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“It’s true you did. You are a wild woman in your soul. And I find that it is a beautiful thing.”
She would not have made a sheikha. She was too... Untamed. She was not what Riyaz needed. But for him... For Cairo she would be perfect.
He pulled her away from the window, turned her so that she was facing him, and still keeping her wrists captive, brought her against his body, claimed her mouth in a deep, hard kiss. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “And mine.”
“You said that,” she whispered.
“And I will keep saying it. Until it is a tattoo on your soul. Until you know it as well as you know it is time to draw a breath lest you perish. You were always mine, Ariel.”
And it was good that he was doing this. Because the alternative would be to betray his brother once he had already taken her as his wife. Cairo knew his limitations, and Ariel Hart was the hardest of those limitations. She was the one thing he could not resist. The one thing he could not endure.
And he would’ve had her. “Was that your first orgasm?” he asked, his mouth close to hers.
Her cheeks turned pink, and she nodded slowly.
“Did you like it?”
“It makes me want things. Wild things. Things I never would’ve thought I could want.”
“Yes. That is the problem with pleasure. It can turn us into strangers to ourselves. Can make something that would not sound appealing at all the most enticing thing on earth. I wish to feast upon you. Lay you open on that bed for me and lick you until you scream my name.”
Interest sparked in the depths of her eyes, and she shivered. “What are you waiting for, then?”
He growled and lifted her up, setting her down on the center of the bed and forcing her knees apart. He looked down at her, the flushed, swollen heart of her, slick with her desire for him. “Tell me who is about to pleasure you, Ariel.”
“Cairo,” she said.
“I gave you an orange in the garden to show you the pleasures of my country. And now I will feast upon you like you’re ripened fruit, to show you the pleasures of your own body. I will give you everything good. I take care of what is mine.” He pressed his thumb against the pearl between her swollen lips and rubbed it slowly across that sensitized flesh. She moaned and shook, and he slid his thumb down and penetrated her slowly. Then he leaned forward, kissing her inner thigh before sucking the source of her pleasure into his mouth until she cried out. He licked her, savoring the flavor of her as he moved his fingers in and out of her body.
“Cairo,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Yes,” he growled. He did not feel like a civilized man. He was the barbarian warrior of his people’s past. And he had claimed a woman. She was his war prize. Not Riyaz’s. She was his. He had claimed her. He was the one that had righted the wrongs that had been done against their family. It was not Riyaz’s fault that he had been a prisoner. That his hands had been bound and he had not been able to claim revenge. But Cairo had done so. He had deposed the imposters. The woman should be his.
And he would claim that honor before his brother. He vowed it.
He licked and sucked, rubbing two fingers within her slick channel until she found her release again. And then again.
Until she was begging him to stop. Even as she clung to his shoulders to keep him from moving away.
She was becoming ready for his possession. And the idea of it caused his masculinity to harden painfully.
He moved up her body, kissing her stomach, sucking her nipple deep within his mouth. She had the most perfect body. Because it was hers.
“Are you ready for me?”
He was still fully clothed. And he moved away from her, taking his shirt off slowly. He watched as her eyes widened, as hunger darkened them.
When he removed the rest of his clothing, he saw a bit of fear there. He was not a small man. It was true. But her fear turned to hunger after only a moment. She sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. She kissed his stomach, down to his Adonis belt and to the sensitized crown of his arousal, where she ran her tongue around the head of him before taking him inside of her mouth. He growled, gripping her hair with his hand. And pushed himself deeper into the welcoming heat of her mouth. He should have a care because of her innocence, he thought at first. But then... She should know. She should know what sort of man she was allowing into her bed. There was something to be said for starting as you meant to go on. And now that she was his...
Theirs was not a gentle desire. Why pretend that it was?
He rocked his hips forward and back, and she took him as deep as she could, swirling her tongue around his length as she did.
When he was close, too close, he moved away from her. He put his hand between her legs and found her slippery for him still, and he kissed her mouth, moving her back onto the bed as he positioned himself between her thighs. He pressed himself to the entrance of her body and entered her slowly. She closed her eyes, arching her back up off the bed as he moved into her, inch by agonizing inch.
He growled as he thrust fully home, and she gripped his shoulders hard, digging her fingernails into his flesh. He took the pain as his due, as he was certain the breaching of her maidenhead had caused her pain as well.
This should hurt. It was right that it be painful. They had waited so long. It should be everything.
