‘To ensure you and Tarek were safe.’
A mighty tremor racked Safiyah from head to toe. Whether from the idea of Karim—of anyone—putting her and her son first, or from the erotic intensity of his touch, she didn’t know. But her indignation bled out like water through sand.
Karim reached behind her. Then her bra was undone and he pushed it high. She felt his thighs tighten around her hips. He bent, one hand closing around her bare breast while his mouth locked onto the other. No feather-light caress this time. Karim drew her nipple hard into his mouth and fire shot from her breast to her womb, spilling liquid sparks in a torrent through her blood. His hand kneaded her other breast and she bucked against his constraining legs, trying to shuffle her own legs wider.
Safiyah had never known such urgency, such need. Doubt was forgotten as her fingers dug like talons into his hips. She wanted him to move so she could spread her legs, wanted him to stay where he was and ease the hollow feeling inside her.
He moved, lifting his head and his hand from her body, and Safiyah bit back a cry of loss. Everything in her throbbed, aching for more. She’d felt a weak shadow of something like this in the past, but never so intense.
She was still absorbing that when Karim tugged her boots and socks off, tossing them aside. Then his hands were on the zip of her trousers, wrenching it undone and hauling the fabric down.
Safiyah lifted her hips, helping him drag her trousers and underwear down over her thighs, past her knees, then off. Cool air brushed her skin as she wrestled off her shirt and bra.
But when she’d finished, eager to help Karim undress, he hadn’t started. Instead he knelt above her, his gaze like hot treacle, sliding over her bare body.
‘You’re beautiful.’ His voice was hoarse, his hands possessive as they skimmed her trembling flesh.
Safiyah caught his wrists, holding them still as she met his eyes. ‘You’re slow. Take your clothes off.’
Never had she spoken so. Never had she made sexual demands. But something had altered within her.
Maybe it was that uninhibited race down the beach, unleashing a woman more elemental, less cautious than the one she’d learned to be. Maybe it was the fact that with Karim, for this moment at least, she felt able to admit to desire rather than just submit to another’s wishes.
She felt strong as never before, even while his stance, as he loomed over her, was a reminder of his greater physical strength.
Karim laughed, the sound ripe and rich. Then he shifted off her. But instead of stripping his trousers off he moved lower, his hands spreading her bare legs. ‘I like a woman who knows her mind.’
Then, before her stunned eyes, he sank onto the sand, his hands on her upper thighs, his dark head between her legs.
Safiyah felt a slow, slick caress that trailed fire. And then another caress, in a way no one had ever touched her before, and she shuddered, a deep groan lifting up from the base of her ribs to lock in her throat.
She shook all over, torn between shocked rejection and utter delight. Her hands locked in that dark hair, clawed at his scalp. She was going to push him away, because what he was doing made her feel undone in a way she’d never known. It scared her and aroused her and demanded too much of her.
She was about to—
The third caress—slower, harder, more deliberate—turned into something new. Safiyah opened her mouth to demand he stop when something slammed into her and she lost her voice, herself, lost everything in a searing, sparking, exquisitely perfect moment of rapture.
Not a moment but an eternity. It went on and on, rolling through her taut, trembling, burning body. It went beyond acute delight to a soul-deep conflagration that catapulted her into the stars.
Karim gathered her close in his arms as she shuddered and gasped and clung. He’d expected passion, known there’d be pleasure, but this…
He stopped trying to catalogue why this was different and merely held her. Finally Safiyah softened in his embrace and turned into him, nuzzling at his collarbone.
He was smiling in anticipation of entering that satisfaction-softened body when he registered wetness on his skin. He pulled back just enough to look down at her face. She watched him with stunned eyes. Silvery streaks tracked her cheeks.
He frowned. ‘Safiyah? You’re crying.’ He’d had the occasional emotional lover, but the sight of Safiyah weeping unknotted something in his belly.
‘Am I?’ She raised a hand and wiped her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I just never—’ She bit her bottom lip, as if to stop the words tumbling out.
‘You never what?’
He waited, but her gaze slid away. He fancied he saw a blush rise in her cheeks, except surely in this light that was impossible. As was the notion her words had planted in his brain. It couldn’t be. Could it…?
‘Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?’
His voice rose in disbelief and he saw her face shutter. As if he’d accused her of something bad. It confounded him.
‘Safiyah, talk to me.’