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She removed the bed covers for him to come under them. “You shouldn’t have come with this weather!” She enveloped him in the covers and held him close to her. His scent of rain and the man which she loved, her senses taking in and recognising his presence, while her warm bed cocooned them.
“My bed was even colder!” His arms closed around her, making her shiver with his damp skin and with his ardent caresses. Their legs entwined while his dexterous hands untied her night rail. Shoulders and breasts bared, he rolled the hem up her legs. He merged his face in her hair, revelling in its perfume and smoothness.
His wet haired head came down on her breast, mouth licking the sensitive pebbled tip as she moaned in pure delight. “You have irresistible breasts!” He took it deep in his mouth and she soared almost delirious with the hot sensation. Her head bent back and her hands immersed in his obsidian wet hair. His desire rock-hard against her legs.
“Waiting the whole day for you has made me impatient, Lucinda.” He took her other breast between his teeth and his hand slid to her core. “I need you.” He found her hot and ready. “Now!”
Incredible how they needed merely to be near one another for their bodies ignite to combustion levels and drive them to utter derangement. The attack on her senses rendered her weak and pliant. His caresses on her breasts together with his torturous fingers inflicted a cross-fire on her body. She just opened for him to do whatever he wanted with her.
And he did.
With inexorable carnal passion.
As only he knew how.
He came to the cradle of her bent knees and invaded her with urgency in a long stroke to his hilt. He embraced her under her back as though he clung to a lifeline, with ragged breaths. His head buried in the curve of her throat, trying desperately to hold back as much as he could.
Lucinda lost contact with the world around her. The rain continued to whip the glass, the fire still burned in the fireplace, a distant thunder sounded, but she was oblivious to that. Only Tariq and the tormenting delectable way he moved in her existed in the night. She moved to take everything he offered, her craving escalating to unbearable point.
Tariq thrust in her deeper and deeper, never getting enough, in a frenzy of need. He’d given up, for his self-control had crashed. He grunted and plunged blindly, her taste, her womanly scent contributing to his imminent downfall.
But Lucinda reached the verge of crumbling as she sought him with increased eagerness, and her legs circled him as his thrusts mined her resistance more and more. A collision of hot waves erupted in her, and she had to clamp her lips not to cry out loud with dismaying pleasure.
Her contractions brought the end of him as he thrust towards his debacle shamelessly. He gave in to madness, grunting and losing himself in her, inundating her with his release. He fell on her defeated, their bodies given to each other, sated and breathless.
Peace took them at last and carried them to a slumbering rest.
In the small hours, Lucinda opened her eyes first. The rain had doused to a drizzle out in the world and the fire faded slowly. She looked at Tariq’s head on her breasts. Sleeping, he resembled a languid lion, his tousled obsidian hair falling on his forehead, his stubble tickling her skin and his arms holding her possessively. She wished they would enjoy such moments every night of her life, she sighed, and caressed his now dry sleek hair.
Tariq lifted his head and eyed her, still drowsy. Then he lay back and brought her with him. They remained like this for long minutes.
Suddenly, she lifted her head and sought his gaze. “I’m returning to London tomorrow.”
“Why?” His lazy silky voice thicker in the night.
She got up, rearranged her night rail and walked to the fire place. “I promised my parents I’d be there for Easter.”
“And then what?” He’d sat up on crumpled sheets.
She started putting logs in the fire. “They’d agreed to let me travel to Sicily, implying I should choose a husband when I returned.”
At this, he leapt out of bed as a hunting feline. He stalked to the fireplace without bothering to cover his powerful body. “No, you won’t!”
“Yes, I will!” She took the poke to pull the logs together. “I have to fulfil my duties.”
“I told you I’ll thrash any man who comes near you!” He said coming in front of her and glaring at her furious.
Exactly as she felt when she thought about any other man touching her but him.
She sighed wearily, leaving the poke aside. “We’ve been through this just this afternoon, Tariq.” She brushed a lock of dried-dates hair from her cheek, facing him. “It hasn’t changed since then.” She made a hopeless gesture with her hands.
He strode to where his clothes lay and dressed his sirwaal in brusque movements. “Right.” He lifted his hands in signal of understanding. “But promise me one thing.”
Their eyes met serious; his illuminated by the fire, which emphasized the cognac shade. “What?” She asked.
“That if you’re with child, you’ll come to me.” He neared her.
A difficult thing to promise. It depended on her knowing if she expected and when the signals would manifest themselves. “I cannot promise this, Tariq.” Her regretful tone wasn’t lost on him.
