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“Why?”
He pushed his chair back and stood to his full height, moving towards her and extending a hand. “Because you’re sexually frustrated, and that’s my fault.”
“Yes, it is your fault,” she stayed in her seat, so that he groaned and knelt before her.
“Because you just wanted to feel this,” he lifted his hand between her legs, finding her underwear and pushing it aside, so his thumb could brush against her most sensitive cluster of nerves. “You’re a twenty two year old virgin, and you’re my wife, and I want you to feel every pleasure you have ever imagined.”
And before she could answer, he slipped a finger between the apex of blonde curls between her thighs, his own breathing ragged when he felt her warm, moist core.
“Raffa,” she whimpered, turning her body more fully to grant him better access. “Raffa!”
And through the fabric of her dress, he lifted his hand and palmed her breast, cupping the weight of her in his large, strong hand, brushing his thumb and forefinger over her nipples, plucking them until they were hard and aroused.
“I don’t need you to beg for me because I want to demean you,” he said, kissing her roughly before dragging his lips down her throat and nipping her flesh at the base of her neck. “I need to hear you say you want this. I need to know this is okay.”
His confession did something to Chloe,
infiltrating her dark spaces, spreading warmth over a coldness that was locked deep in her heart. There was true desperation in the words, something close to self-condemnation.
Chloe shifted a little, so she could see his face more clearly.
Hadn’t she sworn she’d be cold in his arms? Hadn’t she promised herself she wouldn’t respond to him?
What foolish, petty resolutions! He was a man, and she was a woman, and this fire that burned between them needed to be addressed, needed to be quenched – or flamed? She didn’t know! Only that she couldn’t lie to him about her body’s wants any longer.
“I want you to make love to me more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.”
His eyes sparkled with a primal heat, a searing sense of victory, and then he nodded.
“And so I shall, sheikha.”
5
HE HAD KNOWN SHE was innocent when they’d married, and if he hadn’t, the way she’d responded to his touch would have told him the truth of her experience. But as he kissed her now, Chloe’s body responded to his in a way he’d never known.
She anticipated every move, her fingers lacing with his, her mouth seeking him, trailing warm kisses down his shoulders, his arms, to his chest, teasing him, tasting him, so that he was almost incoherent with desire.
He worshipped her body as she did his, and when she was feverish with longing, almost exploding with how much she needed him, he brought his arousal to her sweet womanhood and hitched his tip at her entrance.
“I will be gentle,” he promised, and he kissed her, softly, sweetly, as he nudged himself deeper inside of her, lifting her hips with a hand behind her buttocks, tasting her surprise as he stretched muscles that had never been used before.
She stilled when he moved deep enough to find the barrier of her innocence and he cursed inwardly, hating more than anything the necessity of paining her, of doing anything that wouldn’t please her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, and curled her legs around his back, pulling him deeper, all the way in. He’d never known anything like it; she was so tight around his length and yet he fit perfectly.
“Don’t stop,” she said again.
He lifted up on his elbows, just high enough to see her face, to reassure him that she was okay.
“I want this.”
He nodded, and pushed deeper inside of her. Now that the barrier had been swept away, and the moment of discomfort passed, each stroke of his arousal ran against her most sensitive cluster of nerves, so that every breath brought her closer to something she’d never known, never felt.
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders then scored them down his back, moaning as he moved harder and faster, deeper and fuller, and then the build-up of pressure couldn’t be stemmed for a moment longer. She lifted up, so that she could kiss him, as her whole body seemed to spin apart from the seams, the centrifugal force of her pleasure threatening to take her into the heavens.
“Raffa,” she pleaded the word into his mouth, she didn’t know what she was asking, only that she needed this, more of this, all of this.
He understood, holding her close, letting her ride the waves of her orgasm before he moved again. She realized now that he had been being gentle before. Now, he thrust into her with a desperate, primal rhythm and as his arousal possessed her, his mouth ran over her breasts, sucking on her nipples until she was crying out at the pleasurable assault on her senses.
