“I want you to touch me between my legs,” she managed, a flush rushing over her cheeks with her words. “I want you to touch me everywhere. Anywhere.” She lifted her hips closer to his hand. “I want you to make me come. Right now.”
Yes, yes. Finally, yes.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mira barely believed the words spilling from her mouth.
But she didn’t stop them. She was too swept up in some all-consuming desire she couldn’t remember feeling before. Not for her ex-boyfriends. Not even for Devin.
It had to be the magical effects of the opal. That was the only thing that made sense. The heat from the stone burned against her chest, warming her skin. But she really didn’t care how or why it was happening. All she could focus on was the sinfully erotic way Tariq’s fingers were finally—finally—skimming her sex, sliding beneath her panties and into her wetness, then back up again to circle her clit and drag a moan from her throat.
She wanted to pry open her eyes, to see if he was watching her reaction, but she was almost afraid to look. Because if she didn’t see desire in his eyes…if this was only duty…
The heat began to dim, the arousal dampen. He’d said he wanted her, but that could just be a line. Like the guy who pretended to have a good time on a first date, promised to call, and then never did.
This is not a date.
“Stay with me, Mira.” Tariq’s husky voice cut through her musings, pulled her back from the edge. “Lift up.”
Eyes clenched tightly closed, she lifted her hips. Sucked in a breath as he dragged her panties down her thighs.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Mira. Look at me pleasuring you.”
The erotic vision his words conjured sent heat careening through her veins once more, and she blinked in the sunshine and looked down her body, only to experience that rush of heat all over again when his fingers brushed her sex.
Lust darkened his eyes. Sweat glistened on his brow. And the way he was watching her—as if he wanted to taste her right where he was touching her—made her whole body tremble.
He palmed her breast with one hand, slid one finger of his other hand lower, inside, and she tightened around him as he knelt on the ground between her legs, as he slid his finger out, then back in deeper, as the warmth of his breath rushed over her clit.
“Do you want me to taste you, Mira? Do you want my mouth here?”
He nuzzled her sex, and she was so caught up in the lust, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She pushed up to her elbows, marveled at his dark head between her thighs, tightened around his fingers as he pressed back in with two. “Yes. Yes, I want that.”
He lowered his head, laved his tongue along her clit, circled and swirled as he thrust in and out with his fingers, drawing her closer to oblivion. She groaned, dropped her head back, lifted her hips so he could stroke her deeper, so he could taste more of her. His fingers were thick, his tongue wet and so damn salacious flicking her most sensitive spot. Her climax raced closer. She wanted to delay it, wanted to prolong the pleasure but knew she wouldn’t be able to. This whole day was more erotic than anything she’d experienced in her whole life.
“Come for me, Mira. Come in my mouth. Let me taste your release.”
Electricity gathered in her pelvis and exploded in a burst of lightning, lancing through her limbs to steal her breath. Every muscle in her body spasmed as the orgasm hit. Her elbows went out from under her. White-hot ecstasy consumed every part of her.
Her back landed against the chaise. She spiraled through an abyss of sensations, then slowly sound returned, followed by the warmth of the sun against her skin, the brush of the warm breeze, the feel of Tariq, whispering hot words against her sex she didn’t understand. He smoothed his fingers through her wetness, bringing her down slowly, pressing his lips to her hip, her lower belly, her breasts all over again.
Her chest rose and fell as she tried to suck air. Stars fired off behind her closed eyelids. She blinked several times, finally pulled her eyes open, and stared up at the thatched roof above.
Tariq moved up her body and into her line of sight. She looked into his dark eyes, saw satisfaction and heat. A heat that reignited a burning passion she thought he’d quenched.
She lifted her hand, brushed it across his rough cheek and, before she thought better of it, lifted and pressed her mouth to his.
This time, he drew in a surprised breath, and she wondered if she wasn’t supposed to kiss him, if it was against the rules. Then he opened for her, groaned into her mouth, and whatever worry she’d had fled. He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his body into hers and stroked her tongue deeply, roughly, as if he’d been wanting to kiss her from the start. As if he couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to let her go.
Her fingers rushed up into his hair, fisted. Her mouth turned greedy against his. She opened her legs, felt his erection press against her already overheated sex, and couldn’t wait to feel him inside her.
That—what he’d done for her…the way he’d pleasured her—had been amazing. No, not amazing, electric, incredible, like nothing she’d ever experienced. He knew exactly where to touch a woman and what to say to make her come apart. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted all of him.
“Tariq…” She kissed him deeper, changed the angle of the kiss, lifted her hips to show him what she wanted. He answered by pushing up on his hands, rubbing his very aroused erection between her legs, making her moan with the promise of ecstasy all over again.
But before she could find a way to free him of his pants, he broke the kiss and stared down at her, his chest heaving.
His face was flushed with desire, his lips swollen from her mouth, his eyes as dark as she’d ever seen them. She knew he wanted her. She could feel that want swelling against her sex. But there was something else in his gaze, something that stopped her from ripping his clothes off and having him.
“Hayaati… I can’t. Not like this.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about. Didn’t know what that word meant, but she loved the sound of it falling from his lips. Loved the way he was looking at her, as if he couldn’t control his desire. As if she was dragging him to the edge as he’d done to her. “Tariq—”
“Did I pleasure you?” He cut her off so quickly, she faltered.
“Yes. Yes,” she managed, trying to ignore the look. Trying to ignore the shot of worry it sent spearing into her chest. He’d pleasured her more thoroughly than anyone ever had. She lifted her hips again, tried to get him to move against her. Grew hot at the thought of returning the favor, of drawing him deep into her mouth and swirling her tongue over his cock until he exploded in her mouth. Then she wanted to ride him until they both came a second time. “I want to taste you now. I want to make you feel as good as I do.”
He pushed back farther from her body. “That is not part of the deal.”
Deal? Deal? Screw the deal. She didn’t care that she’d never felt this kind of desire before, that she’d never needed to be the one giving the pleasure instead of the other way around. But it was all she could think about. All she could feel. She wanted to be the one to make him shudder in release, to feel his orgasm consume him, to know she was the one who’d given him pleasure as no one else had ever done.
She lifted her hips, grew more frustrated when he eased off her body. When he put space between them. He shook his head again, brought her fingers to his lips, kissed each one gently. “Not now, hayaati,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll never survive. You have to go back before it’s too late.”