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Her skin was pale like cream, but there were marks all over her. Red patches on her breasts, her thighs, marks from his fingers, his stubble. He was ashamed of the surge of primal, animalistic possession he felt at the sight of that, ashamed and indescribably turned on.
“The doctor asked if this was from the explosion,” she whispered hoarsely, fingering one of the marks at the top of her breast. “I didn’t tell him it was from his Sheikh kissing me until I almost passed out.”
His lips curved in a sensual smile.
He shifted his hand to the mark, tracing the outline with fascination. It was another first for him – he’d never lost control to that extent before, to leave marks on a woman he’d made love to.
He was tempted to ask if she minded, but Sheikh Elon Katabi wasn’t a man who asked people for their opinions, even now. And yet, this wasn’t just anyone. It was Ella, the woman he was going to marry, quite possibly the mother of his child.
“And?” He drew his finger over her skin, finding another abrasion and brushing it slowly. “Did you mind bearing these marks today, Ella?”
Her blush deepened to a plum red.
His laugh was low. “Or did you like seeing this? Evidence of how wild you made me? Proof that when it comes to passion, you have made me feel as no other woman ever has?”
She gasped, obviously surprised by the admission.
“I didn’t mind.” The words were whispered so quietly he barely heard, but even without her words he understood. He knew. “But I would prefer to have had some notice a doctor was coming, so I could have attempted to cover them up a little.”
His smile was reflexive. “Duly noted.”
He glanced his fingertips lower, his touch so light fine goose bumps lifted her skin all over. When he reached her womanhood, she parted her legs obediently, wordlessly, her cat-like eyes locked to his face as he slid a finger into her warm, moist depths.
She whimpered as he moved, a plea in her eyes, and in the way her body writhed, so out of nowhere he contemplated another first – restraints. He ached, suddenly, to shackle her to a bed so he could pleasure her over and over, driving her to the point of distraction and exhaustion. What the hell was happening? Ever since he’d rescued her from the conference, he’d been consumed by a need for this woman that had, in the course of twenty-four hours, completely derailed his life.
She was so wet for him, her tight muscles convulsing around his fingers, her pleasure imminent. He wanted to feel her, he wanted to bury himself deep inside her sweet core, but first, he wanted to watch her lose herself to this pleasure, with the lights on, every hint of response visible in her beautiful face. He moved faster, one hand sliding between her legs as the other toyed with her breasts, her sensitive nipples tight beneath his palm as he moved from one to the other.
When she came, it was sudden and intense, her knees lifting towards her chest in response to the tidal wave of feeling, so it was easy for Elon to move his hand from her breasts to his pants, quickly sliding her around on the bed with her knees still clamped to her chest, sinking deep inside of her, his arms coming to rest on either side of her head.
She cried out, waves of pleasure still rocking her body even as he began to move, each thrust of his hips hard against her. He slid his hands to her shoulders, holding her still, stopping her from being driven higher on the bed, watching her the whole time, studying her reactions, his powerful frame driving her beyond the edges of this universe, her muscles tightening around his length as she exploded a second time, his own body responding with a hard-fought release, a cataclysmic explosion of pent-up desire that racked him to the core.
He didn’t believe in comparisons or hyperbole but there was no doubt in Elon’s mind that sex with Ella was a pleasure unlike any he had ever known.
The thought was enough to have him pulling away from her, mentally putting distance between them. He’d fallen in love once before and it had been a disaster. Sex wasn’t love, but he understood how easily they could go hand in hand, physical intimacy creating the illusion of something more. He would never offer that ‘more’. It was for both of their sakes and he held firm to that resolution.
“I will come to you again soon.” After all, they had a common purpose: they both wanted – needed – a baby, and they were going to enjoy making one together.
He hadn’t undressed, so desperate had he been to feel her again. He rearranged his clothes now, staring down at her with a rush of gladness. The calls for him to marry had been coming from every quarter lately – his government officers, his friends and advisors, the public, and even his sister Luna, who generally tried to stay out of his personal life. The need for an heir was tantamount. He’d had no idea how much fun he’d have trying to fulfil that requirement.
As an afterthought, he lowered his body, kissing her lips hard and fast. “Sleep, little one. Save your energy.”
