“I did nothing but command you...to no avail.”
A guffaw ripped out of him. The fact that she was teasing him now was so unexpected, so delightful.
His hands dug into the buttocks undulating against him. “You call this ‘no avail’?”
In answer, she pressed her body and lips to his. “I call anything that doesn’t end with you inside me that.”
“I spent six years planning all the ways I’d pleasure you when I finally got my hands and lips on you again, ya rohi.”
She pulled him back over her, eyes feverish. “I only want one way. You. Inside me. Now, Mohab.”
His heart boomed with gratitude and pride. She didn’t want just any pleasure, no matter how fierce. She wanted the pleasure of union, with him.
It was humbling that she desired him as much as before and more. But his passion had intensified through the forging of denial and disappointment, frustration and separation, though mostly by total, unconditional love. Why had hers strengthened? He couldn’t tell, could only give thanks.
For one last moment before he joined them, he held her eyes as he loomed over her, and they swallowed him whole.
“Take me.”
Obeying her desperate demand, he thrust into her in one savage plunge, sheathing himself inside her tight heat to the hilt, hurtling home, his only home. Her scream felt as if it tore from her lungs, pure, excruciating pleasure, as his bellow had been. She arched up in a steep bow, seeking his possession, needing his urgency and ferocity, and he gave it to her. He withdrew all the way, then forged back even deeper, harder, the near impossible fit driving him out of his mind, until he’d built to a jackhammering rhythm with his full force behind it.
Too soon, her screams merged as she bucked beneath him...then shattered in convulsions that clamped her around him, wrenching at his length in a fit of release. He rode the breakers of her orgasm, withdrawing and plunging in a fury, feeding her frenzy until her screeches stifled and her heart accelerated beyond the danger zone, her tears pouring thickly.
“Come with me....”
Her sob broke him. He let go, buried himself to her womb, wished he could bury all of himself inside her, and surrendered to the most ferocious orgasm he’d ever known, jetting his essence into her depths in gush after agonizing gush, roaring his love, his worship.
“Ahebbek ya hayati, ya rohi...Jala, aabodek...”
Pleasure stormed through him, held him in a merciless vice for long minutes, then it suddenly unleashed its grip, let him breathe, unlocked his muscles. He collapsed over her, driving deeper into their merging.
When he had control over his body again, he withdrew to look down at her, and his heart swelled at the sight of the goddess she’d become. A soundly slumbering one right now. His lips shook on a smile of satisfaction. So he could still pleasure her into oblivion.
Gratitude swamped him again as he made his pledge to the fates. If he couldn’t have her love, he’d wallow in her desire, fulfill her every need, lavish all his love and trust and honor on her. He’d keep her hungrier for more still, do anything to keep her beside him.
Until he made her love him. For real. And forever.
* * *
Jala jerked out of a place of total darkness and bliss to the sight of Mohab over her, the feel of him inside her.
His weight felt like the gravity holding her universe together. The universe that had spun out of control when he’d told her he’d leave and she wouldn’t be seeing him again.
The eruption of despair had overwhelmed her. She’d pushed him away, thinking she’d been defending herself, saving her sanity. But the idea of losing him again and forever had torn aside inhibitions, rationality, even survival. She’d had to have him again, even if the cost was eternal misery. Nothing had changed, or would ever change. She would always need him beyond self-preservation. And she’d thrown herself into the heaven and hell of his arms again.
The conflagration that had followed, what he’d done to her, proved she’d only forgotten how it had felt to be with him. Or that this ecstasy was new.
It was new. And far more potentially destructive for it.
“Jala, habibati...” Mohab’s voice cascaded like warm midnight waters over her as he turned them around, draping her over him, maintaining their union. “Are you all right?”
No. You exist and I’ll never be all right.
Forcing herself to keep it light, she rubbed her face into his pectorals, response gushing again in the core he occupied as the glistening sprinkle of his chest hair tickled her lips. “You really need to ask?”
He smoothed large, calloused hands over her back. “You were moaning. I thought I was too heavy so I took most of my weight off you, changed positions, but you’re still tense. You’re uncomfortable with me inside you?”
He was too big, too thick, and it seemed as if he hadn’t subsided at all. He did stretch her into an edge of pain that was addictive, overwhelming, and as he’d driven all that power inside her, it had been beyond exhilarating. The idea of all that he was, focused in one act of sheer desperation, as much at her mercy as she was at his, filled her, body and soul. She’d thought her younger self had experienced the height of shattering emotions, and that was why she’d felt so empty and bereft when she’d lost him. Turned out, she’d known nothing.
When her answer was delayed, he started raising her off him. She panicked, squeezed him with all her strength, kept him inside her.
He threw his head back on a bass groan, his mane fanning on the rumpled sheets, his hands digging into her buttocks, thrusting his own buttocks up to grind himself farther inside her.
She collapsed on him, a cry of shocked pleasure opening her lips on his corded neck as he nudged her womb. “Mohab...”
Rising to a sitting position with her straddling his hips, he leaned against the headboard, held her hips in his palms and raised her until the head of his erection emerged from her entrance, then he let her sink over the girth slicked in their pleasure.
“Ride me, ya rohi. Take me and take your pleasure of me.”
Feeling faint with sensation, she braced herself against the worked wood, thighs trembling as she tried to scale his length. She’d managed only half when his mouth engulfed one nipple, his fingers twisting the other.
She crashed down on him, felt him push into her cervix.
“Mohab...please...”
He took her arms from their slump, placed them on his shoulders, then held her hips and moved her up and down, traveling the length of his erection in leisurely journeys to the rhythm of his long, deep suckles of her nipples until the pressure in her core threatened to implode. “Before you, I never dreamed pleasure like that existed. I never want to stop pleasuring you, ya hayat galbi.”