A Secret Birthright(39)
The look she gave him this time, the sight of her as she trembled up to her knees, her waterfall of sunshine and ripe golden breasts swaying gently, blanked his sanity, almost made him slam into her. But the need to have her seek him, relinquish yet another notch of inhibition, overpowered even the insanity.
She lowered her head and upper body to the mattress. The total submission in her position, the devouring in her gaze as she rested her face against the dark sheets and silently demanded his domination, sent his breath hissing in his throat like steam, his erection filling with what felt like molten lead.
He still needed more. “A superlative demonstration. Now I need accompanying directions of what’s required of me.”
And she gave him what he needed. “I want you to bury yourself all the way inside me, holding nothing back, until you finish me, send us both into oblivion.”
The last tether of his restraint snapped so hard, he rammed into her with all the violence of its recoil, bottoming out in one thrust. A shout burned its way from both their depths.
“Nothing ever felt like this, Gwen,” he growled as he thrust deeper, harder into her, feeling as if he’d delved into an inferno of pure ecstasy. “Being inside you, this fit, this intensity, this perfection. Nothing could possibly be this pleasurable. But it is, you are, more pleasure than is possible. You sate me and craze me with insatiability. You burn me, Gwen, body and reason.”
She sobbed with every thrust. “You burn me, too…you fill me beyond my ability to withstand…or my ability to have enough. Oh, Fareed…the pain and pleasure of you…do it all to me…do it.”
Feeling his body hurtling into the danger zone, he put all his power behind each plunge. She writhed beneath him, thrusting back, letting him forge new depths inside her, panting more confessions, more proddings. Pressure built in his loins with each slide and thrust, each word, spread from the point inside her he was hitting deepest.
He rode her ever harder, insane for her release, for his.
Then like shock waves heralding a detonation too far to be felt yet, it started. Ripples spread from the outside in, pushing everything to his center, compacting where he was buried in her. He took her, in one more perfect fusion, and it came. The spike of shearing pleasure, his body all but charring with its intensity, slam after slam after slam of spreading satisfaction.
He pitched her forward, filled her with his white-hot release as they melted into one being, replete, complete.
An eternity passed before his senses rebooted. He heard a hum, felt it, pure contentment rising from her as she received his full weight over her back. It made him wish he could remain like this forever, containing her, covering her.
It was beyond incredible, what they shared. Every time had the exhilaration, the voracity, the surprise of a first time, yet had the practiced certainty of a long-established relationship.
After moments, with utmost regret, he had to obey the fact that he was twice her size and weight, and that no matter how much she insisted she craved feeling his weight, practical issues like blood circulation and breathing still existed.
He slid off her slippery, satin flesh, turned her limp, sated body around, gathered her into the curve of his body, locked her into his limbs. She burrowed into him, opened her lips on his pulse, her breathing settling back from chaos to serenity as she sank back into contented sleep.
He sighed in bone-deep bliss. Having her pressed to his side, having her in his life was nirvana.
He couldn’t believe it had been only a week since they’d first made love. It felt as if he’d always gone to sleep wrapped around her and woken up to her filling his arms.
Yet one thing marred the perfection.
Even though he felt their connection deepening, she was only vocal, only demonstrative when it came to physical passion. And only when he aroused her beyond inhibition.
When he’d thought he’d resolved her withdrawal the day after their first magical night, he hadn’t.
She’d woken up the next day with renewed desire to leave. He’d had to use every trick in the book of unrepentant seduction to make her relinquish her intentions.
He had, but only until the next day had dawned. She’d pulled back every morning, forcing him to recapture her each night. Then today, he’d come home running when Emad had informed him she’d been trying to arrange her departure from Jizaan.
That had driven it home that something serious was behind her persistence. But chiding her for trying to depart behind his back hadn’t shed any light on that motivation, or obtained a promise that she wouldn’t repeat her efforts. He’d given up trying, taken her in his arms, and everything had been burned away in their mutual abandon.