He slid his hands beneath her, and his fingers pressed into her bottom as he lifted her to his face. His mouth covered her wet, feminine flesh, and her head fell back. She grabbed the pillows as she lost her bearing, dizzy with pleasure as his lips and tongue devoured her with relish, like a man under the harsh lash of starvation.
With one heel propped against his shoulder and fingers gripping a handful of his hair, Imani gasped and whimpered, leaving her legs open so he could take what he wanted from between her quivering thighs.
She came only moments later and trembled through an earth-shattering orgasm. Wasim cradled her body in his arms and waited until her breathing was back to normal before he resumed his exploration.
He truly did learn every inch of her—back, front, thighs, arms, breasts. Not one square inch remained untouched as they made love. He sank his fingers into her hair and brushed his hands over her curves. Gathering her breasts in his hands and sucking her swollen nipples, he made her desire heat up once again to boiling.
She wanted him so badly the aching spot between her legs grew wetter every time his hair-roughened thigh brushed against her tender flesh. She bit her lips to resist the urge to beg but didn’t know how long that would last if he didn’t take her soon.
As if he heard her silent plea, Wasim shifted. Gripping his erection, he looked at her with darkened eyes, his face intent. He settled over her on one arm and brought the broad head of his erection to kiss the entrance of her body.
As he sank into her, she shifted her hips up and absorbed the slide of his hard length. She almost wept, shuttering her eyes as he took full possession of her body. Groaning, her mouth open, Imani shuddered.
“You’re so tight. So wet.” Wasim let out a helpless groan.
Then his hips were in motion—slowly at first as they got accustomed to each other, but then he increased his speed. The mattress groaned under the weight of his forceful thrusts, and her body arched higher. He whispered sensual words to her in Arabic, telling her how soft her skin was and how good it felt to be inside her.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered.
Her eyes flew open.
He seized her mouth and she became filled in two places.
Her arms went around his neck, gripping him close while he sucked her ear and her neck, never once losing the in-and-out rhythm.
Imani guided the fingers of one hand into his thick hair, and then she was airborne, shuddering through another climax that rocked her with the force of an earthquake. As Wasim’s heated grunts beat against her throat, her pulsing cries bounced off the walls. She had never experienced this with any other man. It was surreal. She moved her hips in a frenzy of motion so she wouldn’t miss a single one of his pleasure-giving thrusts.
In the middle of her orgasm, Imani achieved some clarity. She hated clarity and wished she could go back to not knowing—not knowing that she loved him and all this time she’d been in deep denial. The truth was a terrible burden to carry in a marriage of convenience based solely on a promise and a political pact.
She curled her fingers into tight fists at the back of his head and silently responded to what he’d said.
Yes, I’m yours.
Imani glanced over at Wasim. She thought he’d go back to his apartment, but he lay very still on his back. Within minutes, she heard him breathing evenly.
In the glimmer of the lamp beside the bed, his skin was golden. Her eyes trailed over his tousled hair, the neatly groomed beard on his face that had gently scraped between her breasts and along her inner thighs, the sprinkling of dark hair on his chest, and the sculpted muscles that defined his arms and abdomen.
She rolled away from him and squeezed her eyes shut. She had never had this—this type of passion before. Either she’d gone without sex for so long she’d forgotten how good it could be, or that was literally the best sex she’d ever had. Her nerves still hadn’t calmed down. They clamored for more contact—rough, gentle—any way he chose to touch her.
She turned off the lamp, tugged the sheet over her nakedness, and prayed for sleep. She didn’t want to dwell on what she’d just learned. Loving him was foolish, and she was no fool. She knew better.
Eventually sleep arrived but was abruptly disrupted when Wasim’s hands caressed her body in the middle of the night. He reawakened her desire with gentle kisses on her breasts and sucking her nipples into his mouth and letting his tongue play with the tender peaks. His fingers moving between her legs and stroking her inner thighs made her wet and horny and she arched feverishly into his touch.
Her jagged breathing met his hungry groans and then Wasim pushed her legs apart and joined their bodies with one smooth thrust. Very little foreplay was needed because she was as wet as he was hard.
He pulled her on top of him and with his hands on her waist, he let her ride. Imani tossed back her head, the sounds of her sexual enjoyment coming out as sharp cries that filled the room. It didn’t take long for them to climax, and afterward she collapsed on top of him.
Their heavy breaths bathed each other’s heated skin as they came down off their high. Wasim shifted so that she was cradled against his chest, and he flung an arm over her waist.
As Imani closed her eyes, she marveled at how much making love to Wasim had impacted her already. She didn’t feel like herself. She felt reborn.
Drifting off to sleep, she knew twice in one night was not going to be enough for Wasim, because it was nowhere near enough for her.
18
Imani squinted into the sunlight coming in through the large windows of her bedroom. The heavy drapes that effectively blocked out all the light had been pulled aside by one of the maids.
“Good morning, Your Highness.” She looked older than Imani, perhaps in her forties.
Imani groaned, closed her eyes, and rolled over into the soft, fluffy pillows. Wasim had left her bed at some point last night, but his scent remained. It clung to the sheets, so much so that she almost felt him, as if he hadn’t left the bed.
“His Excellency requests your presence at breakfast this morning,” the maid said.
Imani opened her eyes to respond and was startled to see another maid, a younger one, standing quietly with her hands clasped in front of her. Being a member of the royal family of Zamibia, she was accustomed to having servants around. But she hadn’t been a princess or queen and had only been assigned one morning maid, so seeing two was unusual for her.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
The older maid answered. “Seven-fifteen. His Excellency requests your presence at eight o’clock.”
Well, His Excellency can kiss my ass, Imani thought obstinately. He’d kept her up half the night and now wanted her at an early morning breakfast. How ridiculous.
She pulled the linens over her shoulders and settled deeper against the pillows. “I won’t be able to make breakfast at that time. However, I would like breakfast in my room later, at ten o’clock, please.”
Imani closed her eyes, having every intention of going back to sleep and getting some much needed additional rest. The soreness in her aching limbs was a painful reminder that she’d been abstinent for several years. In a couple more hours, she’d be in better shape to face the day.
However, the odd silence made her open one eye. The two maids stood uncertainly in the room. The younger one looked nervously at the older one, and Imani sighed internally. She may be the queen, but Wasim was the king, and he had given them instructions which she was now contradicting. It wasn’t fair to put them in such a tough position.