Hafiz bunched her caftan in his fists. She knew it was a silent warning. He needed to leash his sexual hunger, or it could become destructive.
She didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing left to destroy. She wanted to climb the heights with Hafiz and disregard the possibility of plunging into the depths.
Lacey wrenched her mouth away from Hafiz. Her breath was uneven as her chest rose and fell. She watched him as she tore off her caftan, revealing that she wore nothing underneath.
As she tossed her clothes on to the floor, a part of her warned her to slow down. This was not what she wanted their last night to be like. She wanted it soft and romantic. This was primal and elemental. And she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to slow down.
Hafiz shucked off his tunic, exposing his muscular chest. She reached out with the intention to trail her hand down his warm, golden skin. Instead she hooked her hand over the low-slung waistband of his jeans and pulled him close. She gasped as the tips of her breasts rubbed against his coarse chest hair.
Hafiz stretched his arms and wrapped his hands around the bedposts. His move surprised her. He didn’t gather her close or take over. He was giving the control to her.
It was a rare gift. Hafiz was always in control. She watched him as she boldly cupped his arousal. A muscle bunched in his jaw, but he said nothing. He didn’t move as she teased him with her hands. She lowered the zipper and pushed his clothes down his legs.
She wasn’t gentle as she stroked him. She felt the tension rise inside him and felt the bedposts rattle under his grip. But even a man like Hafiz had his limits. He suddenly growled and grabbed Lacey’s arms.
His kiss was hard and possessive. Her heart raced as the anticipation built deep inside her.
Hafiz tore his mouth away, and she tumbled down on to her back. She was sprawled naked before him. The ferocious hunger in his eyes made her shiver as the excitement clawed at her. She needed Hafiz, and she would go mad if she had to wait.
“Now,” she demanded. She almost couldn’t say the word, her chest aching as her heart pounded against her ribs. She rocked her hips as the desire coiled low in her pelvis.
Hafiz didn’t argue. He grabbed the back of her legs and dragged her closer. Her stomach gave a nervous flip when she saw his harsh and intense expression.
After he wrapped her legs around his waist, Hafiz ruthlessly tilted her hips. She felt exposed. Wild and beautiful. Vulnerable and yet powerful.
Her heart stopped as he drove into her. Lacey moaned as she yielded, arching her body to accept him. There was no finesse or sophistication. Her hips bucked to an ancient rhythm as she met his thrusts.
She wanted to hold on to this moment and make it last, but she couldn’t tame the white heat that threatened to overpower her. Lacey closed her eyes and allowed the sensations to claim her as she cried out Hafiz’s name.
* * *
Hours later, they lay together. Lacey’s back was tucked against Hafiz’s chest. Her long hair, tangled and damp with sweat, was pushed to the side as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. The blanket and sheets were in disarray on the floor, but Lacey didn’t feel the need to warm their naked bodies. Hafiz’s body heat was all she needed.
Lacey deliberately took an even breath and slowly exhaled. She wasn’t going to cry. Not yet. She didn’t want Hafiz’s last memory of her to include that.
She focused her attention on their joined hands, barely visible in the darkened room. She idly played with his hand, rubbing his palm and stroking the length of his fingers. Hafiz did the same, as if silently memorizing every inch of her hand.
They were so different, Lacey decided. Hafiz’s hand was large and strong. Hers was more delicate. Her job as a pianist relied on her hands while Hafiz never used his for physical labor. His skin was golden and hers was ivory.
Her fingers clenched his. She stared at their clasped hands, noticing the soft shine of Hafiz’s royal ring. She glanced at the window, her heart aching with knowing, when she saw the light filtering through the gap in the curtains.
The night had ended. Their time was over.
Lacey was reluctant to point it out. If Hafiz wasn’t going to comment on it, why should she? After all, they didn’t define when night ended. The people of Rudaynah didn’t start the day until close to noon.