He felt impossibly large, frighteningly potent as he pushed forward. Yet her hips rose automatically to meet him, and she felt that tiny spark stir again, deep inside.
Rafiq’s gaze locked with hers. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak. His eyes had a glazed look, as if he focused inwards. She read iron hard control in the muscles that strained in his neck and shoulders.
And then, with a single, slow, unstoppable movement, he eased down into her till she was pinioned against him.
She risked a deep breath, aware of muscles stretching impossibly to accommodate him, wary of moving. She’d wanted this so badly, wanted Rafiq as she’d never wanted before. And now she wasn’t sure this would work. Then he shifted his weight and pulled her legs higher, easing the tension a fraction, sliding even deeper.
His head dipped to graze a kiss along her neck, and she heard his voice, husky and breathless, murmuring words she couldn’t understand. The thread of inevitable tension tugged through her as he kissed her, making her squirm. Immediately she felt his responsive quiver of anticipation, and reveled in the sensation.
`Please,’ she whispered. `Please untie me now.’
He didn’t seem to have heard her. Instead he rocked gently back, and then forwards again, creating a perfect friction between them.
It shouldn’t have been possible, she told herself, but there was no doubting the way her body responded to his magnificent virility.
She’d been loved to satiation, beyond endurance, and yet she tingled with growing anticipation at every slow, silent thrust of his body.
Her eyes widened as she felt it again, the scorching flame of desire.
His movements grew faster, his breath against her skin labored, and she responded, knowing nothing but her love for this man, her need to give him everything. And that shuddering sense of expectation.
And then he was kissing her, and it was the epitome of every romantic fantasy. There was obvious sexuality in that caress, but there was more. She would swear to it. He’d tapped into her very soul with his loving, and now this was far more than the most erotic experience of her life. It was the culmination of all her hopes and dreams. It was the caress of a lover, a soul-mate.
Her hands slid through his glorious hair, gripping the back of his skull so she could give back kiss for breathtaking kiss. His own hands were roving, sliding heavy and possessive over her, before clamping again on her hips as he increased the tempo of their movements. And then she held him in her arms, hands splayed over the febrile heat of his damp skin, feeling the bunching muscles as he pushed them both towards the inevitable fulfillment that awaited.
The moment hovered, just beyond reach, and then, with an abruptness that astounded her, she was caught in a joint conflagration that spiraled far beyond anything that had gone before.
It was only with the hoarse echo of her own name in her ears, with the sudden burden of Rafiq’s full weight on her body as he slumped onto her, that she realized how tightly her fingers dug into the spare flesh of his back.
He’d untied her hands, so she could caress him.
She squeezed her eyes tight shut against the absurd tears that flooded her eyes. She had no idea why she was crying. It was ridiculous, appalling. And utterly unstoppable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
`Shhh, habibti. Don’t cry.’ His voice was thick and he wasn’t sure she’d heard. He rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around her, then pulled her on top of him as he lay flat on his back. She sprawled tonelessly above him, her shoulder-length hair splayed across his chest, her legs, smooth and supple, tangled with his. Her hot tears spilled onto his skin and he reached up to stroke her back.
His hand slid down the exquisite curve from her shoulder to her narrow waist, and then traced the flare of her hip. It was bewitching, the feel of her fine-grained skin beneath his palm. He couldn’t believe how a single touch, an attempt to comfort her, could arouse him again-and so soon.
Yet so it was.
Even after that long, passionate sojourn, learning the secrets of her body, reveling in the trust she gave him so freely, it wasn’t enough.
The simple graze of flesh against flesh excited him now as if he’d never had the chance to touch her before.
It’s all right,’ he murmured against her hair. `There’s nothing to cry about.’
She nuzzled his chest and he felt a sharp pang arrow into him. A pang of pure pleasure, he realized with shock. Ì know,’ she mumbled. Ìt doesn’t make any sense.’
He heard another stifled sob and drew her tight against him, whispering soothing words in his own language, rubbing her shoulder with one hand while his other clamped her close.