Chapter 42
I’ve thought a lot about tonight. In my travels around the world, incredibly, I’ve never been with a virgin.
So since our engagement, I’ve planned to take it easy.
Okay, we had that episode on the yacht. I shouldn’t have let things go that far, but what can I say? Adeela is irresistible to me. Every time our skin touches and she shudders, I’m overcome by a kind of madness.
It’s not just lust. I’ve had tons of sex since my teens. Pure desire is something temporary, lasting only as long as the climax, or at most, one more tryst.
She evokes something much more powerful in me, something I can’t yet name, that makes my body throb with lust but also transforms my senses, messing with my perception of everything around me.
Here, in the middle of the desert, I’m completely captivated by her. Her scent, her moans, the lightness with which her delicate hands caress my hair.
The seductive rubbing of her pussy, protected by the small piece of silk, moving up and down on my cock.
I squeeze the flesh of her delicious ass, perhaps a little harder than I should, helping her move on top of me, letting her play, because I know this won’t last long.
She trembles in my arms, burning, her teeth sinking into my shoulder.
“Look at me, Adeela.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop, but I want you with me all the time.” I lay her down on the large, soft futon and force myself to step back.
“Why are you there?”
“I want to see you. To remember the day I made you my wife.”
I begin to unbutton my tunic, and her eyes alternate between my fingers and face.
I’m not wearing anything underneath except the cirwall, the loose-fitting trousers traditional in my country.
To avoid frightening her, I only remove my tunic, leaving my chest uncovered.
I see her throat move, swallowing hard. Her eyes covet me so openly that my cock becomes heavy between my thighs in response.
Her nipples are hard, begging for my mouth, and unable to hold back any longer, I kneel between her legs.
With one hand on each of her knees, I gently but also firmly spread them apart.
She gasps, her pupils dilated, her full lips parting as her little hands, perhaps unconsciously, grip the blanket beneath her body.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I . . . I’m a little anxious.”
“Do you want this?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life.”
“Then trust me, habibti.” I lean over her, just hovering, without touching her. “Get used to me. What do you want to do?”
Her hand rises, landing on my chest, and catching me by surprise, it goes straight to my nipple, making it hard. Adeela is sexy without knowing it.
Virgin, innocent, and at the same time, libidinous.
Without breaking eye contact, I slide a hand from her knee to her panties. I hold back my urge to tear the garment from her body because I want it to be good for her. I lower myself and brush our lips together. Her legs spread to let me fit between them.
I don’t release my weight, as I continue to persuade her to open her mouth for me, and when she capitulates, letting my tongue in, I can’t resist the invitation.
I deepen the kiss, and her hands come to my back, pulling me closer, molding us together.
While I eat her mouth, plunging my tongue into her warmth, my hand searches for the treasure hidden beneath the silk.
This time, there’s no rehearsal. I slip inside her panties, touching her pubic hair, and I almost come when I feel the soaked folds against my fingers.
Her clit is hard, sensitive, and when I move my thumb over it, her hips rise, causing my middle finger, which was only testing her opening, to slip a little inside.
“Kaled . . .”
She contracts around it and I bite her mouth, as punishment for being so delicious.
I kneel and take off her lingerie.
I’m starving, craving her taste, and I lower myself, trapping her hard ridge between my teeth.
“I can’t . . . oh . . .”
“Shhhh . . . you can. We’re just testing what you like, my beautiful girl.”
Adeela seems to float in her own world, but I want her back with me.
I suck on her clit without restraint now, my finger playfully teasing her, getting her used to it, widening her for me.
Her feet are planted on the bed, and she holds my head where she wants it, crying out in ecstasy. I feel her desire dripping down my chin, and I know orgasm is approaching by the way she contracts.
I raise my other hand and alternate caressing her nipples. She trembles with pleasure, surprising me with the intensity of her orgasm.
I suck on her pussy, not letting a drop escape. It’s as if I need to feed on her to stay alive. I don’t stop until her spasms cease.
I stand up and pull down my pants along with my boxer shorts. She props herself up on her elbows, but when she sees me naked, she lies back down, shyly.
I kneel on the futon again and lift one of her feet, running my mouth along the inside of her leg.
She moans, and I take her hand. After kissing her palm, I bring it to my cock.
I feel her shudder, but she doesn’t pull away or ask me to stop when I make her hold me while I masturbate.
I’m hard as steel, and a drop of precum leaks from the tip.
She feels it, I’m sure, and curiously, she raises her face to look at me. “What is this?”
“I’m so horny. My body is ready for yours.”
“Oh! I thought men came after . . . uh . . . sex.”
I pull together all my self-control to answer her innocent questions, but they’re almost giving me a heart attack from so much tension. “Did you notice how wet you got for me even before I touched you?”
She looks away for a moment. “Yes.”
“The same thing happens to me. I really want to feel you around me, and my body can’t hide it.”
“Neither can mine, but I’m afraid I won’t please you.”
“Believe me: you please me too much. I can barely hold back. I want to slide my cock into your tight little pussy and make you mine.”
Her breathing becomes noisy and a moan escapes, while her hand goes up and down my cock again.
“Like this?” she asks.
I throw my head back, and wanting to enjoy it to the fullest, I let her masturbate me alone.
“I want you, Kaled.”
I don’t give her a chance to change her mind. I’m about to explode, and all we’ve had were pretty innocent preliminaries by my standards.
I grab both her hands in mine and pin them above her head. I need control because I’m out of my mind and if she touches me, I won’t be able to guide her first time calmly.
I lower myself to kiss her, and my cock rubs against her belly, our pubic hair mingling, our tongues in their own dance.
I move my body so that the swollen head of my sex finds her opening, and she writhes beneath me.
I suck on her swollen nipple, my teeth tugging gently as I plunge into her untouched warmth once, twice, like a test.
It almost kills me to feel her dilating to receive me.
I push a little more, now looking into her eyes, opening a passage through the delicate, warm flesh. “I need to go deeper inside you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t hold back much longer.”
“I’m not afraid. Make me yours.”
I kiss her mouth and slide my hand between our bodies, touching her stiff clit. With a thrust, I’m finally completely inside her.
I feel her tension and freeze, but she struggles to release her hands and pulls me to her. Her pussy tightens around me, her hips rising in innocent torture.
I lose the ability to restrain myself. My body sways against hers, deepening the thrust, my mouth sucking and licking every inch of skin I can reach.
I force myself to slow down, controlling the pace of the fucking, because I don’t want to come before her.
“Does it hurt?” I ask as I almost pull out completely and then thrust again.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to stop. I’m going to come.”
I say all the prayers I know, asking for strength. Hearing Adeela talk about her arousal is more than I can handle.
“You’re so hot. I want to stay inside you forever.”
And then, without warning, she explodes.
I make a mental note that my shy wife likes dirty talk.
The sensation of filling her numbs me, the pleasure spreading to every corner of my body.
But when I’m very close to my release, I remember her request not to have children.
Strangely, the memory that should reassure me goes down like acid in my stomach.
I don’t want to stop. I want to fill her with my seed and see her pubic hair and thighs leaking my cum, but I can’t betray her trust.
As if a kind of madness takes over because of the denial of what I desire, I speed up the movements, thrusting deep.
She screams, squeezes me, and I savor it until the last second.
Then I get up and masturbate, coming on her abdomen and breasts. The sight of her body covered in my semen brings me a pleasure that borders on the unbearable.
I lie on top of her and, holding her face, kiss her desperately.
“Mine,” I declare, defiantly.
“Mine,” she replies without hesitation, holding me tight.
She’s silent, lying on top of me, while I caress her back—from her shoulders to her sensual butt—trying to focus so that this is enough.
Hours of pleasure haven’t yet quenched my desire, but I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t understand anything about virgins, but I think that for the first night, having sex three times might already be excessive.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, trying to focus on something more neutral.
She raises her head to look at me. “Why did you give me so much in my mahr?”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“Yes, I love jewelry, but I would have married you just for a symbolic coin.”
Even inexperienced, Adeela seems to know how to say the right things to create a bridge that goes straight to my heart.
“You’re different from all the women I’ve ever known.”
“Because I was born in Rheadur?”
I had considered that, but I know it’s not true. Her personality would have caught my attention even if we were both Westerners.
She’s shy, but courageous when confronted. I saw proof of that when she stood up to me the night I proposed.
Most women in my social circle would have been happy to receive my proposal, focusing exclusively on the status that being a billionaire’s wife would provide, but Adeela, on the contrary, laid out her terms, stating what she accepted and what was off-limits, such as the infidelity clause, for example.
“I don’t believe it has to do with where you were born but with your personality and character. I admire you as a human being, as a wife, and there aren’t many people I tell that to.”
“So I’m another member of your selective group?”
Without planning, I laugh. “Not a chance. You’re too beautiful to be among a bunch of arrogant bastards.”
She falls silent, and I know what she’s thinking.
“That’s right. You should limit yourself to just one bastard. Me.”
From her smile, I know I hit the nail on the head.
“But you didn’t answer why you gave me so much.”
And now? How do I answer that without sounding like a jerk jinxing our still-new marriage?
“You included a divorce clause, one for which I don’t intend to be punished, but there are other reasons that can lead a marriage to end, and if that happens, you’ll never have to go through the ordeal your mother went through.”
She stiffens and seconds later, rolls to the side, moving as far away as she can.
I cover my eyes with my arm.
I’m not diplomatic when it comes to talking, and I have no idea how to explain to her that, regardless of what happens to our relationship, I will always respect her and take care of her wellbeing.
“What was in that envelope you gave me after the ceremony?”
“Didn’t you look?”
“No. I was anxious to get here.”
Her honesty is like a punch in the face.
“The envelope contained the deed to my apartment in Paris. It’s yours, whether we stay married or not.”
Her mouth drops open in shock. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” I say, leaning towards her and completely invading her personal space.
“But understand that when I asked you to marry me, I didn’t intend to get a divorce, even before touching you.
Now that I have you, it doesn’t cross my mind to let you go.
I don’t think that will ever change, my Adeela.
There’s no one else I want by my side, and there never will be. ”
She sits on the bed, letting the blanket she pulled up to cover her nakedness slip down. Her face is determined when her hands land on my shoulders, persuading me to lie on my back.
I wait, already excited for her next move, and when she straddles my thighs, the desire I’ve been holding back returns in full force.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she says, moving over my erection, which begins to harden again.
“About what?” I ask, somewhat lost, connected to her as I’ve never felt with a woman.
“Divorce or separation. Another wife for you or another husband for me.”
That finally wakes me up, and one of my hands grabs her hip while the other pulls her down by the nape of her neck.
“No one between us. No one but us,” I declare, taking her mouth.