rashid had raised him, it seemed it had been inevitable.

But now, he needn’t walk away.

Because she had helped him carve a small compartment in his life, for her.

He liked that—the permanence of something in his life, the freedom to be himself, even if it was in the very confines of this one relationship.

Freedom by binding him to her, that’s what she had given him.

“You’re smiling,” she said then, and she was smiling, too. Lovely mouth trembling, dark black eyes glowing.

His heart crawled to his throat.

It was one of those perfect, precious, rare moments, he just knew it, even though there hadn’t been very many in his life until then.

“I plan to be there when you give birth, Lauren. I plan to cut the cord and see my child enter this world. This,” he said, gesturing to the cloth, “it’s nothing, habeebti.”

“Yeah?” she said, something low and tender in her tone more than challenge.

“Yeah,” he replied, with a smile. He thought he saw a flash of wetness but she blinked and looked away.

Getting off the bed, he cleaned himself and then washed up. He felt her gaze on his back and turned.

She looked utterly breathtaking on that vast bed, the bodice of her dress clinging to her breasts.

He hadn’t even undressed her, he realized now. Just shoved her dress up and out of his way before plunging into her. Even the chilly waters of the oasis hadn’t cooled him down.

He had been high on his victory, drunk on his own power, as she had blamed him once.

He had meant to take it slow, to savor the long night, but the moment he had touched her, found her ready for him, he had lost any semblance of will.

She wanted it just as much as you did, a part of him whispered. And she never pretended otherwise.

She had never feared him or his passion. Not before she knew who he was, not after.

Something inside him, something that feared that he would heap a world of hurt on this fragile woman, finally calmed.

This wild heat between them, Lauren wanted it.

Lauren always chose it, always chose him, he realized with a leaping feeling. And for the first time in his life, he could give back what little he could.

He returned to the bed and pulled a thick rug over their bodies. Traced the upper swell of her breasts and felt her shiver. “I’m a fool, habeebti, not that I would admit it to anyone but you.”

“How so?”

“I ignored these glorious breasts.”

“Hmmm…no arguments here,” she said, sinking her fingers into his hair and pulling.

She didn’t do it gently either. Then satisfied, she moved those long fingers down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose, his mouth, before settling over his shoulders again.

Then she petted him some more.

He lay still, silent, shuddering at the possessiveness in her touch, submitting to this woman who was slowly stealing into him. “Zafir?”

“Yes, Lauren?”

Her thickly fringed gaze fell on him, then shied away. She was hesitating, and instantly, he felt something in him twist and brace.

Against her? Against what she would say?

Was it fear, he wondered, trying to hold the curious feeling swirling through him. It was the same sensation that had shot through him when she had so boldly blurted out that their marriage would be short if he didn’t…

Buried deep inside her, straining to not use her body roughly like he was used to, he had growled back at her.

He, who had finally achieved everything, could he fear what this mere slip of a woman could say to him? And what she could do?

She roughly pulled his chin up to meet his gaze. The uncertainty there pushed away his own jumbled thoughts. “What is it?”

The flush was receding from her cheeks, but her mouth was swollen. From his rough kisses. “Focus, will you?”

This time, he laughed. “I am focusing. You’re the one hesitating. Which is as strange as a rainfall in a desert.”

She didn’t negate him. And his heart pounded harder in the thick silence.

“I’ve…you…” She sighed, licked her lips, rubbed one thumb over his stubbly jaw and began again. “I’ve been confused, overwhelmed and sometimes a little lonely these past weeks… But then…”

She pulled his hand to her cheek, and then kissed the center of his palm. The tenderness in her gaze unmanned him. “I would do anything to make this marriage work, Zafir. And not just for the baby. But for you and me.”

He didn’t know what to say in return.

It was what he had known she would give in return for his commitment, it was what he wanted of her for years to come, and yet the strength of her conviction, the courage it must have cost her to say it to him, shook him from within.