Chapter Nine #3
He removed the now-wet izaar from his waist and returned to her, the silken heat of her skin warming and addictive.
Nimble fingers threaded into his hair, nails scraping deliciously against his scalp, sending a shiver he couldn’t hide down over his body.
He gently eased back between her legs, and lined himself up with her entrance.
Taking himself in hand, he slowly guided himself into her and instantly knew that he was irrevocably changed. Held, gripped, encased by her, inch by inch he sank further away from himself and into her.
Hana shuddered beneath him and he stopped as she adjusted to the size of him, her internal muscles pressed around his length. And then she tentatively moved her hips, and he held back a moan of such wicked pleasure as he sank even further into her and again and again and she took the whole of him.
‘Hana,’ he exhaled, unsure whether he should tell her to stop, or to keep going. Whether she knew it or not, she was the one in control, the one with all the power here. He was helpless to resist.
Once again she tipped her hips and he couldn’t hold back.
The growl that left his throat poured out of him.
She pulled him to her and consumed it with a kiss, a kiss that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop now.
He thrust into her with his tongue and his cock, and he tasted the pleasure as she cried out into his mouth.
Glory. That’s what this felt like.
All he had were feelings because conscious thought had fled the moment he entered her.
His hands covered every inch of her skin that he could reach.
Her breasts, her hips, the curve of her backside after she hooked her leg around him to pull him deeper into her.
His lips left hers to trace and taste every inch of her that he could.
Time. He had time, but he didn’t. He wanted everything all at once, and was worried that he’d be left with nothing.
‘Hana.’
Hana, Hana, Hana.
She’d said she wanted to feel him, but all he had was her, in his mind, under his mouth, around his length.
And when her breaths became shorter, her gasps harsher, her cries louder, he wanted more.
He wanted to thrust her beyond the edge of her pleasure, and by God’s mercy, he wanted to fly with her.
Thrusting deeper, harder, encouraged by her pleas, by the begging words that filled the air that made him want to give her everything.
She was a madness in his blood that wouldn’t quit.
Sweat slicked and pleasure drenched, driven only by the wordless, instinctive communication between their bodies, he rode them both into an orgasm that started and ended in each other.
Malik came back around breath by breath, finding himself propped up on one elbow and thankfully having not crushed Hana with the weight of his body. He scanned her face for any signs of hurt, or upset, his eyes racing over her body, cringing at the red marks from his heavy touch.
He gently shifted so that he was on his back, pulling her to lie on top of him, his hands unable to leave her body for even that short a time.
As his heart struggled to return to normal, he swept circles on her skin, holding her to him in such a way that he was worried he might never want to let go.
Never before had he felt that way. Never before had he experienced anything like that. Yes, he’d had a few lovers, discreet and fleeting. But this? Hana was his wife. He was her first and she was…
‘Was that okay?’ Hana asked in a quiet voice.
Her timid question cut him to the core.
He took her face in his hands, waiting for her to meet his eye as he looked at the concern etched on her features.
‘I should be the one asking you,’ he whispered, cursing himself a thousand times over. ‘Are you okay?’
She blinked up at him, the smile creeping across her lips, lifting the sudden, jagged fear that had punched him low in the gut.
‘That was…amazing,’ she whispered.
Relief, satisfaction, pride rose to replace his concern so swiftly he failed to stop the smile that matched the one worn by Hana.
‘Yes, it was,’ he agreed and she happily settled her back onto his chest, close enough for him to press a kiss to the top of her head.
‘It is always like that?’ she asked after a moment.
And he forced himself to keep up the pattern of gently sweeping circles he drew on her shoulder.
‘It can be,’ he said, even though it had never been like that for him before.
She nodded as if she understood. And he wondered how that could be, when he didn’t even understand it himself.
After a while, he felt the rhythm of her breathing change as she slipped from waking into sleep.
He gathered her in his arms and, covering her carefully in a sheet, he carried her all the way to the suites.
He lay her on the bed and just when he would have left, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his forearm and drew him back down beside her.
He told himself he’d only stay until he knew she was asleep. He told himself he only deserved that much. But for the first time in nearly ten years, Malik slept a deep, unbroken, restful sleep that he’d not found anywhere else with anyone else.