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This was the ultimate of pleasures. It stilled the sweeping sorrows that rose inside him and stilled the bleak, dark pain he kept strictly to himself.

He loved the woman he could not have through the bodies of others. He gave the greatest of pleasures that he could bestow from hands stained with blood and death. And it stilled the memories while allowing him an outlet to the brutal, dark dominance that often tormented him.

He kissed and licked at the slickened, flushed folds. He drew her clit into his mouth and lifted his lashes to watch her give her lover pleasure.

With soft fingers and silken lips, she sucked at the hard, thick flesh Chase gave her. Khalid prepared her for the pleasure to come. She moaned, her expression taut with the needs that rose inside her, her breasts peaked with hard nipples, her body arching to them.

And he gave her pleasure. He ignored the imperative demand of his own body, his cock that ached and throbbed for release. He consumed her flesh, licked and stroked, eased her entrances, and prepared them.

When Chase lay beneath her, his flesh filling the soft silk and fire of her sex, Khalid eased slowly into the gripping heat of her rear.

And it was exquisite. He knelt behind her, feeling the tight grip, the tender tissue fluttering around his cock, and closed his eyes at the pleasure.

Such intimacy. Such trust. And pleasure. He was giving pleasure, he was not giving pain. A drop of penance in the ocean of guilt that filled him. But a pleasure that whipped through his mind and dimmed the dark memories and the hungers he couldn't escape.

He moved inside her, slowly, easily, then harder, giving her what she demanded, as Chase moved beneath her, stroking her into that little death that swept through her and released her pleasure in an explosion of sensations.

Only then did Khalid release his control. His semen filled the condom he wore, shudders of pleasure tearing through him, racing to the base of his skull and filling his mind with a few, fragile seconds of peace.

Below him, Kia was whispering Chase's name. Her love flowed from her voice, but he imagined another. Another voice. His name.

As he withdrew from her, he left the bed slowly, aware that the two who continued to lie within the warmth of the bed were in their own little world.

Chase had not finished with the woman he loved. He turned her to her back, moved over her, and was taking her again.

Hunger and love filled this room, and it was no place for one such as him.

He collected his clothing and moved to the bathroom. There he disposed of the condom, cleaned the sweat from his chest and shoulders, and dressed. Moments later, he was slipping from the apartment and taking the back steps to the enclosed yard that surrounded the converted warehouse.

Abdul had parked the limo in the back as requested. As Khalid aphis chauffeur jumped from the driver's seat and moved to open the door. Khalid was gripping the doorframe, moving to step in, when a shift of shadows across the street caught, and held, his attention.

From the gloomy darkness a figure emerged. Dressed in jeans and a heavy black coat, her hands shoved into the pockets, her pale blue eyes staring back at him somberly, was the woman he knew he could not have.

He let her hold his gaze, and in hers he saw knowledge. She knew what he had just come from. She knew the secrets of him, whether he wished it or not, and that knowledge bound them. It moved through them with sorrow and with rage.

As he stared, he lifted his hand, touched two fingers to his lips, and turned them to her. She didn't move, she never responded, and his movements had been subtle enough, smooth enough, that any eyes that watched, other than hers, would not have caught the gesture.

But she did. Even across the distance he saw the flinch of her expression, and the need that filled her.

He swung into the back of the car, silent, furious, as Abdul moved around the vehicle and slid into the driver's seat.

"When we return to the house, you will prepare for a trip," he told the other man.

"Yes, Mr. Khalid. " Abdul's voice was strangely subdued.

"Have the jet waiting at the airfield. We will leave before noon. "

"Where should I tell the pilot we are going?"

The limo moved out onto the deserted street and the shadows eased in behind him.

"Away," he said softly. "We are just going away. " Away from the shadows. Away from her.

Kia curled against Chase, back in their own bed, warm and sated, and loved.

"Thank you," he whispered against her hair, his voice lazy and relaxed now.

"Thank you. " A whisper of a laugh left her voice before she stilled again. "He was hurting. "

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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