“Sweet mercy!” he groaned.
She rose up, using her thigh muscles to glide in a steady rhythm against him. She gripped his hands and brought them to her breasts. The rosy tips begged for him to pinch them, and he did—hard.
Her channel spasmed around him, the inner muscles gripping him like a vise. The tip of his cock brushed her cervix over and over again as they thrust together.
Her mahogany hair fell down her back. Her lips were parted, and her eyes blazed with wonder and passion as she rode him with an urgency that told him she was on the verge of another orgasm. Never in his life had he had such a passionate or beautiful lover.
“Yes… yes… harder… oh, please…,” she breathed out in a choppy pant.
He gave her what she wanted. Pinching her nipples in a tight clasp, he surged into her every time she came down, burying himself to the hilt. With a strong flick of his fingers against her clit, he sent her over the edge, thrusting up as she collapsed on top of him in shuddering sobs.
His release came swiftly and with an intensity that took his breath away. Black spots danced in front of his eyes for a moment as he emptied his seed. He swept his arms around her, holding her to him as he continued to pulse.
He realized then that he had not used any protection. Deep down, he almost hoped that she wasn’t on any contraceptives either. If she became pregnant, it would be even more reason for what he was planning. He refused to feel guilty. The white patch on her side and the old scars riddled across her body made his decision all the more urgent.
His finger traced a long scar, probably from a knife, along her back. He couldn’t imagine the life she must have lived. She couldn’t be older than twenty-two or twenty-three. He buried his hands in her hair, holding her cheek against his thundering heart.
The primitive need to protect her grew until he tasted copper in his mouth. How she had remained so sexually innocent and yet so brazen in violence and conversation was a shocking mystery.
She was destined to be mine. She is my jamilat raqisat alqamar. My beautiful moon dancer.
* * *
Midnight ran her hands through the hair on Junayd’s chest. He was caressing her side, his fingers tracing around the bandage taped to it. He had been tracing the myriad of scars she had picked up over the years. She hadn’t realized how many she had collected until then.
“I… hadn’t expected… this to be quite so intense or so enjoyable,” she mused.
His body shook with his laughter and his arms cradled her closer to his muscular frame. She also hadn’t expected him to be so bulked up. He was a freaking doctor. Most of the doctors she knew weren’t nearly this in shape.
“You should have told me that you were a virgin,” he murmured, kissing her temple.
She stretched, enjoying the unexpected tightness in muscles she didn’t realize she had and rolled to look down at him. He splayed his hand across her bare butt. For someone who normally didn’t like to be touched, she loved the feel of his hands on her.
“Would it have made a difference?” she asked.
Her hair hung down over her shoulder and feathered across his chest. His eyes flared with that sexy burn. An answering fire ignited in her and she squeezed her thighs. She shifted her leg until his firm ballocks rested against her knee.
“None,” he murmured, lifting a hand and threading it through her hair. “It just makes me even more the villain. The dastardly kidnapper stealing a maiden’s innocence.”
She blinked in surprise.
Kidnapper?
Before she could ask, he guided her head down to his and captured her lips. A soft moan of pleasure slipped from her and she shifted over him until she was straddling him once more.
Questions can come later,she decided, losing herself in the pleasure of his embrace again.
Twelve
Junayd woke with a start. His hand reached out for Midnight and encountered nothing but cool sheets. A quick glance at the clock showed it was a little after four in the morning.
He tossed the covers back and rose. The bathroom door opened before he took more than a couple of steps. He scowled when Midnight emerged fully dressed.
She paused in the doorway. A dim nightlight in the bathroom silhouetted her.
“Where do you think you are going?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep.
She walked over to him and caressed his cheek. In the moonlight coming through the windows, he could see that her eyes were soft with emotion. He grasped her wrist.