CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT MIGHT HAVE been because of the mystical aspect of the predawn morning or it might have been because of the state of her nerves—probably it was just him—but Farah gave up all thought of resisting. Instead she opened to him, lost in the mindless passion that he had started inside her.
Raising her arms she wound them around his neck and arched into his rough, restless hands as they skated over her back and met at her bottom, lifting her onto her toes.
He growled low, the sound rough and exciting. Her body answered it with a flood of moisture at her core. Fevered, Farah clutched at his shoulders, lifting herself higher, her body searching for that perfect alignment with his, that perfect amount of pressure that would ease the ache. Oh, there it was, right there! ‘Zachim!’
He swallowed his name with his kiss and brought both hands up to cup her breasts. Farah nearly died as pleasure knifed through her. She arched more fully against him, seeking more, wanting—oh, yes, wanting—him to lightly pinch her nipples. Her body bowed toward his, seeking more. Had anything ever felt this good, this perfect? She nuzzled her nose against his neck, planting open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his cheek, wherever she could reach.
He turned his head, his mouth capturing hers again, his hands squeezing her gently, his fingers teasing, one muscled thigh wedged between hers, stroking the flames higher.
Suddenly his touch on her breasts wasn’t enough and she nearly whimpered with ecstasy as his hand trailed over her stomach and curved between her legs. She felt like she was standing on some kind of tightrope, her whole body like a finely tuned instrument waiting for the master player to stroke the correct parts, her focus completely centred on the heat of his palm cupping her.
He hitched her higher, one arm hooked below her bottom as he bent forward and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. Farah cried out and clutched at him to hold him close.
‘So beautiful. So...sweet.’ He rolled her nipple between his teeth and then drew on her rhythmically, his fingers playing with the lace of her panties between her legs. Dimly she thought that she should stop him and then her brain reminded her that they were married. That he was allowed to touch her like this. That she was allowed to lift her hips towards his hand and widen her stance to make it easier for him to... She groaned long and low and her head hit the wall when his fingers slid beneath the lace.
Which was when she remembered, and her head snapped forward. ‘I didn’t— That is, I’m not—’ She clamped one hand over his to stay his exploration.
‘You’re not what, habiba?’
His finger moved along the folds of her most private place and she completely forgot what she was or what she wasn’t. Nothing mattered except the delicious sensations he evoked as he stroked her and pressed deep.
With her eyes blissfully closed, Farah was completely unprepared when Zach dropped to his knees and ripped her flimsy panties from her body.
Her eyes flew to his. ‘Oh. I... You...’
‘Shhh,’ he whispered, lifting one of her thighs and draping it over his shoulder, opening her to him. ‘I need to taste you.’
Lost in a rush of liquid heat Farah gripped his hair as his tongue lapped at her, part of her wanting to pull him away and another, much more wanton part, wanting to pull him in closer.
The wanton part won out and he rewarded her with long firm strokes of his tongue. ‘That’s it, habiba, let yourself go.’ His lips latched on to a part of her that made her body tighten with anticipation and she no longer knew exactly what he was doing to her or what part of himself he was doing it with, every cell in her body assaulted by a kaleidoscope of sensation it was stretching to reach. ‘You taste so good,’ he crooned between licks. ‘Hot and sweet.’
‘Zachim, Zach—please, please, I...’ She didn’t know what she was asking him for but suddenly she screamed as sensation ripped through her body, holding her for one brief, paralysing moment before tossing her into a maelstrom of pleasure that had her falling, falling...
‘I’ve got you.’ Dimly she was aware of his hand between her legs, of his fingers pushed up inside her, locking her into place, absorbing the shudders that wouldn’t seem to stop while he held her against him.
She could hear her own harsh breathing but she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t... ‘What did you just do to me?’
His mouth lingered on hers, easing her back down to earth. ‘I gave you an orgasm.’ Masculine satisfaction coated each word.