Chapter 22
After I get out of the car, he scoops me up in his arms, ignoring the fact that we aren’t alone. Without saying another word, he takes me up the stairs of the palace.
In the bedroom, he doesn’t turn on the lights, as if he doesn’t want to waste time on anything other than having his hands on me, but the moonlit night allows me to see the outline of his body and his face.
In a way I can’t explain, the dusk makes it more intimate. It makes it more romantic than just sex, an unrestrained hunger.
It’s as if in the darkness we shed our armor.
We are not a Sheikh and his assistant but a man and a woman driven by desire.
He sets me down on the floor on my feet, and we stand still for a while, staring at each other. Even without the benefit of the light, I can see the sparkle in his eyes.
“You told me I could have you however I wanted, Madeline. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to offer yourself like that to a starving man like me?”
A shiver runs through me. “Still? I thought after everything we’ve done, the novelty of the passion would have diminished.”
“It was you who imposed such a short deadline on us. I want so much more.”
His words piss me off.
“Yes, of course you do. I broke your rules, didn’t I? I would have to stay with you for a month for you to be fully satiated.” I walk to the balcony, trying to escape from myself. From what I’m feeling.
It was supposed to be just sex. Why should I care that he tried to label me as just another woman or label me at all, as he’s done with so many others before me?
I don’t need to turn around to feel him approaching. Kamal’s body heat always surrounds me.
“Do you want to fight, Madeline?”
I turn to face him, now able to see his full expression. He doesn’t look angry, just relentless. As if my not surrendering so easily excites him.
The way he looks at me makes my heart beat so hard it’s almost painful. Kamal manages to set my entire body on fire without even touching me. Memories of us come flooding back uncontrollably.
He takes a step forward, almost close enough to touch me, and I shudder in anticipation. He tilts his face to mine, provocative. As if he knows I can’t control my own body when he’s so close.
“Answer me. Do you want to fight, or do you want me to pleasure you?”
I swallow hard, but I refuse to give in. “I thought it was a two-way street. Was I mistaken to think you enjoyed it as much as I did, my Sheikh?”
He doesn’t reply. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me against his muscular body, and without giving me time to think, he kisses me.
It’s not a simple touching of lips; it’s as if he wants to mark me.
Kamal is fire; his heat is consuming, making me burn all over.
I surrender to the kiss, giving him my mouth so he can devour me. My capitulation apparently drives him wild.
He pulls me closer, squeezing me in his arms, and it’s like being surrounded by a fortress.
Our tongues engage in a sexy battle, and I feel my nipples harden.
“You are peace and turmoil,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s speaking to me or to himself. “When I’m inside your body, I feel like I could die trapped in the wet heat of your pussy. But there’s another side, the insatiable hunger. Why so hungry?”
His powerful words run through me like a drug, clouding my judgment and my senses.
The second kiss is hard, urgent, demanding submission. And the strange thing is: I want it. I want to give him everything.
I stagger against his body, my knees weakening, and he picks me up again.
“I need you inside me,” I beg, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Don’t say things like that, or I won’t let you go when this weekend is over, Madeline.”
He lays me on the bed. In the darkness again, our eyes search for each other.
My entire body is engulfed by desire, yearning for his dominance. “That’s what I want, my Sheikh. You inside me. All of you in me, Kamal.”
He undresses me and himself hurriedly, and I barely register what’s happening until I feel his naked body on top of mine.
His large hand reaches my sex, and I shake under his touch.
Whimpering, I arch my body, and he kisses me eagerly in a hungry search.
The pleasure from the mere contact of our skin almost makes me explode. It feels like electric currents are running through me.
He brushes his length against my sex, and in a last moment of lucidity, I remember the condom.
When I say it out loud, he says something incomprehensible in his own language and gets up from the bed.
It doesn’t take long for him to fit between my thighs again, his hand pulling me by the nape to kiss me.
I stroke his hair, suddenly wanting more than just furious sex. That thought alone changes the atmosphere between us.
His touches become gentler, a delicate touch with his fingertips, as if he wants to map me. “You drive me crazy, Madeline. So beautiful.” His teeth sink into the skin of my shoulder. “So mine.”
The warmth of his breath on my face is another turn-on, and as he moves his mouth and grazes his stubble over my neck, I whimper and squirm.
I feel my body tingling everywhere he touches. It’s like I’m in a sexy cobweb, where thoughts have no room, just my five senses.
His demanding mouth finds my lips again, and one of his hands grabs my breasts. My nipples ache with pleasure from the contact. I moan and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.
Kamal lowers his head and flicks his tongue over the tips of my breasts, alternating between sucking and biting.
My body arches perfectly, like an instrument played by an experienced musician.
He grabs both of my breasts, his thumbs circling the nipples while his mouth consumes me in a ravishing kiss.
The pleasure is intense but also torturous because I long for more.
The pressure of his body on top of mine, the way his thick thighs force their way between mine, makes us two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. I have no choice but to open up to him, give him everything.
His hand moves down my body until it rests on my sex, but still not touching it, making me beg unashamedly. “Please.”
“We don’t need to rush.”
“Next time. Right now, I want you inside me, my Sheikh. Make me yours, Kamal.”
He lifts his hips, and I whimper when I feel his member seeking entrance inside me. The pleasure is so overwhelming that my eyes fill with tears.
I dig my nails into his buttocks, which seems to unchain something in him because he thrusts into me roughly.
It’s almost painful, but it’s also delightful to feel him opening me up. Filling me with his thickness, keeping me submissive to his masculine strength.
Our dance this time is almost desperate, as if knowing our time together is coming to an end intensifies our desire.
He pulls out only enough to thrust back inside me. Deeper each time, both hands on my waist, keeping me in place. Penetrating my body with vigor.
I moan his name incessantly as I feel the tormented waves of orgasm approaching, building up in my belly. I can’t hold out much longer before surrendering to desire, and with a final cry, I climax, squeezing him inside me.
Kamal roars, without pausing the rhythm of his thick and long cock, murmuring words I don’t understand, kissing and biting me.
In a final thrust, he pushes in deeply and then groans—a powerful sound, a confirmation of possession—until he collapses on top of me.
I stroke his back, my legs locked around him as I think I was foolish to believe it would take a month for me to fall in love.
I don’t know if I can stay indifferent to him for even another day.
I don’t know if I’m immune at this very moment.