Pregnant by the Sheikh (The Billionaires of Blackcastle 3) - Page 22

This made words of incredulity escape her. “Look who’s talking.”

“I’m done talking.” He tugged her hard to him, rumbling, “Now I worship you.”

She would have keeled over him if his shoulders hadn’t stopped her forward pitch. He added to her imbalance as he fulfilled his pledge. She whimpered at each kneading of her buttocks, lurched with every tongue thrust into her navel, shook at each drag of teeth across her breasts. Her moans sharpened as he clamped her nipple, until a cry rushed out at his first hard suckle.

“Numair...please.”

In answer, his thumbs hooked into the top of her panties, peeling them down her shaking legs.

In seconds she was standing in nothing but her sandals, her clothes discarded at her feet. Numair’s eyes roamed her every inch as if he would gobble her up.

Everything spun. This was really happening. Numair was really here, and he had her naked. He would take her. And she would let him.

Let him? She wasn’t begging him to only because she could barely breathe.

She watched him as if from another realm as his hands closed over each leg in turn and his lips melted down her flesh, kissing and fondling from foot to thigh. Her consciousness flickered like a bulb about to short out.

“The feel of you, the taste and scent of you are perfection, magic. Madness. Enti jenan ann jadd.”

She gasped. He’d just spoken in her mother tongue. Said that she was truly madness. She’d always hated it when people attributed this meaning to her name. Which they did a lot, as they deemed most of her actions since she’d turned eighteen to be deranged. But the way he said it, the way he meant it... Like everything else, when it was from him, she loved it.

By the time he’d explored her every inch, she’d become a literal puddle. She could feel her arousal running down her thighs, could scent it, and she knew he saw and smelled it, too, from the wildness she felt emanating from him. Then something scalding rumbled from his depths, and he pressed her back, slid her up against the wall, opened her thighs and draped them over his shoulders.

Before she could register his intention, he nudged the lips of her femininity with his nose, rumbling again as he inhaled her deeply, and those rugged fingers caressed them apart, sliding through her molten need. She keened, lurched with jolts of sensation almost too much to bear. Oral sex had left her repulsed or numb before, but not now. With Numair she ached for it. As he dipped a long, powerful finger inside her, each slow inch made her feel how empty she’d been all her life. How only having him inside her would fill the void.

But she wanted him, and she tried to tell him by tightening her legs around his head, pulling his hair out of its confinement and dragging him up by it. He only opened her fully and burned her to the core in his ragged hunger.

She malfunctioned completely as his tongue and teeth scorched the heart of her femininity, slowly, thoroughly, as he’d promised. The sight of his magnificent head between her thighs, the knowledge of what he was doing to her was almost more incapacitating than the physical maelstrom.

Through the delirium, she watched him cosset her, strum her, drink her, revel in her need and pleasure. He seemed unable to have enough, and yet to know when she had.

“Now let me see how much I pleasure you.”

Just by his demand, by the exact pressure and speed he seemed to know would unravel her, her body heaved in a chain reaction of searing ecstasy. He held her eyes all through it, watching her greedily.

After he’d wrung her of everything her body had to give, she went down like a demolished building all over him. A rough sound of gratification rolled from his gut as he received her collapsing weight effortlessly and stood up.

She flopped in his arms like a rag doll until he whispered in her ear, “Wrap yourself around me, ya jenani.”

His words injected power into her limp muscles, made her clasp her arms around his shoulders, her thighs around his hips. She would give him anything he wanted.

It was indescribable, being draped around all his power, feeling everything he was encased within her limbs. She now knew she’d been empty and anchorless all her life, would remain so if she couldn’t enfold him, hang on to him like this. The thought should have scared the hell out of her, this dependence she was developing unknown to her. It only felt amazing now.

She rested her head against his shoulder as he strode with her clasped tight across her two-room apartment, as if he knew exactly where her bedroom was. Which she wouldn’t put past him, to have already obtained the blueprint of this whole building and its unit models. This was a man who was always in the know, about everything and everyone.

She felt as if she was gliding through a dream, her body echoing with the hum of pleasure he’d just given her. And it was as if she was seeing everything for the first time. Everything with him felt new, painted in wonder, infused with magic. And madness. He’d been so absolutely right about that.

As he crossed into her bedroom, she was roused from her delicious lethargy again. Numair had entered her most private place. And she suddenly wished she’d installed so many more lights, so she could revel in every single detail of his perfect body when he finally let her see it. As it was, there were only her bedside lamps and two lamp stands in the opposite corners. But she suddenly noticed something else.

Her bold decor in gradations of teaks and greens with accents of ebony seemed to echo his coloring.

Raising her gaze to him as he closed the door, as if he was making sure he had her locked away with him from the world, she melted a caress down his chiseled cheek. “See this place? My inner sanctum?”

His smile was scalding. “It’s all you.”

“Actually, it’s all you.” His hands tightened on her back and buttocks, his pupils flaring in surprise. She elaborated. “Every color here is yours. Your skin, your eyes, your hair. It’s as if I’ve picked every one to suit you, as a tribute to your beauty. Seems my preference for the color scheme was some kind of prophecy.”

His eyes went supernova as he bore down on her against the door he’d just closed. “Everything you say, everything you do, everything about you, sends me out of my mind. Your bill is getting heavier. And I will exact payment in full, ya galbi.”

Tags: Olivia Gates The Billionaires of Blackcastle Billionaire Romance
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