“They’re ugly.”
“No, they are not.”
There was no arguing with such an implacable tone and she didn’t really want to. Was it possible the blemishes truly didn’t bother him?
“I have some on the sides of my knees as well.” She never wore short dresses because of them.
His attention was no longer on the old flaw. It had strayed along with his hands to the generous curves of her breasts. She felt them swell and tighten in response and a small moan escaped her. He bent down, lowering his head until she had no doubt of his intention.
Her breath froze in her chest as she waited for the incredible pleasure of his mouth on her. Only when it came, it landed first on one of the scars. His tongue traced where his fingertip had before and her moan this time was much louder. His mouth swiftly braced over her body until he closed it over one now turgid peak and her body involuntarily bowed off the bed, pushing her excited flesh more firmly into his mouth. Her eyes closed on the exquisite pleasure. She cried out when his hands grasped her rib cage, keeping her pressed against his mouth while he kissed, nibbled and sucked in an ever increasing circular pattern over first one breast and then the other. He was very thorough, giving every centimeter of sensitized flesh erotic attention.
He lifted his head and she gasped in protest at the loss of his pleasurable ministrations.
“You said your knees have these small marks as well?”
“What?” she got no further as his fingers began a comprehensive inspection of the area around her knees, pressing her legs apart so he could touch the stretch marks on her inner knees as well.
“I must admit, when I am here, such tiny scratches cannot hold my attention. I find other things of far more interest.”
Catherine knew exactly what he meant as his fingertips started a slow glide up her inner thigh and she had to admit her stretch marks had stopped mattering to her with the fist stroke of his tongue several minutes ago. Just remembering what it had felt like when he had touched her between her legs before had her aching, burning and squirming against the silk coverlet.
“Hakim?”
“Hmm?” his fingertips were on the hypersensitive flesh just before the juncture to her thighs.
“Could you put the scarf back on the lamp?”
She felt vulnerable, open and naked to his gaze and the harsh light only increased that feeling.
“Is that what you really want?” as he asked the question his fingers trespassed her most intimate flesh, finding tissues wet and swollen in preparation for their joining.
“Oh…my…gosh…” she panted as one masculine digit slid inside her untried body.
He pressed forward until she flinched with pain. He did not draw all the way out, only far enough that the discomfort left. “You are very responsive.”
He delighted her too, but she couldn’t get the words past eh constriction in her throat.
“I want you so very much, but you must be made ready.” There was no mistaking the sincerity of his statement. His voice sounded tortured.
“I’m ready now, ” she fairly screamed as he began moving that one finger in and out, stretching her, exciting her.
“No, but you will be. It is my responsibility as your husband and your lover to make it so.”
She would have answered, but his thumb had found her sweet spot and her vocal chords were only capable of moans.
“There is an ancient tradition among my grandfather’s people for the women to prepare the bride for her husband by dispensing with the maidenhead. Thus there is no pain on the wedding night.” His deep voice mesmerized her. “However, I must admit to a primitive satisfaction in knowing you have left this privilege to me.”
“You’re not going to do it so long as it’s only your hand on me.” It had been a struggle to get the words out.
His laughter was low and rich. “Ah, little kitten, you are so innocent. I could indeed, but I prefer to wait for my complete possession of you.”
“Are we—”
The feel of a second finger joining the first inside her cut off the question of whether he intended to wait all night to make that possession.
She felt full and only slightly uncomfortable as he made the same motions with two fingers he had made with one. Tension built inside her, a now recognizable strain toward fulfillment. Just as she felt the precipice near, he withdrew his hand.
Her eyes, which had been closed in ecstatic pleasure, flew open and she looked at him, but all she saw was the top of his head as he did something she was totally unprepared for. As his mouth settled over intimate flesh she instinctively tired to arch away, but strong fingers held her hips in place.
“Hakim. Oh, Hakim. Please… Oh, my gosh! It’s too much. Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”