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I’m too satiated to stir when she flops on top of me, grinning like she’s won the trophy, has the blue ribbon and the crown. And, damn, yes, I’ll give her all of that. The smell of her, a combination of Justice and my musk has me closing my eyes in deepest satisfaction.
I kiss the top of her head, find my voice, barely, and promise her, “In two hours, I’m going to wake up and return the favor. Then I’m going to roll you over and fuck you until you scream my name.”
She chuckles, low and sultry. “I’ll set my clock.”
25
JUSTICE
Two hours ends up being four, but in every other way, Sandesh proves as good as his word. Electric zings still ricochet inside me from the orgasm that made me scream his name.
Now, his strong hands grip my sides and flip me over. He pulls me over to the side of the bed, and I oblige with a happy little raise of my hips. Still not high enough, so he positions me on all fours and slaps me lightly across my ass.
Saucy. I look back at him and my heart fills with something both joyful and painful. It’s more emotion than I’m used to and I need to move past it. Quickly.
“Ready when you are.”
He grins and shoves himself inside me so fast that I gasp. There’s nothing better than the feel of him entering and filling me. Except… He grasps my hips and drives into me again and again. Oh. Yes. That. Much better.
I moan with pleasure, so he knows exactly how very good this feels. He picks up the pace. The friction is so good, my body begins to hum with each slap of his body.
The heat and pressure build, a quick and coiled energy that pulls at my core,. I’m almost gone when Sandesh reaches around and rubs his thumb against my clit. I cry out, rock frantically back into him, slamming against his every demanding thrust.
Losing his tempo, he curses hotly, then regains control, and keeps pace for me. His thumb moves wetly against me as the orgasm breaks, racking me from the inside out.
Sandesh lets out a grown that’s part relief, part single-minded intent. His fingers dig into my hip bones. He pushes wild and hard, sending the tingles of my orgasm rippling through me.
His pace shatters. “Justice,” he breathes.
My name on his lips surrounds me like a declaration, and the thick heat of his come fills me like a confirmation.
A moment later, he pulls out and I crawl up the bed, leaving a space he quickly fills. I press myself to his front, and he snakes his arms around me. The blessing of him, this moment, is not lost on me. Or him. We stare at each other. The space between us heats with our heavy breaths.
When our breathing slows, his eyes turn serious and caring. He says, “In all the things I’ve seen, places I’ve been, women I’ve known, you are so solely unique, so fully yourself that…” He trails off, traces my lips, nose, and cheek with his finger. “If I were a writer, I could use words to tell you. A sculptor, clay. An artist, paint.” He runs his hand along my body and cups my ass. “But I’m a soldier, and all I have is my allegiance, so that’s what I’ll use.”
He rests his forehead against mine. “Someone has betrayed you. You’re in danger from them and Walid. I might not have started this war, but I’m in it now. With you. Where you go, I go.”
I can now see in his gaze, the declaration his body gave me moments ago. Overwhelmed, I can’t speak and don’t try because he’s looking at me as if seeing something wondrous. As if, somehow, I’ve killed him and saved him. He’s looking at me with understanding, acceptance, and affection.
And, right now, he is everywhere for me. In the heat between my thighs. The moisture in my mouth. The beat of my heart. The pull of my thoughts. The scent on my body. Everywhere is Sandesh.
26
SANDESH
Iknow the reality of my situation the moment my eyes blink open to sunlight streaming through the hotel window: Justice is gone. She fucked me into a coma then left. I fling an arm over my eyes to block the sun. This is one messed-up situation, but I know if I were given another chance at it, I’d do it all again. Justice is absolutely worth it.
Plus, I know where she lives and I’ve been expecting this. Reaching over, I grab my cell and check my email for the flight confirmation. I’ve got a couple hours.
With a groan that’s part satisfaction and part annoyance, I roll out of bed. My jeans are thrown on the floor and that isn’t good.
Shit. Knowing before I know, I check the pockets, check my bag, and even though I already understand how useless it is, I check the nightstand.
Fuck!
I’m going to kill Justice. She took my ID, passport, and multi-entrance visa. What was she thinking? Does she think she can throw me off the trail of what she and her family are doing? Does she think a couple of days stranded here will keep me from asking questions or from stepping in to help her against Walid?
Feeling like an idiot, I spike my jeans onto the floor, then drop back onto the bed. I’m part of this now, in this war that Mukta and Justice brought to my door. More importantly, Mukta Parish owes me the truth. The whole truth, not merely the bullshit Justice shared with me, but all the things I’m beginning to suspect.
