Those lectures haunted her as she lay in bed. She stared up at the ceiling in the darkened bedroom, her brother’s many arguments echoing in her head. She remembered the anger that filled his eyes, his knowledge that no matter how much he lectured, still she ached for Abram. She was fascinated with him. She needed him like she had never needed anything else in her life.
And because of her need for Abram, she had caused Khalid to worry more for her safety than he worried for his own. Had Azir, Mustafa and Jafar not suspected she was Abram’s weakness, something he wanted, then neither of them would have been as intent on kidnapping her. And Khalid could have concentrated on his own safety.
Despite Chalah’s protestations that Jafar would have never gone to that extreme, Paige couldn’t help but remember that knife to Abram’s throat, sharp enough, pressing hard enough to actually draw blood. And she couldn’t help but believe Chalah’s brother would actually kill if tested.
And Jafar was definitely being tested with the date of the emissary’s visit coming closer and the paperwork on Abram and Tariq’s defection being filled out and prepped to deliver to the U.S. ambassador to Saudi Arabia. And this was the price Abram and Khalid would pay for their determination to break from the Mustafa legacy.
She could lose her brother as well as the man her body burned for, her heart ached for.
Turning, she stared toward the balcony doors and blinked bck the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.
She missed him. She was so used to sleeping, cushioned between him and Tariq, that the past three nights she hadn’t truly slept at all.
As a weary sigh left her lips her gaze jerked to the bedroom door. It opened slowly, pushing inward a second before Abram stepped into the room. A dark shadow against the moonlit expanse of the window across the room, he moved slowly toward her.
He didn’t close the door. There was no need to. Her heart raced at the sight of Tariq moving in behind him, closing and locking the door with a deliberate, audible click.
Her eyes met the dark glitter of Abram’s as he paused at the side of the bed. She slowly sat up, the high mattress placing her head just above his hips.
She swallowed tightly, fighting to breathe at the sight of the heavy bulge beneath the denim. She had to force her gaze to lift, to stare up at him, rather than beg him to f**k her immediately.
“I need you, Paige.” He’d only said that to her once before. That bleak, cold winter he and Khalid had arrived from Saudi after the death of his second wife and their unborn child.
“I’ve always been here for you. I told you that.” She’d been eighteen and so infatuated with him that it was all she could do not to tremble in his presence.
He’d been drunk, racked by grief and he’d come to her even though he’d known he would face Khalid’s rage if it was ever found out.
Her gaze flicked to Tariq. Abram hadn’t had a third with him then, but he did now.
“No matter what I need?”
Her heart tripped in her chest at the question.
“No matter what you need.”
His fingers moved to the metal button of his jeans as he toed the shoes from his feet, his gaze never leaving hers.
“No matter how I need it?”
Her thighs clenched as her gaze moved to Tariq, feeling his eyes watching her, probing the darkness.
“No matter how you need it,” she whispered.
As she finished that affirmation Abram and Tariq were undressing. There was nothing hurried or rushed about their movements. They removed their clothes with a sense of anticipation, but patience. A patience that had Paige wondering if she would survive it.
She felt the world narrow to the two men, to the hunger she could feel surround her and the need she glimpsed in Abram’s face.
Slowly, she watched as his hand circled the base of his cock, holding it firm and steady as he stepped closer to her, his fingers tangling in her hair.
Staring up at him, she felt the wide crest of his c**k at her lips, the heated, throbbing flesh drawing her tongue to taste the heat and hardness. The salty male taste exploded against her senses, intoxicated her.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispered as his c**k head pressed between her lips. “Suck my dick, baby. Show me, Paige. Show me how much you want me.”
How much she wanted him? She felt as though she had wanted him all her life, needed him all her life.
Her lips parted, a moan falling from them as his c**k slowly sank into her mouth.
It was so erotic. The feel of the strongest and yet the most vulnerable part of him held securely within her mouth as she sucked him inside. Her tongue licked over and around the head as she heard a low, muttered groan rumble in his chest.