CHAPTER SIX
Irene knew that she had gone wrong when she started to speak. She had thought that when she was out of prison that she could simply move forward with her life, be who she truly was with Raheem. Now she knew that that had been her biggest mistake, and she fixed it in the only way she knew how.
When she rose the next morning, she lapsed back into the silence that had been her fortress and her prison for the last few weeks. When Raheem greeted her, she nodded, and when he asked her what was wrong, she only gave him a sad smile. If she were silent, she could give nothing away. It was her brother’s only hope after what she had revealed. It was bad enough that they knew that he was in Khanour. The more they knew about him, the greater the danger to him.
Raheem put up with her silence for most of the day. He was silent as well, except when he went into another room to speak with the men he had on her brother’s trail. When he did this, she tensed up as if every muscle in her body had turned to concrete. There was simply nothing she could do, and she felt that helplessness keenly.
Finally, in the evening, Raheem came to her. She was sitting on the couch, looking out over the beauty of the oasis. When he sat next to her, she didn’t move away. Though Irene knew that she should keep her distance, there was still something about him that drew her like the point of a compass to true north. When Raheem reached out to touch her face gently, she leaned into him.
“That was my man in the city,” he said quietly. “Your brother had disappeared. We can trace his whereabouts to a few months ago. We know that he has likely not left Khanour, unless he is far slyer than you have led me to believe, but my men cannot find him.”
She was torn. On one hand, if they couldn’t find her brother, then they couldn’t arrest him. However, if they couldn’t find him, that meant that it was more than likely that the smugglers had not let him go.
Peter, please… I’m so sorry…
Raheem took a deep breath.
“You must tell us where your brother is. Unless you do, there are criminals that are moving about untracked and willfully breaking the law. These men are robbing my country of the things that are ours by right, and that I will not have.”
She looked down. He was right. There was no answer she could make to it at all. There was no defense she could make for the men she had worked for, and she knew that it was only through the grace of Raheem’s will that she had not been convicted and sent to prison.
“Has it occurred to you that these men are dangerous?” Raheem asked. “They are brutal, and if they would not hesitate to use a girl like you, there is no telling what they will do to a boy like him. All your life, you have been there to look after Peter. What do you think he is doing out there now?”
Her eyes flew up to meet his, her mouth open in an O of pain. He had sought for her weakest point and now he found it. All of Irene’s worst fears about her brother, that he was suffering, injured, or even dead, appeared in her mind, and there was nothing that she could do to send them away, to make them go.
Her eyes filled with tears, but this time, Raheem did not hesitate.
“You love your brother. You love him beyond what your parents have offered to either of you, and you cannot turn away from him. I understand this. But Irene, listen to me. This is not a time when you can protect him with your silence. This is not merely taking the blame for being out on the ice or anything else you might have done as a child.
“Your brother’s life is at stake, and the men who hold his life in their hands, they are cruel and they are inventive. Do you know what they will do to him if he runs afoul of them?”
Irene moaned low in her throat, clapping her hands over her ears. She did know. They had told her. They had told her in painful and excruciating detail what they were going to do to her brother if she did not do exactly what they said.
Ruthlessly, Raheem pulled her hands from her ears. When she looked up at him pleadingly, there was pain in his eyes, but he did not stop.
“It is within your power to take these men down,” he said. “It is within you to help us remove Peter from this situation.”
“Can you grant him amnesty?”
Raheem looked at her as if startled that she had spoken at last. Her voice was low and rusty, as if it was an instrument that had ground to a halt from lack of use. Now it was his turn to pull away, and she wrapped her fingers around his.
“Can you?” she demanded. “Can he be forgiven for what he might have done?”
She could see in Raheem’s eyes the urge to lie to her. He wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear, and the worst part was that it wasn’t even to get what he wanted. He wanted to lie to her simply to comfort her.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I cannot say yes or no to that without getting the whole picture, without seeing what your brother has done. What has he done, Irene?”
And with that, Irene knew that she had to stay silent. She had no idea what her brother had done, none at all. She couldn’t take the chance that the courts would find him guilty. Her time in prison had been blessedly brief, but she could still remember vividly the sight of the camel skin whip, the casual brutality of the guards.
She looked into Raheem’s dark eyes, and even as her heart was crying out, she shook her head. She pulled her hand from his, and she turned away.
He was speaking again, but this time, she forced herself not to hear him. She had to be strong. She had to get through this week. She knew that Raheem was a man of his word. He would let her go, and then she would never see him again.
The very thought of being pulled away from this man tore at her. With dull surprise, she realized that the feelings she had for him, tumultuous and dark, had somehow turned into something real and warm. She had known that he was different from any other man she had met before. What Irene hadn’t known was that she was falling in love with him.
***
Irene had to give Raheem credit. He tried every way he could to convince her to speak with him. He shouted at her, he cajoled her, he tried to explain how much better it would be if she simply spoke. Sometimes, Raheem talked himself hoarse and they lapsed into silence together.
During those silent moments, it was almost the way it had been before his revelation. She could sit with him, leaned against his body and looking out over the oasis. He would always start again, however. He would tell her that Peter needed her help, that she had it in her power to save him, but she refused to believe him. He had told her the truth before. He couldn’t guarantee her brother his safety, and beyond that, there was nothing else for them to say.
Sometimes, it felt as if Raheem wanted to forget the whole thing. He teased her for one word, any word, it didn’t matter. His blandishments made her smile, but she did not allow herself the luxury of even a single word. Her first mistake had revealed her brother’s name to this dangerous man. She couldn’t allow a second mistake.
Despite her silence, he still wanted to be with her. They could sit together, he prepared them delicious meals, and several times, he offered her a towel and they went together to the oasis. In the cool pure water, she swam naked as she had never done before. She was shy at first, but to Raheem, nudity seemed to be his default state, a place that required no embarrassment or pause. He patiently sleeked the sunblock on her body, and then he embraced her in the water, their limbs twining together as they kissed hungrily. Just when she could feel his arousal, and just as her own was growing more powerful, he would pull away. For a while, Irene wondered if it was because he didn’t want to sully himself with someone like her. Then she realized that he found it painful as well. Perhaps he did not love her the way that she foolishly loved him, but this hurt him as well.
Raheem left her alone until an evening two nights later. It had been a strained day, and the house still echoed with his shouts. He had been more forceful than he had ever been, and though she refused to back down, she couldn’t stop herself from trembling like a leaf. Mid-tirade, Raheem had stopped, staring down at her before shaking his head and turning away.
As she watched, still shaking, he strode out of the house and into the forest. It was like the woods of the oasis had swallowed him up. He was gone for more than an hour. She started to wonder if he would come back. After a while, she wondered if he was injured.
It was too easy to see that happening. The oasis was beautiful, but it was isolated. If he had fallen unluckily, he might have broken something. He might be lying helpless and unable to reach the house again. He might even be…
With a soft gasp, she ran toward the door. Irene had no idea what she would do if he were seriously hurt; all she knew was that she could not stand the thought of him lost in the darkness, alone…
Just as she reached the door, however, it opened, and Raheem nearly walked into her. With a soft surprised sound, she started to fall, but he grabbed her, helping her to her feet. Instead of letting her go, however, he only pulled her close.
“Were you frightened for me, little American?” he asked softly. There was no trace of the anger in his voice from before, and she felt a shiver of relief go through her.
She nodded, looking down, and he dropped a gentle kiss on her head.
“I’m sorry to cause you such concern,” he said. “I am… sorry for many things. I am sorry we cannot be who we truly are with each other.”
She tensed, wondering if he were going to grow angry with her again, but instead, he lifted her into his arms.
“Let us see if we can give you something to distract you.”
He hadn’t touched her since their intense conversation about her brother. Now he carried her to the bedroom that they shared and undressed her with the quick gestures of an expert. A part of her wanted to protest this, knowing that the closer they got, the more it would hurt when the week ended. Instead, when he trailed hot kisses down her neck, she could only sigh with pleasure and tilt her head to give him more access.
That night, he brought her to the brink of climax over and over again. He used his hands and his mouth to raise the tides of pleasure higher and higher, stopping at the last moment to make her cry out with need. Then he began again, ignoring her begging sounds and the restless movements of her body.
When he finally brought her to her climax some hours later, she was drenched in sweat and begging for the mercy he refused to give her. Her pleasure exploded in her with the force of a supernova, lighting up every part of her soul, opening her up in ways that she didn’t even fully understand. She was split open, every part of her on fire, and she couldn’t stop herself from shouting his name over and over again.
At some point, Irene lost track of what she was saying or even who she was. There was nothing she could do but float on the powerful sensations that he gave her. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she was cradled against his chest as he murmured soothing words to her. She could feel his hard manhood pressed against her hip, but he did nothing to relieve himself.
“So beautiful,” he crooned. “So very perfect. Beautiful girl, won’t you stay?”
Despite the pleasure still buzzing through her limbs, she knew what her answer had to be. It took every bit of her strength to turn her face away, even as a hard lump appeared in her throat. She closed her eyes, praying that he would not continue. She wasn’t sure that her heart could take it.
She could feel his eyes on her. Finally, he sighed. He lay down behind her, curling an arm around her waist and kissing her sweetly on the shoulder, as if they had slept together every night of their lives.
“Sleep, sweetheart,” he said, his voice throbbing with compassion. “Sleep. This has been too much for you.”
In that moment, she came the closest she ever had to speaking with him. That kindness made her hopeful that he could be just as kind to his brother, that there might be some hope for Peter after all. Then she remembered that the man who slept behind her wasn’t the one who was going to be denying Peter’s fate. It was the one who had stared at her in the airport, his face twisted with shock and loathing as he realized what she had done.
If she wanted her brother safe, this was what she had to remember.
***
The next day dawned bright and clear. When she looked out over the oasis, Irene could see a breathtaking crystalline beauty to it. She sat with the cup of tea that Raheem had made her and wondered if she would ever see this place again after her week was up. The fact that she would not tore at her heart, but it was almost a welcome pain. It was not the pain of never seeing Raheem again, and because of that, it was a kind of relief.
Raheem came up behind her, dropping a kiss on her head.
“Finish your tea and put on some sturdy clothing,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
When she dressed, he led her to the rear of the house, where there was a jeep waiting for them. The tough little vehicle took them across the dunes, into the bright desert. The heat was just beginning to get to her when Raheem stopped at a rocky outcropping. Irene looked at it, puzzled. It looked to be no taller than her waist, and she wondered what Raheem had brought them into the desert for.
He grinned at her confusion, and he came around the jeep to help her get down.
“Trust me when I say that this is much more impressive from the inside,” he promised.
To her surprise, he led her around the stone outcropping to reveal a dark opening sheltered underneath it. Some trick of the wind and rock had created a doorway into the dunes, a place that was somehow clear of sand. Raheem grinned and handed her a miner’s hat, patiently showing her how to buckle it on and turn on the beam. She looked at him apprehensively, but he squeezed her hand.
“Trust me,” he said, and because she did in all matters except one, she allowed him to lead her into the earth.
The ground beyond the dark opening was flat for a short while, but then, to her shock, there were stairs cut into the stone. Her heart beating faster, she followed Raheem down the steps as they wound deep into the ground. The air, so hot and dry above, became something damp and green below, and she wondered how many thousands of years had passed since this place was cut into the rock below the sand.
Finally, they came to level ground again, and after passing through a short tunnel, Raheem and Irene were in an enormous chamber that stretched up as high as a cathedral ceiling. When Irene gasped, looking up, she could see the distant arches carved above her, and she stood in awe of the determination and skill of the crafters who had risked their lives to make such a thing of beauty.
“There are many names for this place, but the one that is most common is the Quiet of the Rock. The story goes that once upon a time, the dangerous spirits and ghosts of the desert would come to this place when they needed to think. No speech was allowed, and more than one demon turned away from a life of evil in this place and resolved to do only good.”
Irene thought that she could understand it. There was something solemn about this place, about the darkness that vaulted so high above them. She couldn’t imagine what it might be like to be noisy or contentious here. Something about this place stripped away all pretensions, all thoughts of conflict. She could feel the peace of it seep into her like water into bedrock, and she grasped Raheem’s hand, trying to convey her thanks through her touch alone.
He smiled at her, and she thought he understood what she meant.
“Come over here. This entire place is amazing, but there was something here I wanted to show you.”
He led her down along the edge of the walls, and some hundred paces from where they started, he showed her a mural. It took her eyes a short amount of time to adjust for the glare of her helmet, but when she saw what he was showing her, she gasped.
The mural, deep underground and in one of the most remote spots in the country, was as breathtakingly vivid and beautiful as it had been when the artist touched his brush to the smooth stone walls. It was a lively piece painted in reds and golds, the scene of a menagerie and gardens in full bloom. She could see the orange-and-black stripes of a tiger, the white feathers of an egret, and the graceful backs and antlers of the deer. Each animal was rendered in vivid, loving detail, surrounded by lush green curls of ferns and trees.
It was a masterpiece, and all around the edge were words in the scrolling calligraphy of Arabic.
“It tells a story,” Raheem said quietly. He took a seat on the cold stone floor, and when Irene took his proffered hand, he guided her to sit down on his lap. It could have been a sexual thing, but she realized that there was nothing sexual about it. He merely wanted to give her a place to sit that was comfortable and close to him, and she warmed to him for it.
“There was once a great lord who kept a menagerie the likes of which the world had never seen,” he read softly. “He was a handsome man, blessed in every way. He was a notorious lover, a fearsome warrior, and a great statesman, but the only thing that could move his heart was his menagerie. His obsession was such that it had to have a fine sample of every animal in the world, and to that end, he sent his men scouring the ends of the earth. They brought back tall giraffes from Cush, enormous cold-blooded lizards from the tropics of distant oceans, deadly cats from the land called Fu Sang. With every animal that was brought to his menagerie, he only grew greedy for more, sending his men far away.
“One day, as he was wandering through his prized possession, he noticed a little roe deer in one of the cages. She was small and delicate, perfect in every way, but in a menagerie of gorgeous peacocks and mighty rhinoceros, there was little special about her. He started to go on his way, but to his shock, she called him back.
“‘Please stop and listen to me,’ she said, ‘for I suffer under a mighty curse. My father is a good sorcerer who has quarreled with an evil one, and in their battle, I was transformed and sent here. Please, if you help me, I will grant you wealth and victory the likes of which you have never seen.’
“The lord looked at her and shrugged. ‘I have wealth and victory already. I need not these things, but I do need a perfect roe deer in my menagerie.’
“At his words, the roe deer shook, but finally she made her last offer. ‘If you help me, I will love you as no man was ever loved.’
“The lord paused, thinking.”
Raheem stopped then, but Irene was so entranced by the story that she had to take a moment to realize that he had. Then she poked him without thinking about it. The story was captivating in a way. She had never heard it before, but someone had loved it so well, they had come all the way down to the Quiet in the Rock to paint it.
Raheem shook his head, a solemn expression on his face.
“My father brought me down to this place when I was only a boy,” he said, “and he showed me this mural. All my life, I have wanted to know how the story ends, what happened to the roe deer and the man she promised to love.”
Startled, Irene followed Raheem’s pointing finger to the mural panel that was slightly beyond where they sat. To her shock, there was an enormous chunk of the rock chipped away. Feeling slightly queasy, she got up to investigate. It wasn’t the work of erosion or an accident, she realized. It was a deliberate act of theft. Someone had wanted to take a portion of that mural back, probably to sell, and they had simply chipped it out of the rock on which it was painted. What was left was damage that was likely decades old, but there was an awful freshness to it, as if the wound would never heal.
She turned back to Raheem, who was watching her carefully.
“That happened in the 1920s,” he said, “when Khanour suffered under the boot of France. We did not have the money and the industry that we would, and France came in to take half of whatever it was we made and more if it could get away with it. It was a dark time for Khanour, made all the darker because the French took more than just our money. They also took our treasures. Sometimes they said it was because it wasn’t truly important, and the items in question could be bought, even if it was only for a pittance. Sometimes, they said it was because we did not know how to handle beautiful things, and they would keep it safe. All we knew was that by the end of France’s colonial rule, our country was culturally beggared. There is only so much that oral tradition can keep alive. This story was one thing that we lost.”
Irene felt sick when she thought of it. Every culture in the world had a legacy, and to see Khanour deprived of the one that Raheem was desperate to preserve was brutal. She felt too drained for tears. She felt as if she had been wrung out of any emotion.
For the rest of the afternoon, she and Raheem explored the church, marveling at the bits of history that had clung on in spite of raiders and thieves. Irene was constantly impressed by how much had survived even after so much was lost. Some pieces had been retouched and protected, while others had survived simply by dint of being made by people with an eye toward history and those that came after them.
Raheem was silent on the way back. As he drove with an assured confidence over the dunes, she couldn’t help but sneak covert glances at him. Even in repose, there was something deadly serious about his gaze. He was a man from a line of warriors. They had protected their country as if it were a sacred trust. Now that she had been in the Quiet of the Rock, she had an idea of what he was trying to protect.
She was lost in her thoughts when they returned to the house. She had a shower and changed into a light dress, needing to be away from the weight of the grit and the sand. He prepared a light meal for them, but when he placed it in front of her, she pushed it away.
“Raheem.”
He looked up, startled.
“Irene?”
“I have something I want to tell you.”
She took a deep breath and told him all of it. She told him how she had been recruited, and how they had threatened her brother. She told him where she had gone, and who she had talked to. Her excellent memory provided him with names, addresses, everything he would need. Irene talked until her voice was hoarse, but then, finally, she revealed everything to him, everything he needed to know.
Halfway through her speech, he had pulled out his phone, texting the information she gave him to his men. From the intent way he looked, she could tell he was absorbing every scrap of knowledge, taking everything she could give him and turning it into an action that would protect his country.
Irene deliberately did not think of her brother.
When she was done, she slumped back into the chair. She felt as if she had been fighting a hard battle for weeks. In a way, she had been.
“Thank you…” he began, but she cut him off.
“Don’t thank me,” she whispered. “Please don’t. Just… just let me be free of it. I cannot think of it tonight.”
He looked troubled at her speech, but he nodded. When she couldn’t eat her dinner, he did not protest, and only took it away.
That night, he left her in the main bedroom while he went to the smaller one. She could hear him talking to his men, strategizing what they wanted to do and how. Irene emptied her mind of all of it. All she knew was that the bed felt too large, too empty. When the voices from the other room had been quiet for a while, she stood and walked across the hall to find the man who was, by law and ancient right, her husband.
“Will you hurt my brother?” she asked, her voice naked and afraid.
He cared too much for her to lie to her.
“I don’t know,” he said.
They were silent. Irene had thought that she would weep, that she would scream, but after all this time, there was only a clean, gray emptiness. It was so silent inside her that she thought she would go mad if it were not filled.
“Make love to me.”
In any other situation, Raheem’s look of surprise would have been funny. He turned to look at her, his eyes wide.
“Irene…”
Despite the concern there, she could see the heat rising in him as well. The night before, he had done nothing but give her pleasure. The memory of the last time that they had truly joined was vivid in his mind, and she could see his passion try to overtake his reason.
“I know what I want,” she breathed. “I need to… be away from myself. This is how I want to do it.”
Raheem licked his lips, his gaze roving up and down her even as she could see him fight himself over what was right for her.
“I don’t know if you are in your right mind…”
“I was in my right mind when I gave you what you wanted to know,” she said, her voice quiet. “Give me what I want now.”
A shudder went through him. She knew that in the war between his passion and his reason, his reason was going to lose. The air between them became heavy with the promise of sex. The space between them was so charged that a single spark would have caused it to ignite.
Irene could feel Raheem’s eyes on her, making her more aware of her body than she ever had been before. She was aware of the weight of her clothes, the way her hair brushed against her bare shoulders, the way her light skirts brushed against her naked legs. Despite being fully clothed, she wasn’t sure that she had ever felt so naked.
“If you don’t want what’s happening here, you should tell me now,” Raheem said, his voice low. There was a hint of menace there, something almost wild. It should have made her want to run, but instead, she was drawn to it. It was how it always seemed to be with Raheem. Everything about him only pulled her in deeper, made her want more.
“I… I do want it,” she said softly.
The dark fire that flared in his eyes woke something hot inside her, something that curled through her body and made her skin feel as if it were alive with electricity.
“This is your last chance, Irene,” he said warningly. When he took a step toward her, she thought of a panther stalking its prey, its eyes bright to catch every movement.
Irene had to swallow twice before she could speak.
“I don’t want a last chance,” she said clearly. “I want you.”
It was like throwing gasoline on a fire. She felt more than heard his soft intake of breath. In a matter of seconds, he had crossed the floor to where she stood, catching her up in a wild embrace. Before she could say another word, his hard mouth slanted across hers. He was warm, so warm everywhere, bathing her senses in the sheer maleness of his body. His strength, his scent, the demand of his mouth, they overwhelmed her, and with a willing moan, she allowed herself to be drowned.
“I have wanted this since the first moment I met you,” he groaned. “When I first laid eyes on you, I knew that I needed to know how you felt, how you sounded when you moaned with pleasure…”
She could feel the tension that was threaded through his frame. He was all hard angles and muscles. When he shifted, she could feel his cock pressed up against her thigh. Without thinking about what she was doing, she pressed herself against him. The contrast of his hard body to her softness made her nearly dizzy with need and with pleasure.
Raheem’s laugh was nearly a groan.
“You could undo me with a single embrace,” he growled. “That’s the kind of power that you have over me. That is how much I want you.”
She laughed a little at the idea of someone like her being able to control a man like Raheem. There was something beyond belief about it, but Raheem seemed perfectly serious.
“You could make me beg,” he said, lifting her up in his arms. “You could make me crawl, if I were not careful.”
“That’s not what I want you to do,” she whispered huskily, and his answering laugh was harsh.
“No, I think I know what you might like, beautiful woman…”
He laid her on the bed, where a single beam of moonlight illuminated the white sheets. For a moment, he simply looked down at her. She wondered how she must look, sprawled in wild abandon over the bed. He reached for her dress. At first, she thought that he meant to undo her buttons, but as she reached to help him, he fisted his hands in the thin fabric and ripped it open. She gasped at his strength and her sudden exposure. Lying in the ruined remnants of her dress, wearing only a peach demi-bra and matching panties, she had never felt quite so exposed. Wide-eyed, she looked up at him, and his grin was very sharp.
“I was tired of being kept from your skin, your beauty,” he said, and he came down to rest his body on top of her.
He started to kiss her, resting his weight on his elbows. With a sense of utter dominance and desire, he toyed with her mouth, running the very tip of his tongue along her lower lip before sliding his tongue alongside hers with insinuating intimacy. She had never thought that kissing was a terribly erotic act, despite its intimacy, but now she could feel that it was only adding fuel to her fire. When he pressed his tongue between her lips, it was a sly intimation of what he was going to do later, and her body responded to it.
Irene ran her hands along his body, frustrated that he was still clothed. She tugged ineffectually at the fabric, wishing that she could tear it away as easy as he tore hers. She slid her hands along his sides, down his thighs, and then they came up again to cup the steel of his desire between her palms. Her intimate touch made him groan, and for a moment, she thought she had broken through that iron control. Instead, he drew back with a soft laugh.
“Clever girl, but too clever, I think, by half.”
She started to ask what he was going to do about it, but then he reached for one of the scraps of her dress. Before Irene could figure out what he was doing, he had captured her wrists, twining them together with the fabric before lashing the loose ends to the bars at the top of the bed. Now she was stretched underneath him, her hands helpless above her head. It should have been frightening, but there was something in her that had always craved being this open, this helpless under a man she was coming to realize she trusted so deeply.
“Well, what are you going to do with me now?” she asked, and somehow, it came out more sultry than frightened.
“Exactly what I want to do,” he responded, and he proceeded to drive her insane.
She could feel the electricity between them. If she was honest, it had been there, coloring their interactions since the first time they had laid eyes on each other. Despite that electricity burning brighter than it ever had, Raheem acted as if he didn’t notice it all. Like a man with all the time in the world, he started touching her bare skin gently, first with his fingertips and then with his palms. He ran his hands up and down her body, sensitizing her skin until it tingled.
With the same careless strength that he had used on her dress, he tore her panties away, leaving her gasping at the exposure. Raheem only chuckled as he palmed her soft flesh there, testing her warmth and her wetness.
“You feel so good here,” he murmured. “Like you want me. Like you’re already ready for me…”
She whimpered as he traced a taunting finger down her slit, sliding against the soft skin before pressing her folds apart with just the slightest pressure. She could feel how slippery she already was, and that was before his fingers moved higher to find her clit. With just a little more pressure, she was tilting her hips up to meet him. Her heels dug into the bed underneath her as she whimpered, wanting more.
“Look at how hot you are,” Raheem marveled. “So beautiful…”
With a smooth motion, he slid a finger into her warmth, wetting it and then bringing it back to her clit. His touch before had made her wild, but now she was nearly moaning with desperation. She could feel the pressure of her own climax rising inside her. She knew that if he just… kept… touching her the way he was, it would be inevitable.
Just when she was trembling on the verge of completion, he pulled his hand away, making her whimper.
“No, please, more,” she cried, too filled with need to even be worried about how she sounded. “Please, Raheem, I need more!”
His laugh was a purring growl, and he started to touch her again. She closed her eyes tight, fighting to get back to that place she was before. Soon enough, her body began to tremble, to tense, and then he pulled his hand away again.
She didn’t have words this time; Irene only groaned out loud, her eyes flying open and meeting his. Irene was shocked to see that instead of laughing at her, his gaze was as desperate with need as hers was.
“Please,” she whispered. “With me?”
He seemed to understand exactly what she meant. He rose from the bed, stripping his clothes off roughly before reaching into the cabinet by the bed. She watched with wide eyes as he sheathed himself with a condom. She had never known how sensuous it was before to see a man’s hands on his own cock, preparing himself for her.
When he returned, he came to stretch his full length over her.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. “Truly?”
With a soft cry, she nodded. If she could have, she would have thrown her arms around him. Instead, they were still pinioned over her head, stretching her out helpless underneath him.
He shifted until her legs were spread wide, and he lay between them. Now she could feel his hard proud member against her hot flesh. She felt him press his cock against her entrance, and then with one smooth motion, he entered her, not stopping until they were joined as closely as they could ever be. The feeling of being filled after being teased to the brink twice was exquisite, and for a moment, Irene simply closed her eyes, breathing at the sheer pleasure of it.
She didn’t have long to relish it, however. With a deep growl that seemed to echo through both their bodies, he began to thrust into her, growling as he moved above her. Somehow, she managed to get her heels underneath her so she could push up against him, increasing their pleasure and making him even more wild.
Irene could feel the savage pleasure inside her rise up again, and this time, she knew that there would be no tease, no moment where he would stop. Instead, the sensations that were shaking her body rose up higher and higher until just when she thought she couldn’t take it another moment, they crashed down in a climax that tore a full-throated scream from her lips. Her legs wrapped around Raheem’s as electricity danced through her frame, making her cry out again and again.
When the first rush of sensation subsided, she could feel Raheem reach his own crisis, his thrusts becoming less smooth and more frantic. He thrust into her heavily one last time, shaking as he froze above her. It occurred to her, lost in her pleasure, how beautiful he truly was, how beauty was etched into every line of his body.
Finally, he was still, poised above her, his dark hair covering his eyes. Irene wished in that moment that she could touch him, brush his hair back to see what he looked like so shaken with pleasure.
Instead, he leaned down to kiss her gently before reaching up to undo her bonds. She sat up, groaning a little as life came back to her hands and her wrists.
“Are they all right? Not too tight?” he asked, and she smiled at him, shy for all that she had spent the past few minutes shouting her pleasure so loudly that it had echoed in the room.
“That was the first time I’d done anything like that,” she confessed. “No, I don’t think that that was too tight at all.”
A slight shadow darkened his face, and Irene hastened to wrap her arms around him. They were both slightly slippery with sweat, worn out, but there was still enough in her to want to touch him, to comfort him if need be.
“I did not hurt you?” he asked.
“Never,” she promised. “That felt… amazing. It was beautiful.”
He sighed, draping a heavy bare arm over her shoulders.
“I have never felt what I feel for you before,” he confessed. “It is… more than a little alarming how quickly we have…”
Something about the way he spoke made Irene look up, even if she was tired to the bone.
“We have what?” she asked, but he was shaking his head.
“No,” he said. “There will be time to speak of this later. Right now, you should sleep.”
“I’m afraid to sleep,” she said bluntly. “I am afraid of what my dreams might bring me.”
Raheem winced a little at that, but he pressed her closer. Even when her heart was chewed to bits by what she had done, there was a comfort in it.
“Sleep now,” he said. “I will keep the dreams away.”
She sighed softly, closing her eyes. Sleep was already reaching for her, and this time, when she fell into it, her dreams were deep and quiet.