Page 52 of Midnight Shadows


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“I have to disagree,” he replied, his voice low and raw with desire.

She paused the towel-drying of her hair. She was half bent over and all he could think of was sliding behind her, holding her pebbled nipples between his fingers, and sliding into her from behind. The vision was so powerful that he actually took a step toward her.

“Junayd,” she said, her eyes darkening in reaction to the need reflected on his face.

Last night had been exquisite torture. She had kept the wall between them after their conversation. After dinner, she had disappeared. Issa told him that she had climbed up onto one of the ledges along the cliff.

It scared the hell out of him, but she had been in her element. Issa, Ziya, Kalil, and he had sat outside on the patio until the early morning hours. Gradually, he had been the only one left waiting for her to come down.

When she returned, they had quietly retreated to his bedroom where he had held her until she fell asleep. He had woken with her gone. Now, every part of him wanted the connection of burying himself in her sweet body.

He bent and captured a droplet of water hanging from her pert nipple with his tongue. She groaned and threaded her hands through his hair, holding his lips against her breast. He sucked on her taut bud while his fingers deftly loosened the string on the swimming shorts. They fell around her ankles.

“I need you now, Midnight,” he moaned.

She silently nodded and looked around. There were several chaise lounges. They would work. They were wide and thickly padded. He pointed to one of them.

“The lounge. Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

His voice was rough with need. This would not be a sweet coupling. His hands were already working on the button on his trousers. His straining cock made his teeth clench.

She walked over to the lounge and crawled onto it on her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes held a hint of vulnerability and curiosity.

Junayd released a breath at her beauty. Her smooth buttocks begged for his tender touch. She gripped the sides of the lounge, waiting for him. He shucked his shirt and trousers. His buttocks flexed when he positioned himself behind her.

He ran his hand over her hip and along her butt. She arched her back and moaned. He kneeled behind her and ran his other hand along her back.

“Junayd, I… need you,” she moaned.

He leaned forward, rubbing his cock between her legs. She released a low hiss and pushed back against him. Pleasure coursed through him. She was so responsive to him. This wasn’t just biology or chemistry. This was… love.

I love her!

A shudder ran through his body. Before, he had accepted that there was something different about their relationship. There was some kind of connection that was on a more primitive level.

He had grown up with the legends of theAlmukhtar.His parents swore they felt it. He knew they loved each other, but he never knew what that truly meant. He always suspected it was a deeper friendship, an enjoyment of being together physically without becoming bored or easily distracted, and a shared respect for each other.

Love was truly something deeper. He finally understood that. It was a feeling of completeness. The awareness of your other half when they were happy or sad or any of the myriad of emotions. Last night, when he was sitting outside while she was on the cliff ledge, there had still been a sense of peace because she was near. He understood she needed time and he would do anything to give it to her as long as she was safe.

He stared down at the curve of her back. There was something different about touching her now. It was as if there was a deeper level of awareness as he gently ran his fingers down along her silky flesh.

Tracing the line around her ribs, he leaned forward and cupped her breasts. The movement pressed her butt against his groin. His shaft brushed her soft, womanly curls. She wiggled her hips, moaning again.

“You are so beautiful,” he groaned.

She trembled, rocking against him. “I’m ready. I’m so ready for you,” she replied.

He gripped his shaft and rubbed his bulbous head against her slippery mound before pressing through her soft lips. Once the tip of his cock was in her, he gripped her hips. His breathing came out in raspy gasps as he slowly impaled her. The erotic sight of watching his cock sliding in and out of her was beautiful.

She was ready for him. The slickness of her desire coated his shaft, making his increasingly powerful strokes slide with just the right amount of friction. In the reflection of the mirrored glass, he watched her breasts gently sway as he pounded into her. Her expression was an intense vision of desire.

He wanted to capture this moment on film so he could watch it over and over. The thought of being able to do that, of seeing her expression as she came, of watching his cock disappear into her, caused a chain reaction. His cock swelled, stretching the soft walls of her scorching channel. His balls drew tighter, begging for him to push over the edge. Desperation grew and his strokes became harder, faster, and rougher.

Midnight’s body began to shake uncontrollably as the tension inside her built. A low mewling cry was ripped from her as she pressed down against the chaise and opened herself even wider to his fierce claim. He buried his shaft to the hilt, slapping against her butt as he tried to pour every inch of himself into her.

Her orgasm splintered, wrapping around him. Her desperate cries grew more frenzied and her inner muscles gripped and pulsed around his shaft, sucking on him until he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. He fell over the edge of oblivion. His seed filled her womb, and he was left gasping for breath.

“Midnight, jamilat raqisat alqumari. Ana ahbuka. Ant qalbi.”Midnight, my beautiful moon dancer, I love you. You are my heart.

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