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“I’ve been ready.” She’d meant to yell it out, but her voice was gone it was a barely there croak.
“I also.”
But still, he took his time removing her wet panties. And then, instead of covering her with his body like she expected, he pressed her thighs wide apart and began to touch her with careful, knowing fingers.
“Zahir,” she pleaded.
“It will be easier for you if I deal with your maiden-head with my fingers.”
“What?” she gasped in a shocked whisper. And then shook her head frantically. “No. I… That’s…”
But his forefinger and middle finger were already pressing inside, pushing against the barrier that stood between her virginity and their ultimate connection. He rubbed gently, making circles with his fingertips, pressing, pressing…always pressing.
It was a dull ache, not a stabbing sting. The small pain helped bring her to a more alert awareness as Zahir started his preparation of her body for his penetration.
“You are so careful with me,” she breathed.
He gave her that smug half smile that she found more endearing than annoying. “Naturally.”
“Is it a learned trait, or bred into you, I wonder?”
“What?” he asked, but his knowing gray gaze said he had the answer already.
“Your arrogance.”
“You have met my father. It is genetic.”
Yes, she knew the king of Zohra as well as the King of her father’s country, Jawhar, and she would have to concede the point. Supreme confidence was definitely a family trait.
“Khalil and Amir do not seem quite so over the top with it.”
“I am not sure Grace or Jade would agree with you but, aziz, you should not be thinking of other men while I am doing this.” He pressed against her clitoris with his thumb and all thoughts of arrogance and his family flew from her brain.
A long, low moan snaked out of her throat as pleasure intensified in that one spot and then radiated outward. He continued the pressure massage against the thin barrier while caressing her sweet spot with his thumb in a way guaranteed to make her forget her own name.
She felt the stunning ecstasy begin to build again, this time all the more intense for knowing what it would lead to. Her body went rigid with tension, the dull ache inside her drowned in the hurricane of desire.
As the pleasure exploded he pressed through the barrier, her pleasure muting the sting of pain. She still felt it, but somehow it was natural, a moment meant only for them.
He looked into her eyes, his own so dark they appeared black. “Now, I make you mine.”
She didn’t reply. Could not form words to deny the claim and refused to face the truth of its temporary nature.
There was no need for her to respond as he moved between her legs, his engorged, steel-like hardness pushing inside her.
She could feel the stretch as her most intimate flesh strained to accommodate his. His member was much thicker than his fingers had been inside her. The sensation of not only being joined to him, but completely filled by him washed over her.
Neither spoke as he rocked gently with his hips, pressing deeper with each small thrust. Their gazes remained locked, the connection something so much more than physical. But then, she’d never expected anything else.
She loved this man with her whole heart and sharing her body with him was both spiritual and highly emotional.
Despite the obvious need making his muscles bulge from the tension of holding back, Zahir leaned down and placed the gentlest of kisses on her lips.
Tears washed her eyes, but she wasn’t ashamed of them. They seemed an appropriate reaction to this moment. He did not seemed fazed by them, either, merely tilting his lips at one corner as he brushed the moisture away with his thumb.
“Are you ready?”
She almost asked for what, but he shifted just that much and she felt a new type of pleasure. Something so intimate and primal that she could do nothing but nod.
