Chapter 19 #2
The movement of his rough hands was sudden, pulling his fingers from her and moving down to grip Aicha beneath her knees, pushing them upwards until they rested over his shoulders.
Rachid’s approach was hurried, but gentle, evidently as impatient as Aicha, before his tongue darted out to taste her.
His movements and grip were carnal, bruising in a way that had Aicha desperate for a second more.
When he tasted her folds, she realised that he did not do so with delicacy, but as if he were a man starved.
His tongue licked at her wetness as if gulping water after a drought, teeth nipping onto her bud with the perfect amount of pressure to have her writhing.
A soft groan began at the base of her throat, and she felt an unbearable, almost maddening desire for him pool at her core as his tongue circled her entrance.
She dug her fingers into his brown hair, pushing his head further between her thighs.
“Perfect, habiba. You taste perfect.”
His voice was muffled, the words muttered against her folds as he drove his tongue upwards to gently apply pressure in that particular place.
His ministrations were agonisingly slow and meticulous as he savoured her.
Though Aicha held a firm grip on his head, he didn’t relent and go faster.
His finger returned soon enough, entering her only briefly before he extracted them again.
When Aicha looked down in confusion, her eyes found Rachid’s dark ones.
He looked up at her as she watched his tongue work her, raising his hand towards her, pushing his wet finger between her lips.
There was a heated demand in his gaze that turned almost feral as she began sucking on his finger.
The taste of herself settled on her tongue as she pulled at his hand, pushing his finger deeper into her mouth until reaching his knuckles.
His groan was smothered against her, and abruptly he pulled his finger out, using the moistness from her tongue to place it back in her.
Her back jolted and arched suddenly as he curled his finger inside her, using her surprise to latch his lips over her bud.
When he sucked, he pushed his tongue on her with a pressure that forced a scream from her.
Her nerves felt sensitive, frazzled, every last one on high alert as his tongue worked her.
She knew he was enjoying this, and felt him hum against her as he savoured the taste, his sounds vibrating against her body as she began to feel an incessant tug within the pit of her stomach, as if something might soon snap and release every tense muscle in her body.
“Rachid… I need—” But she did not know what she needed. More? Until when? For how long? Her body tightened as if on the precipice of bursting.
Her pleas seemed to spur Rachid on, and he placed a second finger inside her, curling it to rub against her most sensitive spot.
He stopped pushing back as she tightened her thighs around his head, her walls beginning to tighten around his fingers.
His stubble dampened from her wetness, something she hoped he would smile at later.
She felt herself tumble over an edge, and the feeling bloomed in her stomach and rapidly spread like wildfire.
She was unable to stifle her scream as that blazing, euphoric snapping unravelled her.
Rachid kept his tongue and fingers going as she rode out the ecstasy, as the coil in her stomach released.
It dissipated slowly until her chest felt light and a tingling sensation buzzed beneath her skin.
Quickly, he extricated himself from between her thighs, slowly easing his fingers out of her so as not to cause any pain.
As he moved back up to her, coming to settle beside her, Aicha’s head jerked up, the clarity in her mind materialising momentarily as she thought of the one thing she had been told of by Naima that she should have prepared for.
“I’m sorry, did I bleed all over your fingers?”
Her response was a low warm chuckle, followed by a gentle kiss. “It was nothing.”
“But—”
He silenced her with another kiss, this one filled with the same desire as when he had devoured her mere moments ago. He rose to his knees to remove his own tunic, revealing the toned stomach and chest hair that had so often left her stomach in knots and her gaze brimming with hunger.
“You have one more in you, habiba, I know it.” His damp stubble and soft lips brushed against her smooth neck as he positioned himself between her thighs.
Though her mind rested in a blissful haze, that same unwelcome slither of nervousness edged into the corners of her mind.
But when Rachid kissed her forehead softly, pressing his own against hers, Aicha found herself unable to form any words.
The burst of affection that consumed her in that moment had her wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“This life and the next,” he whispered softly, brokenly. As if it would be the last time he’d get to say it.
“This life and the next,” Aicha repeated, blinking away the tears that collected beneath her eyelids.
When he positioned his length against her entrance, and slowly began to push in, Aicha’s chest tightened. She sucked in a breath as pain exploded through her pelvis and she released a whimper.
“I know,” he comforted softly, shoving his face into her hair to take in the scent of her. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He moved in slowly every few moments, the inches minimal as she felt her walls stretching.
It was so much worse than anyone had ever described.
Yet Rachid was gentle, patient with her.
Each time he moved, he waited for her to adjust. He filled her in a way she couldn’t understand, in a way she did not know that you could be filled.
But somehow it felt right. A groan escaped Rachid as he gritted his teeth, and he kept his head buried in her neck.
“I’m sorry…” he muttered, and she felt the shudder that ascended his back as he adjusted his position until he filled her completely. “I’m going to move now, habiba.”
“Please.” Aicha begged as the feeling of intrusion slowly began to fade, and each time he slid back into her the pain ebbed away. A broken gasp escaped her lips, the friction slowly morphing into pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, denting crescent moons into his skin.
When he placed a hand beneath her, pulling her up from the small of her back, his movement became faster and his angle shifted.
Brushing against that new and familiar soft, sensitive spot that elicited a visceral pleasure she felt she would never tire of.
Aicha let out a scream that bordered on relief.
Feeling the fullness of him came with a sense of euphoria.
“Heavens, you are glorious.” His words were strained, muttered against her temple. Yet Aicha knew it was Rachid’s attempt at maintaining control.
Yanking at his hair, she drew his lips back to her own as he began to move. He drew out, only to push back in with a force that had Aicha’s back rubbing roughly against the bedroll.
“More,” she breathed, and Rachid eagerly obliged.
He set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs, her nails digging into the back of his neck and scalp. Eventually, her legs tightened around his waist, desperate for more friction, and Rachid instinctively grabbed onto her hips and lifted her up as she wrapped them around him.
She straddled his lap, the new angle simultaneously painful and overwhelmingly pleasant as he rested on his knees and leveraged her hips to slide up into her.
The sound of skin sliding against skin was almost too much for her to listen to, too wild, too hot, but she found she no longer cared.
Bolts of lightning bloomed from her pelvis, singeing every frayed nerve in her.
Aicha found herself quickly abandoning all pretence of restraint as her screams climbed.
“Rachid,” she whimpered, feeling desperate, but this time she knew exactly why.
“Hold on, habiba,” he soothed, the ridges of his length rubbing inside her until she felt her eyes rolling backwards. “You’re doing so well.”
“Please,” she begged, abandoning the effort to be sweet as he continued to thrust into her.
She knew he would give in to her begging, unwilling to deny her anything when she became more demanding.
He held her tightly and reached down into her folds, rubbing her bundle of nerves in rough and hard circles, driving her wild.
Her skin was slick with sweat and hair stuck to her face—she should have felt undesirable, yet she had never felt more hungered for by Rachid.
Aicha’s nails clamped down on Rachid’s shoulders, which only seemed to spur him on.
Her scream was almost strangled as the walls around his length contracted, and her head fell forward against the curve of his shoulder as her entire body seized and her knees began to shake.
That blooming heat erupted from her abdomen, spiralling up into her chest and flowing through her veins right to her fingers.
Stars exploded from beneath her eyelids, momentarily stealing her vision, and any lingering thought disappeared.
She was a blur of sensation, her body alight and buzzing. Aicha’s body shook more severely than before as he continued to slide into her, as if he wanted to draw out her peak as much as he could, until her nerves were so frayed and sensitive that she couldn’t see straight.
“Aagh,” he gritted out, his own climax swiftly following hers as he spilled himself inside of her.
He gripped her tightly as they fell back onto the bedroll, and despite his own disorientation, Rachid was careful not to hurt her arm as he pulled her close, his breathing heavy as his lips grazed her temple.
Her limbs trembled, and as she shivered Rachid pulled her closer, enveloping her with his warmth.
She felt safe, treasured in a way that only he could make her feel.
A sudden burst of emotion forced its way to the top of her throat, lodging there like a rock as she buried her head into the crook of Rachid’s shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispered, the first time she had ever shared those words.
Rachid’s nose softly rubbed against her temple, his eyes closing momentarily as if savouring what she had just said.
“And I love you.”
It was as if they had been balancing on a ledge all their lives until then, and the words had sent them tumbling over in a tangle of limbs with no knowledge of what would greet them at the end. It had once terrified her, but now, Aicha only wished it had come sooner.