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“You’re supposed to obey, when I tell you to!” Those fetching mounds muddled his concentration.
“You have no authority over me.” His eyes caused her nipple to harden. Her breath shortened and she flushed.
Locks of obsidian hair fell on his forehead. His tallness dominated the tent, emanating raw masculinity, emphasised by his day-long stubble.
A lopsided humourless smile drew his sensuous lips “The simple reality that I am holding you in hostage, gives me rights over you!” The statement smug and arrogant infuriated Lucinda more than she would admit.
Her green eyes had darkened and her full lips parted in shock. The truth of his words and the presumption that male supremacy listed as common practice in his culture made a wave of wrath surface like a volcano. “I am nobody’s and I will never be!” She breathed imprinting contempt in it.
Tariq’s blood boiled. Her defiance to his commands would always make him see red and harden certain parts of him in the process. “That can be rectified.” Velvety voice hoarse. Two steps and he reached her. One arm behind her knees, another on her narrow waist. She gasped when he lifted her effortlessly, the sudden movement making her long hair come loose and billow around her. Assertive masculine feet marched purposefully to the bed and put her there as he came over her.
Their eyes battled, their short breaths mingle
d. A dash of heat crossed her body.
“You drive me insane!” He breathed and in a second his sensuous mouth pillaged hers in a molten kiss which she reattributed in equal measure.
Hell broke loose. The last days’ frustration and forceful self-control took their toll. The need for each other prevailed. His arms embraced her under her back, her legs cradled him, then held him. Their mouths glued in hotter and hotter kisses. She gasped, he moaned, every clear thought banned. Lucinda’s control vanished as searing passion threatened to dissolve her.
He continued plundering her with his wide-open kisses and one of his hands sneaked under her tunic and found her pebbled breast. The agonising sensation darted directly to her core producing gasp from the bottom of her throat.
Tariq had his insides twisting with crave for her as her response to him fuelled his already unbearable hunger. Nothing mattered, no one mattered. But here. And her.
His stubble grazed her skin as his mouth left hers and descended warm to her neck. He made her take out her tunic, baring her full dusky breasts to him, he perused amazed over her beauty. Mouth and hands feasted on the full mounds, clinging to them as if his life depended on them.
Her hands anxiously sought his skin under his kaftan. Unwillingly, he lifted his torso and took it off himself. Their eyes meshed, hot and so voracious, all cares thrown to the desert wind.
The sight of his broad shoulders and large chest, sprinkled with black hair, trailing a straight line to his bulked pantaloons, enchanted her. He came down again and kissed her with doubly thirsty urgency. His hot skin in contact with hers, his haired chest tickling her breasts made her wanton and febrile.
Now he nipped her throat, her chest and captured one breast. She arched and gasped with the acute pleasure assailing her. His hot breath on her skin, his teeth torturing her as his other hand teased her nipple. Brazen moisture coated her core. Her fingers merged in his sleek obsidian hair, keeping him where he made her desperate for more. His hands caressed her everywhere, incandescing the whole of her.
She needed to see him in all his magnificence. His pantaloons must disappear. He lifted, hastily completing the task and did the same to her. They gobbled at each other. He was gorgeous, long muscled legs, his very, very hard member protruding, eager for her. A feverish sensation dominated her, making her anxiously famished for everything he could give her.
Tariq had lost the power of speech, his throat clogged with fire at the sight of her. “Beautiful!” He managed in a hoarse low voice. And then his mouth fell between her legs, throwing her in a vacuum of delight. He caressed and licked and savoured driving her to desperation.
She couldn’t take it anymore. Her sense of hollowness, incompleteness, in total starvation undeniable. “Tariq…” She moaned. “I need …I need…” She didn’t know what she needed, but she knew he was able to fulfil this irrational want.
Her words raised his temperature a thousand-fold, but a coherent answer escaped his foggy mind. The torment of her flesh continued as he extricated moans from her with single-minded intent.
He lifted his head, his cognac eyes dark and hazy. “Lucinda, I cannot stop. I must have you!” His body burned for her on the verge of derangement.
She pulled him up, the urge for satisfaction so intense, the rest balled in a blur. He came to her. She didn’t give him time, she pulled him to her. He was so enthralled he offered little resistance.
“Wait, Lucinda.” His breathed a plead. “Wait!” He tried to command, but she didn’t care for his orders. Inadvertently, he plunged in her. “Ooohhh!” He groaned, being sheathed so tightly in her hot moisten body. Lost, he was simply lost. Completely. Inescapably. Taking her meant the ultimate defeat, the ultimate victory. Lacerated with the imminent explosion, body overtaken by urgency, his mind maddened, his soul wrenched. This was more, wretchedly more than anything he’d experienced in his life.
The first fill of him delicious, she moaned. And then a sharp sensation tore at her and she panted for control.
Tariq stopped, even if he had become so hard he wanted to pound blindly. “I told you to…”
But next minute the discomfort left her, replaced by inexorable hunger. She started to move, seeking more of him. Their bodies matched so precisely, their passion so reciprocated, their souls so merged, it was like they’d melded in each other. They locked in a tight embrace, moving in unison, nothing in this world would make them apart at that moment.
Doom approached with fearful speed. He began moving deep in her. No memory of him being ever so frittered, so out of himself. He thrust in her, his face hidden in the curve of her neck, trying not to go so fast. He’d soon be undone. But she wouldn’t let him stop, she urged him, demanded more. And he had no choice but careen towards downfall.
His flesh thrust further and further while she clenched him with a cry at her climax. Once, twice. On the third, he fell in an abyss of dark pleasure, moving and moving until total satisfaction hit them both. Something far, too far from usual happened here. It hadn’t been only his body. A deeper factor played in him. Sensations beyond pleasure. So consuming and surrendering, he didn’t understand it. He crumbled on her, panting, completely spent as an unprecedented peace enveloped him. Never in his life did he witness such a thing.
They remained joined in a tangle of arms and legs for a long time, wrapped in a world of their own. Twilight had faded, and the tent merged in dimness.
Lucinda lay in a state of bliss. The women in her country did not prepared for this shattering experience. She hadn’t had the remotest clue it could be like this. And if someone asked her whether she regretted it. No, absolutely not. And drag the rest of her life ignoring what it meant to feel alive? Unthinkable. Logically, she’d have to bear the consequences. And they’d be heavy. She’d face them when the time came. For once, she’d think only of herself, instead of worrying about the burden of morality, so heavy on women, she reckoned.
