She fought to draw in oxygen. She fought to simply stand upright as his head tilted, his lips moving along her jawline to the shell of her ear.
"So sweet," he whispered, as her lashes drifted closed and she became immersed in the sensual, sexual world he was building around her. "I could take you just like this, Marty. So slow and easy, like a gentle summer rain."
His fingers were at her shoulders, touching the bare flesh beneath her robe, drawing the material over her shoulders as she felt her br**sts throb with the need for touch now. His calloused fingertips sent a blaze of friction over her skin and had her suddenly pressing closer, needing more, needing his touch like the land needed the sun.
"I've dreamed of you," she said. "Of you taking me, Khalid. Fucking me slow and easy, fast and hard." Her breath caught as his body jerked, as though he had been struck, while lust became a brilliant flame in his eyes and urged her on. "I want to watch while you take me. See your c**k press inside me while the pleasure burns me alive. I fantasize about it. I masturbate to it."
Her nails bit deeper into the flesh of his wrist as that image tore through her mind.
It was an image she gave him, an image she shared with him as his dark gaze locked with her own.
His hand slid to her breast as his breathing became harder, heavier. He cupped the rounded curve and dragged a shattered cry from her lips as sensation seemed to sear every nerve ending in her body. The stroke of his thumb over her nipple sent a near painful surge of bliss tearing to her womb, clenching it with a hard, tight spasm that stole her breath.
Jerking her head back, her gaze went to where his fingers cupped her flesh. A strong, dark hand, fingers outspread, her pale flesh cupped within it as he lifted the hardened tip of her nipple to his mouth.
"Oh God!" The sharp cry tore unbidden from her throat.
His lips wrapped around the pale pink areola, drew it inside his mouth, surrounded it with fire. His cheeks hollowed as he began to draw on her, his black eyes stared back at her, flickers of light trapped in a midnight sky, as Marty felt her pu**y begin to burn, her cl*t to swell tight and hard, a near rapturous pleasure surging through her entire system. She felt the wet heat spill along the na**d folds of flesh, surrounding her clit, sensitizing it further.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She could only watch as he destroyed her senses with his suckling mouth and wicked tongue.
When his head lifted, she flinched. The absence of sensation sent a violent, silent protest racing through her body, causing her to arch closer, to plead for more.
"So pretty." His fingertip touched her nipple before his gaze lifted back to her. "So innocent. Tell me, precious, would you flush with the same dazed pleasure if I sucked your cl*t instead?"
Her cl*t pulsed violently, the ache centered in the swollen nub, radiating through her body as it demanded more. She wanted to push him further, wanted to see him slip past the limit of his control but couldn't find the breath to speak, to tease.
"Should I suck that pretty cl*t now and find out?" The suggestion had her lips parting, the breath rushing from her lungs as another spasm of pure pleasure tightened her womb.
She wanted to scream yes. She wanted to beg for it. She wanted to watch his face as he touched her there, suckling her as he had her nipple, laving it with his tongue.
Her pu**y convulsed, vibrating with a surge of such intense pleasure that she cried out from the sharp contractions.
Khalid blinked. Staring into her dazed expression he felt a punch of pure lust as the small orgasm rocketed through her from nothing more than his suggestion that he suck her clit.
Sweet heaven, what had he begun here? The innocence, the pure shocked delirium that filled her face at once humbled and terrified him.
He let his hand slide from her breast, down her stomach to the bare, wet mound of her pu**y as she arched closer to him. He was a dead man if she was still innocent. He would expire there on the floor from both shock and regret.
She was twenty-seven years old. Surely to God she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. She couldn't be.
His fingers slid through slick feminine juices. The heat nearly scalded his fingers, the plump, tightly swollen nub of her cl*t drawing his attention as his fingertip glanced over it.
He needed to be inside her. His c**k was pounding, demanding action. The need to f**k her was destroying him.
"Marty, we're home."
Khalid's gaze jerked from her face to the doorway as her father's voice sliced through the pleasure-dazed atmosphere of the room.
Hell, Mathews would f**king kill him. Jennings would drive a stake into his heart with a smile.
Before he could think, Marty jerked from him, her hands shaking. Her face flushed and filled with dazed confusion as she stared back at him and attempted to right the thin robe she wore.
"Marty?" Joe Mathews and Zach Jennings stepped into the room, and came to a hard, surprised stop.
There was no missing what they all knew had been going on. There was no mistaking the shock on Marty's face or the reddened rasp from the stubble of Khalid's beard against her neck.
Mathews took it all in, as did the other man. Eyes narrowed, they stared at Marty, then at Khalid.