brought it to her attention.
What did he feel about it? Concerned? Worried? Angry? Would he have taken her had he known? Would he stop now?
It was next to impossible to think of anything but being overstretched with his potency, invaded, delirious with the carnality, with the completion. She felt she’d die if he withdrew.
Then he was withdrawing, making her claw at him. “Rashid...don’t leave...don’t stop... arjook— give me...”
When he hesitated, her legs clamped around him, pulling him back into her deepest reaches. This time the cry that escaped her was one of exultation, of ecstasy.
She’d thought he’d filled her on that first thrust. He now felt as if he’d never hit bottom, as if he’d forged all the way inside her to her womb, to her heart. She trembled all over, inside and out, as if with the advance tremors of a major quake.
She arched into him, begging for what would unleash the sensations that would disintegrate her if they accumulated more.
His face clenched on what looked like suffering as he raised himself on his arms. “Stop...I’m hurting you...”
She clung harder. “Only at first—now— ya Ullah ya Rashid—the pleasure of you inside me—I never knew anything could feel like this—that I could ever feel so much pleasure. But I need more, everything, as you promised me. Give it all to me, Rashid... arjook... ”
“Anti sehr, j’noon...” His growl, declaring her magic and madness, was that of a man at the end of his tether. It zapped through her with its ferociousness, its desperation, with the hope he would finally give in, give her everything.
And he did. He drove back all the way to the recesses of her essence. Then, holding her gaze, his own as feverish as she knew hers must be, he began to move.
Each glide layered pleasure upon pleasure, burying her under an avalanche. With each stretching of her slick tissues around his invasion, she fell further apart, her surrender to his magic and madness deepening. Needing even more, her demands for it rose until his gentleness caught the fire of urgency, then ferocity, until everything was condensed into one pinpoint of absolute existence where he was plunging deepest inside her. Then it exploded.
She came apart, unraveling on shrieks of his name. She shattered then reformed around his thickness with every discharge, her core straining to drain all the pleasure he was driving into her body. He roared her name, stiffened in her arms, plunged deeper, breaching her completely as jets of his seed filled her. She writhed and wept from the sheer pleasure inundating her, with feeling his release surge against her intimate flesh, his weight and feel as he anchored her in the storm completion itself.
With her body replete to its last cell, lips open on labored breaths and his scar, the world spiraled down into a dark, safe place of contentment—the depths of his embrace....
* * *
In a dream state of pervasive bliss, sensations coalesced. She was lying on top of something hot and hard but so perfectly comfortable. And emanating steady, restrained booms.
A roughened caress swept down her back to cup her buttock. No dream had ever felt so bone-meltingly good, so mind-messingly arousing. She opened her eyes, met his.
Rashid. The best thing she’d ever woken up to.
Lying beneath her like a sleek black panther, it was evident he’d been long awake. And watching her.
Delight blossomed at the sight of him, spreading her lips, weighing down her lids, melting everything else. “I’d say good morning, but it would be the understatement of the millennium.”
His caresses continued, igniting every inch they smoothed. “A new adjective has to be coined to describe it, yes.”
Joy quivered in her heart. He thought the same in the cold light of day. He didn’t regret it.
But that look in his eyes...it was new. Nothing she understood...
“I have an adjective for last night, though. Life-changing.”
On that, too, they agreed. Though
What did he feel about it? Concerned? Worried? Angry? Would he have taken her had he known? Would he stop now?
It was next to impossible to think of anything but being overstretched with his potency, invaded, delirious with the carnality, with the completion. She felt she’d die if he withdrew.
Then he was withdrawing, making her claw at him. “Rashid...don’t leave...don’t stop... arjook— give me...”
When he hesitated, her legs clamped around him, pulling him back into her deepest reaches. This time the cry that escaped her was one of exultation, of ecstasy.
She’d thought he’d filled her on that first thrust. He now felt as if he’d never hit bottom, as if he’d forged all the way inside her to her womb, to her heart. She trembled all over, inside and out, as if with the advance tremors of a major quake.
She arched into him, begging for what would unleash the sensations that would disintegrate her if they accumulated more.
His face clenched on what looked like suffering as he raised himself on his arms. “Stop...I’m hurting you...”
She clung harder. “Only at first—now— ya Ullah ya Rashid—the pleasure of you inside me—I never knew anything could feel like this—that I could ever feel so much pleasure. But I need more, everything, as you promised me. Give it all to me, Rashid... arjook... ”
“Anti sehr, j’noon...” His growl, declaring her magic and madness, was that of a man at the end of his tether. It zapped through her with its ferociousness, its desperation, with the hope he would finally give in, give her everything.
And he did. He drove back all the way to the recesses of her essence. Then, holding her gaze, his own as feverish as she knew hers must be, he began to move.
Each glide layered pleasure upon pleasure, burying her under an avalanche. With each stretching of her slick tissues around his invasion, she fell further apart, her surrender to his magic and madness deepening. Needing even more, her demands for it rose until his gentleness caught the fire of urgency, then ferocity, until everything was condensed into one pinpoint of absolute existence where he was plunging deepest inside her. Then it exploded.
She came apart, unraveling on shrieks of his name. She shattered then reformed around his thickness with every discharge, her core straining to drain all the pleasure he was driving into her body. He roared her name, stiffened in her arms, plunged deeper, breaching her completely as jets of his seed filled her. She writhed and wept from the sheer pleasure inundating her, with feeling his release surge against her intimate flesh, his weight and feel as he anchored her in the storm completion itself.
With her body replete to its last cell, lips open on labored breaths and his scar, the world spiraled down into a dark, safe place of contentment—the depths of his embrace....
* * *
In a dream state of pervasive bliss, sensations coalesced. She was lying on top of something hot and hard but so perfectly comfortable. And emanating steady, restrained booms.
A roughened caress swept down her back to cup her buttock. No dream had ever felt so bone-meltingly good, so mind-messingly arousing. She opened her eyes, met his.
Rashid. The best thing she’d ever woken up to.
Lying beneath her like a sleek black panther, it was evident he’d been long awake. And watching her.
Delight blossomed at the sight of him, spreading her lips, weighing down her lids, melting everything else. “I’d say good morning, but it would be the understatement of the millennium.”
His caresses continued, igniting every inch they smoothed. “A new adjective has to be coined to describe it, yes.”
Joy quivered in her heart. He thought the same in the cold light of day. He didn’t regret it.
But that look in his eyes...it was new. Nothing she understood...
“I have an adjective for last night, though. Life-changing.”
On that, too, they agreed. Though
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