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To Tempt a Sheikh(25)

By:Olivia Gates


And he could no longer just look, he needed to experience all that, claim it, wallow in it.

"Rao'ah, jenan … " He growled, filling his hands with sunlight and gold  and honey made woman. His woman. "A marvel, madness-beauty like this  shouldn't have been sanctioned by the heavens."

"Look who's talking," she moaned as he took the mounds of her breasts into kneading hands, yearning for their weight and feel.

He felt he'd blow an artery without a taste. He bent to have it, laved  their peaks, answered their demand for the pull of his suckles, the  grazing of his nips.

"Elahati, my goddess." He swept her up into his arms, didn't register  the journey to the platform bed. He laid her on it, arranged her limbs  as if they were flowers, tracing every line demarcating her tawny tan  from her still-creamy areas with his tongue. "We'll sunbathe naked from  now on. I want to see your inner lioness fully manifested. We'll do  anything and everything."

A peach flush evened out her color and her eyes turned almost black as she writhed. "Yes … please, anything … everything … "

The totality of her hunger and trust shot to his heart, tampering with  its rhythm. He anchored her as she began to buck beneath him, his  fingers lost in the mindless pleasure of spanning her sharp concavity,  digging into her taut flesh.

She whimpered a white-hot tremolo that attested to a pleasure she couldn't breathe for its power. "Harres, take me … daheenah."

Hearing her say now in his mother tongue felt like a giant hammer  shattering the last pillar of his control. He would later swear he'd  heard the shrieking snap of his mind giving way, the howling implosion  of restraint's end.

A rumble rolled inside him like distant thunder as he snapped her  turquoise panties down her silken legs. She was golden down to her last  secret. Rising on his knees, he barely pushed his drawstring pants down  enough to release an arousal that was beyond rock now.

The look of feverish hunger, of shocked intimidation on her face made  him want to hold back, take it infinitely slow and gentle. And they made  him want to ram into her, ride her, grind his flesh into hers until she  wept with the closeness, broke with the pleasure, dissolved in the  fusion.                       
       
           



       

Feeling the world receding in a white noise of incoherence he grabbed  her thighs, would have pressed them apart if they hadn't fallen  wide-open.

She arched, writhed, tried to drag him to her, inside her.

He pulled back, tried to regain control. She was tampering with his  sanity, at the verge of destroying it. He could hurt her. Even if he  knew he'd pleasure her, too, he had to hold back.

He opened her folds, forged a path between their molten heat, but  denying her the full entry she craved. She came off the bed at the first  touch of their most intimate flesh. He laved his hardness in her  nectar, rubbing her in escalating rhythm, until she was sobbing. He  alternated between shallow nudges and circular strokes, over and over  and over, teasing without fully taking.

She rose on her elbows, lips open with distressed gasps, her eyes  spewing azure wildness and invitation of anything at all he would do to  her.

Then he moved in a tighter rhythm until she fell back on the bed, legs  shaking wide, her back bowed deep as she convulsed into wave after wave  of a screeching orgasm.

Seeing her lost to pleasure, pleasure he'd brought her, made his heart  thunder with pride, with relief, with uncontrollable lust for more. He  was already addicted to the sight, to the experience. He wanted it  again. And he set about having it.

He stroked her swollen flesh, soothing it, desensitizing it. Drenched in  tears and satiation, yet darkening with a deeper hunger, a wilder need,  her eyes seethed as she watched him perform those ultimate intimacies  on her, owning her flesh, manipulating her responses, extracting her  ecstasy.

Soon, her pleas were a litany. "No, no more … more, you … you … take me, take me, daheenah, now, now … "

"Aih, now. I will take you now, finish you, claim you, brand you. I will  plunder you and pleasure you until you weep with the satisfaction, ya  talyeti."

He rose onto his knees, kicked off his pants, cupped her buttocks in his  hands, tilted her, opened her petals. He started to invade her … and it  hit him like a sledgehammer.

He couldn't take her.

He almost keeled over her with the realization.

He did slump over her, his head to her breasts, his whole frame shuddering.

She cried out, tried to drag him up, but he resisted her, raised his  head, the words cutting him on their way out. "When we get back to the  capital. I can only take you fully then." He smoothed the look of  distress off her brow, rasped, "But I'll pleasure you now, in so many  other ways."

Understanding dawned in the pieces of heaven she had trapped in her  eyes. Then a slow, sensuous smile spread her lips. She clamped her legs  around his back, pulled him up. He acquiesced, slid over her slippery  ripeness, mingling their moans and shudders and sweat.

Once he reached her lips, she gave a throaty moan of scorching  seduction. "You can take me now. It's safe. For at least a week. You can  trust me. I'm a doctor."

So it was a safe time for her. He almost wished it wasn't, and he'd take her knowing that.

If it was up to him, he was sure. He wanted it all with her, now, no waiting. He needed her to know, everything.

"I trust you, ya habibati, with my life. And more. And I only cared, for  you." She nodded, her eyes adoring him into oblivion, the perfection of  her belief pouring fuel on his conflagration. He filled his hands with  her, unconditional love made flesh of his flesh. "And I'm safe, too."

She nipped his chin, as if chastising him for needing to voice this. She  believed he would never endanger her in any way, didn't need to be  told.

And she was opening her arms for him to fill, her beloved body  quivering, her every cherished feature emanating her need in bludgeoning  waves.

It was too much. He wanted too much. All of her. At once.

His growl sounded frightening in his ears as he sank his teeth anywhere  in her flesh on a blind swoop. They dug in where her neck flowed into  her soft, strong shoulder like that time during their ordeal when her  nearness had meant life. She jerked and threw her head back, giving him a  better bite. He took it.

He was a hairbreadth from going berserk. He tried to rein in the frenzy.

Then she made rationing his passion impossible.

"Show me how much you want me." Her voice reverberated in his brain,  dark and deep. Wild. "Give me everything, take everything, ride me,  finish me. I can't bear the emptiness … fill me."

With a growl of surrender he stabbed his fingers into her short locks,  pulled her head back for his devouring. She bombarded him with a cry of  capitulation and command. He drove her into the thin mattress with a  bellow of conquering lust. And on one staggering thrust, he embedded  himself all the way to her womb.                       
       
           



       

They arched back. Backs taut, steep curves. Mouths opened on soundless  screams at the potency of the moment. On pleasure too much to bear.  Invasion and captivation. Completion. At last.

His roar broke through his muteness as he withdrew. She clutched at him  with the tightness of her hot, fluid femininity, her delirious whimpers  and her nails in his buttocks demanding his return. He met her eyes, saw  everything he needed to live for.

He rammed back against her clinging resistance, his home inside her. The  pleasure detonated again. Her cry pierced his being. He thrust, hard,  harder, until her cries stifled on tortured squeals. Then she bucked.  Ground herself against him. Convulsed around him in furious, helpless  rhythms, choking out his name, her eyes streaming with the force of her  pleasure.

He rode her to quivering enervation. Then showed her the extent of his need, her absolute hold over him.

He bellowed her name and his surrender to her as he found his life's  first true and profound release, ecstasy frightening in magnitude,  convulsing in waves of pure culmination, jetting his seed into her  depths until he felt he'd dissolved inside her.

But even as he sank into her quivering arms, instead of being satiated, he was harder, hungrier than before.

Which didn't matter. He had to give her time to recover.

He tried to withdraw. She only wound herself tighter around him, cried out, clung to him.

"There will be more, and more, soon, and always." He breathed the fire of his erotic promise into her mouth. "Rest now."

She breathed her pleasure inside him, thrust her hips to take him deeper  inside her. "I can only if you stay inside me. I can't get enough of  you, ya harresi."