The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights 2)

Her ferocious resistance hadn’t been fueled by anger, but by fear. Fear of succumbing only to find him a mirage again.

But if she could believe the past twenty-four hours, he wasn’t only real, he was forever.

Surely nothing could be so perfect. She couldn’t really have the completeness of Jalal and his love, the transcendent joy of their united family. Could she?

But he pledged she could have anything she dreamed of. He swore that she not only had him, but had always had him.

And here she was, in the middle of their family room, in the villa he’d bought by a phone call the moment she’d said she loved it, watching him and their son playing and talking and laughing as if they always had.

When Jalal anxiously had inquired about her silence, she’d said she was luxuriating in watching him and Adam together. From then on, he’d stopped worrying and let her indulge her every starving sense and unborn hope in the wonder and beauty of her man and her son forging a lifelong bond.

Dahab came back at night and took a sleeping Adam with her to the hotel, where she told her family they’d all stay the night. She’d cooked up this plan when Jalal had announced his proposal and Lujayn’s hard-won acceptance. After going ballistic, especially with the prospect of preparing a royal wedding, Dahab thought the newly engaged couple needed a night together, before wedding preparations drove them crazy and apart for the duration.

Though all Lujayn wanted the moment they reentered the villa was to tear Jalal out of his clothes and lose her mind all over him, he had other plans.

He wasn’t gulping her down like he had last night, not even if she begged. And how she did. Tonight, he was wooing her, sealing their pact of forever with affection and harmony before moving on to abandon and ecstasy. In short, he drove her insane.

For the next hours till midnight, he and Labeeb—who now answered her every word with “my eyes to you”—collaborated in waiting on her, cooking for her, serving her and just all around spoiling her.

She’d endured it all, reliving every sensation of Jalal’s possession. It all blossomed inside her mind and body, a memory replaying the glide of his flesh on and inside hers, the harshness of his desire biting into it, filling her body, his voice filling her ears, his breath filling her lungs, his taste her mouth. She’d sat there trying not to squirm with rising arousal and was immensely relieved when Labeeb finally disappeared.

Jalal, who’d watched her with knowing indulgence, his eyes promising her the satisfaction of her every hunger, now rose, came around to her. He took her to the middle of the floor, drew her into a gentle yet possessive embrace, danced with her to the thrilling beauty of a dreamy Azmaharian piece.

She laid her head on his chest, swaying to the tempo of his steady heart, her own stampeding, her lips and nipples stinging, every nerve discharging....

“Now to abandon and ecstasy.”

His bass voice caressed her ear, had her core contracting, her toes curling. He’d almost driven her over the edge with just a declaration. Knowing how devastatingly he carried out his promises was enough to unleash the full force of her arousal.

She erupted in his arms, dragged him behind her to the bedroom suite. Theirs now.... She closed the double doors, leaned on them.

“I want you to do something for me.”

His mirth evaporated at her husky words, his face settling into the stark lines of passion—fierce and resolute. “Anything. And everything. Always. Just ask.”

“Let me have my way with you. All the way.”

The flare of sensual savagery in his eyes seared through her already-inflamed flesh until she felt like one exposed nerve.

“Then have it. Any and every way you crave.”

He started undressing as he talked. Her first reaction was to cry out for him to let her do it. But she held back, let him perform that mind-melting striptease for her, watching and burning, her muscles buzzing with the effort not to charge him. Soon, she placated herself. Now, she got to revel in the beauty she’d thought she’d live deprived of.

The night Adam had been conceived and last night had been too mindless and short-lived. She hadn’t had the chance to savor his magnificence. And even this description was an understatement. Time had conspired to turn what she’d thought was virile perfection into something that defied description, even belief.

Burnished bronze skin overlay heavy yet lithe muscles, sculpted from power and symmetry. Broad shoulders flowed into defined chest and abdomen, narrow hips and taut buttocks, dominant thighs and muscled legs, every inch chiseled from maleness and stamina. She knew from experience that even his toes were beautiful. He was a work of divine art down to his pores.

Then he stepped out of his briefs.

Letting her get only a glimpse of what she’d soon, please soon, impale herself on, he turned, simmered an inviting look over his shoulder and sauntered like a smug feline to the bed.

In languorous movements, he propped his great body against the headboard, stretched out his long limbs, his erection hard and long, heavy and thick, ready for her to come ride it.

Feeling that nip of familiar intimidation, she tore things in her haste to get rid of her clothes. She didn’t care. Any slower and she would incinerate them right off, anyway.

Then she bolted for him.

She crawled over him, worshipping him from legs to lips. By the time she straddled his hips, he’d given up any pretense at deliberateness and was panting as heavily as she was, his groans as pained as hers, his hands roaming her in a fever, his body matching her own shudders.

He still didn’t hurry her, didn’t drag her over him and thrust inside her to end their suffering, letting her set the pace. But she only wanted to hurtle through this first joining. So she did.

Digging her hands into his shoulders, crashing her lips down on his, drinking deep of his taste, she bore down, taking him all the way to her womb in one downward stroke.

Agony and ecstasy ripped her apart. The unforgettable, almost unbearable expansion his size forged inside her had her thrashing over him, withdrawing to escape the shredding pain, plunging back to gorge on the maddening pleasure. She was molten yet his girth almost didn’t fit. And still it fit to such levels of perfection, the carnality, the reality of feeling him like that again, now when love had been declared, had her weeping. He licked her tears, growling her name, igniting her fire higher, driving her harder, until she burst into the flames of a devastating completion.

Shock waves expanded, collapsed, then again, milking his hard flesh of every pleasure, for her and for him. She shrieked his name as the detonations of each orgasm severed all her nerves, as his seed shot inside her in one scalding surge after another, bathing her intimate flesh, filling her womb, fulfilling her....