She tensed, a whimper escaping her. He pinched at her clit through the panties, then slid a finger under the fabric, the slick folds of her pussy welcoming him. He moaned in her ear, pinching and massaging her clit, and then slipped a finger inside her. Heat flooded him. Her pussy was softer and tighter than he could have imagined. He took a soft bite of her shoulder, working his fingers in and out, thumb knocking against the base of her clit.
Annabelle clutched at his forearm, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth, rocking slightly beneath her, desperate to feel her wrapped around him, but not before she had her own peak under the stars.
Imaad rubbed at her, breathing heavily into her ear, her hips bucking and tensing as he worked her. She whimpered, head lolling back over his shoulder, and then she stilled against him, mouth caught open.
A little groan emerged, and then her breath hitched. “Ohhh, Imaad!” He didn’t let up, not for a second.
“Look up.” He rolled her clit between his fingers, watching as she came undone in his arms, her eyes popping open to look at the sky as she shuddered with pleasure.
Her chest heaved for a few moments, and he dragged his lips over her bare shoulder, loving the sticky, sweaty seal between them, the dampness on his fingers, the hazy euphoria she wore like a cloak.
“Fuck.”
He laughed, nipping at her earlobe. “How was that orgasm under the stars?”
“Life changing.” She came to her knees, eyes glinting. “And now it’s your turn.”
Imaad welcomed her on top of him as she bent her legs behind her, settling on top of the bulge in his briefs. “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, dragging his lips over the tops of her breasts.
“I don’t care.” She skimmed her nipples across his face. “I have an IUD.”
He pushed his underwear down, cock springing free. She cooed as she rubbed her palm up and down his length, sending a powerful shudder through him. He cupped her breasts as she settled into place again.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered, yanking aside her panties. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
His mouth parted as she sank down on top of him, her velvety heat wrapping around him like the most precisely fitting glove. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation hijacked his brain, rendering him immobile and useless in the presence of such a powerful pussy. She giggled, sinking down on top of him until there was no more space left. Her breath hitched once he was buried to the hilt, and she rocked on top of him, starting a slow rhythm, one that made him grunt with pleasure.
“Jesus.” Her breath came out in short puffs as she rode him, rocking in devilishly slow circles on top of him. “I could stay here all night.”
“Please.” He tilted his head back, and her lips found his, the tangy floral scent scorching through him, as if she’d branded him. She bounced on top of him, her heavy breasts jiggling at his chin, and he groaned, grabbing at her hips, desperate for her to slow down and draw this out but unwilling to make her stop.
“You feel…” The rest of his sentence withered in the air between them, and she rode him harder, bucking like a wild animal on the plains, her silky heat crashing down and then rising up, over and over again, until his head spun and the dam broke and every bit of pent up energy rushed forward at once.
He groaned low and gravelly, gripping at her hips, letting out a guttural noise that traveled through the Salt Desert like a cry from a wandering animal. Annabelle didn’t let up, bucking against him, and he came so long and hard that his head dropped to her chest.
Annabelle breathed heavily against him, running her fingers through his hair. Nobody said anything for a long time.
Once his head cleared enough to speak, Imaad looked up at her, found a warm and secret smile waiting for him.
“I saw stars,” he croaked, arms fastened around her, sweat pooling in the crease of his elbows. “But they were in my eyes.”
Annabelle grinned, kissing his forehead. “I’d say that counts.”
9
Annabelle returned to her hotel room around noon the next day, feeling a lot like her walk of Shame had originated in the bowels of Hell. When she woke up sweating and confused on the same tiny mattress as Imaad, her breasts exposed, the scorching sun brought clarity to her mind. Burnt away all that lusty fog that had rolled in the night before like a poison gas.
Her neatly stacked clothes in her hotel room and the piles of documents reminded her of her job here, the one job she had to do. Merge the companies. Regret piled around her like mountains, as high and sandy as the dune they’d fucked on the night before.
She squeezed her eyes shut. What had gotten into her? It hadn’t even been a full moon, one of the excuses that occurred to her during the mostly-awkward return trip to Minarak. So she couldn’t blame it on that. Hell, she didn’t even have alcohol as a crutch. They’d been sober as birds.
Imaad’s strong arms circling her waist, his biceps bulging, flashed through her mind, and she crumpled into the chair. Why was he so sexy? And now, they’d fucked. Without protection, no less. In the middle of the goddamn Salt Desert.
If she’d only been sent here to merge the companies, it would be considered a work trip faux pas, at best. But now the man was not only her future business partner but also—technically—her fiancé, one she didn’t want, their looming marriage no more than a sham. This would only make life intolerably awkward from here on out, and it was entirely her fault.
You could have not kissed him again. You’d said no. You got him to stop. But then you took it further.
Saying no to a man like Imaad was not in her nature. Business partner be damned. And she couldn’t regret those orgasms, either. They had rocked her senseless, sent her into outer space. Every metaphor coined by eighties rockers applied to those orgasms.