The Desert Lord's Baby (Throne of Judar 1)
Page 44His hand convulsed in her hair as his loins exploded. She took his pleasure, lapped it up, climaxing, too, just from causing it, taking it, from rubbing against him to the rhythm of his release.
He snatched her up to his heart, communing in profound mouth-mating, sharing their descent. She reached for him again, knew she’d find him harder, crazed for more. She now knew that he achieved the heights of pleasure only inside her heat and giving, only in her pleasure.
She scampered over him, pushing him to his back, straddling him, looked at him through tears that bound him, turning her eyes to the seas he’d been lost in, never wanting to be found.
She held his erection against her scar, caressed him until he was thrusting against her in torment. She rose to scale his length, trembled so much she failed, cried out, “I want you, Farooq.”
“Carmen, ya ghalyah…yes, want me…” He helped her, raised her, positioned himself at her entrance. “Feast on me, show me how much pleasure I give you…”
She took him in one downward stroke. A whiteout of sensation blinded him as her scorching honey engulfed him, his home inside her, his only home. His senses reignited when he felt himself deep within her.
“Farooq…”
He understood her frenzy, rose with her impaled on him, leaned against the mirror, held her buttocks in his palms.
“Ride me, ya rohi. Take me and take your pleasure of me.”
Her palms braced against the mirror, thighs trembling as she tried to rise his length. She’d managed to slide up only half of him when he engulfed one nipple while twisting the other.
Her palms slid off the mirror and she crashed on him, lodging him against her cervix, and wailed, “Farooq…please…”
Then he told her. “Do you know how perfect you are? Do you feel what you’re doing to me? I never dreamed pleasure like this existed. I never want to stop, stop pleasuring you, giving to you.”
“I can’t…Farooq…can’t…it’s too much…”
Again he understood, put his power behind her back as he rolled to ease her onto it in the middle of the mattress, spreading her knees wide-open with his bulk as he lunged forward, sliding up her flaming flesh. He undulated his hips, stretching her around his invasion yet again and stilled, throbbing in her depths, rising above her. “Heaven would be nothing to being inside you.” He withdrew as he spoke. Then holding her streaming eyes, he growled, “Take me, Carmen, take all of me.” And he rammed back into her.
She screamed, her inner muscles squeezing his length in a fit of release. He rode the breakers of her orgasm in a fury of rhythm, feeding her frenzy. It went on and on until he felt her heart stampeding beneath his palm, saw her tears thickening, feared he might be doing her damage.
“Come with me…”
Her sob as her seizure continued around him broke his dam. He let go, buried himself to her womb, wished he could bury all of himself inside her, and surrendered to the most violent orgasm he’d ever known, jetting his essence into her milking depths in gush after exhilarating gush, roaring his love, his worship.
“Ahebbek, aashagek, ya Carmen. Enti koll shai eli.”
Carmen’s consciousness didn’t waver this time. The words exploding from Farooq’s lips had blown it wide-open. Blown her away.
I love you, I worship you. You’re everything to me.
She lay inert beneath his beloved weight, filled with him, with his roar, his words, their enormity mushrooming…
But she’d forgotten how. He shook her and air rushed in, almost bursting her lungs. She heard his choking relief, felt his kisses scorch off her skin, heard herself croak, “You said…said…”
“Ahebbek? Aashagek? Amoot feeki? And I would die for you.”
“Stop, Farooq, stop…it’s too much, too much…”
“You are too much. Everything you are, everything you make me feel. There’s no one like you. You own me. Enti habibati el waheeda, hob hayati. Enti hayati. Ana melkek.”
You’re my only love, the love of my life. You are my life. I am yours. Too much. “But how…when…?”
“How can I not love you and only you? You are not tailor-made for me, you are created for me by God. As for when, from the first moment, and I fall in love with you again in every moment.”
“But I never dreamed…”
“I never dreamed a woman like you existed. But you do, and you’re mine as I’m yours.”
You can’t be mine. If you are, how can I ever give you up?
“Carmen, ma beeki?” The emotions turning his magnificent face incandescent dimmed. “You’re not happy that I…?”
She’d never let anything hurt him.
She surged into him, buried him under a storm of kisses and tears. “I’m not happy, somow’wak. Happiness is an emotion mere mortals induce, but you…you devastate me, transfigure me, overwhelm me. No. None of that does you justice. I’ll have to invent new words to describe you, your effect, what you make me feel.”
He surged up, his face a display of all she’d attributed to him. “And you dare wonder how I love you? It took all I had, trying not to love you. All my struggles made me love you more, ya maboodati.”
She collapsed over him, weeping again. He now thought them tears of jubilation. As they were. Jubilation with an expiration date. “Oh, darling…what I feel for you…that you feel the same way…then you call me your soul and your life, and now your goddess…you’re messing with my life expectancy…”
“I’d give you mine. I’d give you all of it, ya habibati.”
She crashed her lips to his, silencing him. Every word, every expression on his adored face was impaling the spears into her deeper. She panted for mercy. “Habibi, er-ruhmuh…”
He crushed her to him, kissed her back as ferociously, inundating her with his euphoria until emotional passion caught fire and they were fighting for a faster descent into delirium.
It was dawn when the impetus of their hunger was satisfied. She lay cocooned in his strength, his cherishing arms. His love. It was still, would always remain too huge to encompass, that she inspired the same emotions, the same devotions in him.