sensitized nipples, the feel of his lips on hers, his hands stroking over her body, cupping her breasts, plucking at her nipples.
The silken comforter of the bed met her back before she realized he’d moved her. It stroked against her flesh, another caress to burn through her senses as she fought to touch him.
His lips moved to her neck, nipping kisses drawing her muscles tight as her neck arched and whimpering moans left her lips.
Nothing mattered now but touch-sensual, seductive, heated. Taste. The taste of his flesh as she lifted her head, her lips moving to his shoulders, her tongue stroking, sampling the salty male taste of him.
There was more of him that she wanted to taste, more of him that she needed to taste.
His lips moved down her neck, over her shoulder, and to her breasts. His hands cupped the swollen mounds, his thumbs stroking over the nipples a second before his lips covered one tight peak.
Marty froze. The pleasure was a rush of adrenaline and weakening sensuality. It was a cacophony of such incredible sensations that she became lost in the waves of them.
His teeth raked against the tip; his tongue stroked it. His lips closed on the areola, sucking it with deep, measured pulls of his mouth.
“Khalid.” She was surprised at the sound of her own voice. There was a plea in it, a desperation she couldn’t hide.
Her pussy was on fire from the need. Her clit was so swollen, aching with such intensity, that she swore she could feel the swirl of air around it.
Anticipation tore through her. His hand stroked her, from her breast to her hip to her thigh. A whimpering moan left her lips at the building need for his touch where she had grown so wet.
His lips, teeth, and tongue worked at her breast as his fingers moved to her inner thigh. A cry tore from her lips, her eyes opening wide as she struggled to find a sense of balance in a world suddenly tilting on its axis.
He didn’t tease. He parted the curl-shrouded folds of her pussy, and a second later two fingers began pressing inside her, stretching her, burning her.
“Khalid!” She cried his name as her hips arched, her thighs spreading farther apart as the initial penetration sent a shock through hidden nerve endings, exposing them, sensitizing them further.
Her hips writhed against the impalement. Thrusting, she fought for more, a deeper, harder caress that he gave instantly.
His fingers worked inside her, thrusting slow, then hard; easy, then fiercely. It was never the sensation she expected, never the caress she thought would come. His fingers scissored inside her, stretching her further as a ragged cry tore from her lips.
“God yes, Marty.” His groan wrapped around her, the desperation in it tearing through her.
He wanted her. He was hungry for her. In her life she had never known such desire from a man until Khalid.
The knowledge of that hunger, the pleasure tearing through her, the feel of his sweat-dampened body, her own perspiration sliding between them, combined in such a powerful force that her orgasm tore through her without warning.
There was no initial tightening of her body. There was no rush of impending force. It was just there. A sudden, explosive wonder filled with light and sound as his fingers continued to work inside her, to stroke her higher, throwing her into a blazing conflagration that seemed never ending.
“Sweet Marty, burn for me.” His voice was an echo of the pleasure in her head. A sensual, mental caress that sent aftershocks of release rippling through her.
In that moment, as the pleasure eased and another hunger built, a wisp of a thought, a desire shocked her senses. It could have been hotter. There was a component missing, something she knew she could have, something she was terrified to reach out for.
Fighting back that thought, she reached for the man destroying her senses and her sense of herself. As he rose to his knees in front of her, spreading her thighs farther, Marty sat up, one hand gripping his hip, the other curling around the thick, dark protrusion of his cock.
Khalid froze in front of her.
He had never known such pleasure. He had never known a woman who could give pleasure as she did with the simple act of coming around his fingers.
Now her slender, fragile fingers gripped his dick with silken strength.
“What now, precious?” He fought the urge to dominate now, to let loose the sexual animal that existed inside him.
It was hard, though, incredibly hard. Her hand stroked the length of his cock, her thumb whispering over the swollen crest to gather the droplet of precum that moistened it.
“You always manage to destroy my control.”
He heard the emotion in her voice. That edge of fear there clenched his heart.
“What do you do to mine?” His fingers flexed with the need to dominate her now. “You do not know the edge you push me to, love.”
Her tongue glanced over her lips, so close to the tip of his cock, his flesh so close to such extreme pleasure.
“What would you do if I asked you to lose that control?”
Khalid stilled at her question. There was something in her expression now, in the heat of her eyes that sent anticipation tightening his gut.
“Is that what you want, precious?” He touched her face, his fingertips relishing the feel of her satiny flesh. “No control? No limits?”
“What would you do?”
“I believe you know what I would do. I would give you pleasures that even your imagination could not perceive. I would ensure it.”
He would give her not just himself, but Shayne as well. Whenever she wanted it, in ways she most likely couldn’t imagine. Khalid knew, even if she didn’t suspect, that his sexuality, his sensual hungers went far deeper than she had most likely considered, even knowing how sexual he could become.
“Right now,” she whispered, that edge of anticipation and desperation still ever present in her voice. “Right now, Khalid, what would you do with no control?”
A part of him sensed what she wanted. She was a strong woman, a woman who had made her own rules long ago and had lived with them, no matter the cost to her heart. But now, in this one moment, only seconds after her release, she was wondering what that control had cost her.
His hand slid into her hair.
“You want this?” he asked, hardening his voice, forcing himself to hold back. “All that I am at this moment, sweet flower? Is that what you want?”
She licked her lips again. He expected to see indecision in her eyes, a flash of regret or denial. Instead he saw an excitement, a flash of hunger and lust that he was certain she was unaware lurked inside her.
“Yes.”
His fingers clenched in her hair, tightening, pulling at the strands with just enough force to send what he knew would be a rush of fiery pleasure pain through her already overloaded senses.
She moaned. Her lashes fluttered closed.
Gripping the base of his cock he pressed it to her parted lips.
“Suck my cock, precious. Slow and easy. I want to feel that sweet little tongue working over the head. It’s my favorite fantasy. Your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”
His teeth snapped the last word off as she did just as he ordered. Her lips parted as she sucked him in, her tongue lashing over the sensitive crown as a low growl tore from his chest.
“Fuck yes.” The words were torn from him.
Lightning flares of exquisite pleasure began to race through his body as he continued to flex his fingers in her hair, pulling delicately.
