Sheikh Without a Heart - Page 79

God, he needed to touch her.

Cup her breasts with his hands. Brush his fingers over her erect nipples. Put his mouth to the heart of her, let her feel the heat of his tongue between her thighs.

He looked up. Watched her face. Reached out slowly, brushed his fingers over her nipples. She gasped, and he bent his head, kissed her mouth, her throat, her breasts …

Drew one rosy bud between his lips.

She sobbed his name, shuddered. Her head fell back and she cried out with pleasure.

It almost undid him.

He drew her down with him onto the bed. Go slow, he told himself. Go slow …

Her body was hot against his.

Her mouth was soft.

And his erection was so hard it was almost painful.

“Rachel,” he said unsteadily, and she wound her arms around his neck, and somehow, somehow, her nightgown was ruched around her hips and somehow, somehow, his hand was between her thighs and she was wet and hot and slick, and he found that sweet nub that was the essence of her, and when he did she arched against his hand and gave a cry that made him rear back, tear off his clothes and pull open the drawer of the nightstand.

He found a condom. Fumbled with it. And then—

Then he was inside her.

A groan tore from his throat.

Rachel was tight around him, so tight he was afraid he’d hurt her, and he went still, his body trembling with the effort, holding back, letting her stretch to accommodate him. But she wouldn’t let that happen. She was sobbing, moving against him, moving, moving, moving …

She said his name. He could feel her trembling; she was on that razor-thin edge of eternity with him.

Could a man’s entire life have been meant to bring him to this one moment?

He thrust forward, harder, deeper, faster. She whispered his name again and then she screamed in ecstasy.

And Karim let go of everything—the pain of the last weeks, the rigidity of his life—and flew with her along the moonlit path into the heart of the night sky.

He collapsed over her, his body slick with sweat.

His face was buried in the curve of her shoulder, her hair was a silken tangle and he loved the feel of it against his lips. His heart was pounding; so was hers. He could feel it beating hard against his.

He knew he was too heavy for her but he didn’t want to move—not if it meant giving up this moment. Rachel’s skin against his skin, her arms around him, her legs wrapped around his hips …

She gave a little sigh.

He sighed, too, rolled to his side and drew her into his arms.

“Are you all right?” he said softly.

Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance
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