Paige gasped, her body jerking, hard shudders racing through her as she felt Tariq press all the way in behind her. She clenched around the dual intrusions, shuddering with pleasure, with agony and ecstasy as they began to move.
She hadn’t known that pain could be addictive when mixed with the ecstatic waves of erotic response as they surged through her. She hadn’t known that she could completely lose her senses as Tariq lay over her, his broad chest at her shoulders as the two men began to move inside her.
“Abram!” Weak, breathless, she called out his name as she felt her last hold on reality begin to slip away. “Oh God, hold me. Please hold me.”
She was going to fly apart at the seams, she could feel it. She was going to lose herself and her mind right along with her senses.
“I have you, love.” His voice was a dark, primal growl. “Tariq and I have you.”
They were moving, thrusting inside her, filling and stretching her pu**y, her ass, possessing both with every tightening stroke as Paige felt her body vibrating, tensing. Pleasure was building inside her, burning, the sensual flames rising higher until she felt the conflagration detonate inside her.
Violent, fiery, her orgasm began tearing through her senses, drawing a shattered, broken cry from her throat.
Her pu**y locked down, milking Abram’s c**k as the muscles surrounding Tariq’s began to flex and tighten in response.
As her release shuddered through her body she felt sensations she could never have expected to feel with such depth.
Beneath her, Abram tensed, his h*ps arcing, pushing inside her as his c**k seemed to swell thicker and harder. The heavy flesh jerked, throbbed hard and deep and Tariq’s mimicked a second later. As her orgasm reached its fiery height both men gave a hard, muted groan and the feel of their release spurting inside her filled her senses.
She was surrounded by them. She was filled with them, inside and out. Sheltered, held, heated, and consumed. She was exactly where she hd longed to be. Completing Abram.
15
Tariq watched the hands of the old-fashioned clock at the side of the bed as they ticked forward. He wondered if he should stay or if he should return to his own bed.
Normally, he would have already made his way to the other room, but normally the circumstances were entirely different.
There were none of Azir’s bodyguards standing in the hall to make note of his departure time, nor were they at the castle or in the Mustafa province where Azir or his terrorist cohorts could surprise them and drag Tariq off for a death sentence.
For the crime of sexual indecency. Sexual indecency.
Turning his head he stared at the couple he shared the bed with and wondered if Abram had accepted the fact that he was in love with Paige yet. That he had been in love with her for a while.
Tariq had known, and he suspected that Khalid knew as well. That was probably part of the reason Khalid had been so diligent in keeping them apart.
Khalid would blow a fuse when he came out of the hospital to learn it was too late to keep his brother and sister apart.
He almost laughed at the concept. Poor Khalid. It would not be easy should he ever have to introduce them as a couple.
“Meet my brother and sister who are, by the way, married.”
Ah yes, talk about a conversation starter for any social gathering. That topic would definitely be the one.
“You’re still awake.” Abram’s voice was only barely audible. “You should be sleeping.”
It wasn’t as though either of them had slept much since their escape from Saudi.
“Restless perhaps,” Tariq answered.
Silence met the observation for long moments before Abram said, “That’s unusual, for you.”
And it was. Normally, Abram was the restless one. He was known to pace, to stare up at the ceiling, or find ways to simply busy himself when he needed to work out a problem. Restless wasn’t something Tariq did well. And it wasn’t something he enjoyed.
“It sounds to me as though both of you are restless,” Paige observed, her voice drowsy as she shifted more comfortably into her position, draped over Abram’s chest.
Tariq was almost jealous a natural, comfortable appearance of the two. They may strike sparks outside the bed in a totally different manner, but there had always been a connection between them.
Abram’s hand stroked down her back and up, almost unconsciously, Tariq thought. A need for connection. A need to touch the woman he was silently claiming.