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“Yes, you did,Eshgham, and it’s no more than I deserve.” He sighs and looks away from me, his brows creased as he toys with a piece of hay, and the crestfallen look on his face brings me over to him.
“Look at me,JigarTalâ,” I command softly, and his eyelids flutter like they always do when I call him that. My golden liver, one of the strongest expressions of love in the Persian language. His mismatched gaze moves up to me slowly and a spark flares in my core at the look of longing in his eyes. “You deserve everything, my love,” I tell him, unzipping the hoodie and letting it fall to the ground. “Now, will you help me pass the time?”
His pupils dilate and he slowly sits up, his movements unhurried, almost reluctant, as if he thinks this is a bad idea.
“Eshgham, you’re still healing,” he whispers, getting to his knees. His hands come to my hips, his fingers teasing underneath my borrowed shirt. The stables that we met the guys in had full shower facilities, so I was able to carefully wash, with Knox’s help, and afterwards, I put back on the loose pants and shirt that I’d first woken up in, back in Tarl’s family holiday home. The rough fabric of his bandage teases my skin and sends goose bumps racing across my flesh.
“So are you,” I remind him in a breathy tone, my uninjured arm coming up and tangling in his hair. “But I want to celebrate that we’re alive,JigarTalâ, that we survived everything that has been thrown at us and not only have lived to tell the tale but are stronger for it.”
I moan when he nuzzles my stomach, his hands pulling my pants down and revealing the fact that no one gave me any underwear. The chill of the hold makes me shiver, but there’s a heat building inside me that I know will keep me warm.
“No underwear,Koshgelam?” he questions in a deep, husky growl, helping me to step out of the pants and tossing them aside. He leans in and takes a deep inhale of my scent, his short beard tickling my lower lips and another moan sounds low in my throat. “Smells so fucking good. I need to taste you.” Mindful of my arm, he takes my hand from his head and helps me to lie on the soft blanket in the hay, kneeling in between my parted thighs. “You are so beautiful,Aziz-e delam,” he purrs, his gaze drinking me in as though I am the only water he’s seen in days. “Kharâbetam.”
“I am ruined for you too,” I whisper back, watching as he lowers down, his head between my thighs. A low keen slips past my lips with the first swipe of his tongue and my hand once again tangles with his soft hair as he sets about tasting me thoroughly. He licks, sucks, and nibbles my pussy until stars burst behind my eyelids and I’m crying out his name, the sound clearly startling some horses who whinny and stamp around us, but I can’t care because it feels too damn good to keep silent. “Tarl, please!”
“Please what,Azizam?” he questions, his voice fifty shades of sinful as he raises his head and looks at me with hooded eyes, my release dripping down his short beard. He looks like an incubus, his face cast in flickering shadows by the lamp.
“Please fuck me until I can’t breathe,” I beg, holding my breath as he strips off his shirt and then unbuckles his pants.
A small sound leaves my lips when his cock springs free, and he tortures me by making me wait for him to stand up and remove his pants fully, folding them next to his boots that he took off not long after we disembarked. He kneels back between my legs, stroking his hard shaft up and down slowly, pre-cum glistening at the tip and making his piercing shine.
“You want my cock,Azizam?” he asks in a sensuous tone, biting his bottom lip until I feel like I might come from just watching him.
“Yes!” I gasp, squirming and trying to rub my thighs together, but his body is stopping me from getting the friction that I need. “Please, Tarl, I need you so badly it hurts,JigarTalâ.”
He crawls above me, my legs lifting to wrap around his trim waist. “And I swore I would never cause you pain,” he tells me, his body on top of mine, our skin pressing together in a delicious tease. Keeping off my shoulder, he lowers down until his head is right by my ear. “Unless you beg for it,” he growls, and then in one smooth thrust, he seats himself inside of me and I scream so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if they heard us in the cabin. “Because you like a little pain, don’t you,Eshgham?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, uncaring that I sound like a broken record at this point as my body gets used to his sudden intrusion. He holds himself inside me, the sharp sting of having him suddenly seated to the hilt fading as my body accepts him.
“That’s it,Koshgelam, take all of me inside that perfect fucking body,” he purrs, and I wiggle my hips, needing to feel him move more than I need to breathe.
“Please, Tarl,” I beg, my free hand coming up and gripping his shoulder, my nails digging in and leaving my mark.
“Please what,Azizam?” he quizzes in a gravelly, sultry tone, and I swear his voice is enough to bring me halfway to climax.
“Please fuck me, my love. Make it hurt and feel so fucking good that they hear my screams in the cabin.” I’m beyond caring that I’m begging with him, and if the growl of passion that rumbles in his chest is any sign, he fucking loves it. They all do.
“As you ask so prettily,Azizam,” he purrs gruffly, finally moving his hips in a slow, torturous rhythm that still leaves me panting as that fucking piercing drags up and down my inner walls. “So fucking perfect for us,” he groans between clenched teeth, our eyes locked on each other as he picks up his pace, fucking me hard into our hay mattress.
It feels like the stars in the sky have come down to caress my skin, setting me alight with every stroke, and soon I find it hard to keep my eyes open, sinking into the pleasure that his body is giving mine.
“Fuck, yes, Tarl! I love your fucking cock inside me,” I mumble, his hips thrusting faster as my words spur him on.
“You were once promised a necklace,” he whispers, his weight shifting as he brings one hand up to grasp my throat. He’s still careful to avoid my injured shoulder, his body settling onto mine while still leaving that side untouched.
“Please give me one.” My voice is a husky rasp as his fingers tense around my throat. “I want your marks on me for days,JigarTalâ.”
“It would be my pleasure, my beautiful bird,” he replies, his hand tightening further until I can only take in a tiny sliver of air. The lack of oxygen sends me higher, my body convulsing and twitching as my lungs scream but my pussy weeps and clenches around him. “So, fucking tight. You like that, don’t you,Eshgham?”
I can’t answer him as he cuts off my air completely, pounding into me harder and harder until black dots dance before my eyes. I’m helpless to stop the orgasm that rips through me, tearing me apart and remaking me in the way that Tarl demands, and his hand on my throat doesn’t loosen up as he continues to fuck me so hard I know that I’ll feel him for fucking days.
Just as the dots join up and threaten to overtake my vision, he buries himself inside me, roaring as he climaxes, his entire body going rigid as his hand contracts a fraction more. Then suddenly, he goes limp, his body crushing mine, though he still somehow stays away from the healing knife wound in my shoulder. Sweet, hay-scented air rushes into my starving lungs just as another release hits me, coating our thighs in my pleasure, his hips moving as he prolongs the ecstasy.
We stay locked together for what feels like hours, just breathing each other in and exploring what it means to be alive, and when we are fully sated, both exhausted but content, we wrap ourselves in blankets and fall asleep in each other’s arms. In this moment, I know that all's right with the world, a world that I no longer have to fear as I will never be alone again.
Lark
“Tidal Wave” by Chase Atlantic
