Claimed For The Desert Prince's Heir / A Shocking Proposal In Sicily. Heidi Rice
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She would return to the palace today. Cat and Zane would be frantic with worry—she’d been lost for over twenty-four hours already. She would go back to Cambridge at the end of the month. She had no intention of venturing into the desert alone after this, so she would be unlikely to see him again.
Why couldn’t she have this moment? When she wanted him so much? And what better person to initiate her than a man she had idolised? A man who was supposed to be an incredible lover? A man whose ‘assets’ she’d been assessing most of the night?
He nodded, accepting her surrender as if he had expected no less. Then he grunted something in his own dialect.
She didn’t need a translation, though, when his nostrils flared, his gaze becoming so focused her flesh felt scalded.
Standing, he tugged her to her feet. Framing her face in his hands, he positioned her head, then licked the seam of her lips. She opened for him instinctively. The kiss was firm, coaxing. The hunger roared from her core. She had expected him to devour her, but his tongue danced with hers, allowing her to follow his lead in subtle licks.
But as the hunger built, the driving need became more urgent, and the kiss changed, his tongue exploring her mouth and capturing her sighs as he demanded more.
His hands skimmed up her back underneath her T-shirt. The hook of her bra was released. She gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed by sensation as he cupped her breasts, playing with the responsive nipples until she was sobbing into his mouth, the tight peaks yearning for more.
He lifted his head, his eyes dark and unfocused. ‘I want you naked, Kasia.’
The gruff request shimmered across her skin, and the ache in her breasts intensified, the hot spot between her thighs throbbing.
She nodded, no longer capable of coherent speech.
Stepping back, he lifted the grubby T-shirt over her head, disposed of the bra.
She folded her arms over her chest, desperately self-conscious.
‘No,’ he said as he captured her wrists. ‘Do not hide, you are so beautiful.’
She felt beautiful as she forced herself to relax, to let him pull her arms gently away from her body. The morning sunlight gilded his chest, making her aware of the bunch of muscle.
The huge erection stood proud under the loose cotton pants and her mouth watered as she imagined seeing him naked and fully erect. But to her surprise, he sank to his knees in front of her. Undoing the buttons on her shorts, he watched her as he drew the denim down with her panties. His rough hands slid down her legs, stripping her bare with exquisite tenderness.
She stepped out of her shorts at his direction, the need charging through her system as he blew across the triangle of curls, then pressed his face into her sex.
She gripped his shoulders—so broad, so solid—to steady herself as he opened her with his thumbs and licked.
She shuddered, her ragged panting filling the tent as he lapped at the very heart of her. He held her firmly for the shattering exploration. Licking, sucking, discovering the root of her pleasure and ruthlessly exploiting it.
At last he captured the swollen nub of her clitoris and suckled.
The climax broke over her, the waves battering her body. She collapsed over his shoulder, the afterglow like an impenetrable cloud of bliss.
‘More,’ he grunted, as he stood, lifting her.
Within seconds, she lay on the bed as he stood over her, blocking out the sunlight. He shucked his pants.
Her gaze devoured his nakedness, her tender sex melting at the sight of that massive erection—even larger and harder than she had imagined.
‘I need to be inside you,’ he said, as he covered her body with his.
‘Yes,’ she croaked.
She wanted that thick length inside her. Wanted to recapture the glorious oblivion.
Hooking her leg around his waist, to leave her open to him, he angled her hips.
The pinch of pain made her stiffen as he thrust deep. She choked off a cry, struggling to absorb the overwhelming feel of him, lodged so fully inside her.
He swore, every sinew of his body going deadly still. She couldn’t read his features, cast into shadow by the dazzling sunlight, but she could feel his shock.
‘You were untouched?’ he said, the question coming out on a tortured rasp.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I should have told you.’
‘Yes, but it is too late now,’ he said.
She didn’t know what he meant. Was he angry with her? But he didn’t sound angry, just stunned.
He touched her cheek, cradled her face.
‘Am I hurting you?’
It did hurt a little, he was so large and hard inside her. But she didn’t want to lose the connection.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to feel the pleasure again.’
He buried his face into her neck, pressed his lips to the sensitive skin under her ear, and circled her breast with his thumb. Teasing, tempting, until the tendrils of sensation returned.
‘You must tell me if it hurts,’ he said as he grasped her hips, anchoring her to him.
The arrows of sensation darted into her sex, devastating and demanding, echoing the same relentless rhythm as he drew out and sank back.
He rocked his hips, further, faster, nudging a place deep inside her, triggering a new tsunami of sensation.
Kasia sobbed. The storm was so much stronger and wilder this time, whipping at her skin, making every pulse point ache.
The pleasure overpowered her, battering her body and making her heart swell. She clung to him, the only solid object in the storm—just like before, her staggered mind cried, when he had cocooned her as the sandstorm had raged.
She screamed as he drove her over that final ledge and she plunged into the abyss, exquisite joy bursting everywhere.
She heard him shout as he collapsed on top of her, and his seed spurted into her womb.
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Raif struggled to control the vicious punch of his heartbeat, and forced his fingers to release their death grip on Kasia’s hips.
Shame and horror galloped on the heels of groggy afterglow as he withdrew from the tight clasp of her body