Author Notes: This story is pure smut, and it’s also a prequel to my story Behind Closed Doors. Takes place after The Mummy but years before The Mummy Returns. Feedback welcome.
Disclaimer: The character of Ardeth Bay is owned by Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios.
He was so close now that she had to look up to see his face; could feel the heat emanating from his body and smell the warm, musky male scent of his skin as he slowly pulled her to him. Their bodies almost touching, he rested his other hand lightly on her waist and with the other reached up to tuck an errand lock of hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek in his palm, his touch surprising her with its tenderness; the gentle movement of his fingers against her skin somehow incongruous coming from such an intense and strong man, a fierce warrior. She had seen him fight; witnessed first hand his skill and prowess in battle even before she knew who he was. Yet towards her, he had never been anything but gentle and courteous.
Ardeth kept his touch light as he traced the contours of her face with his fingertips. Her sun-warmed skin was silky soft and smooth beneath his fingers as she slightly turned her head, leaning into the caress. A quiet sigh signaled her surrender. Her eyes, dark and mysterious, drew him in their depths as she watched him, watching her. There was something very serene about her; she had made a decision, and trusted that she knew herself well enough to have made the right one. And she also trusted him, Ardeth realized. During the past eight months their relationship, if it could be called that, had grown closer. She trusted him enough to be comfortable around him, that he would treat her with caring and respect. The knowledge of her trust was heady; it elated him and inflamed him in equal measure; and even as he felt again the familiar pangs of lust she always roused in him, Ardeth made a silent vow to never betray her trust.
He more sensed than heard Angelina sigh softly, and the sounds of the city faded into distance as he gave himself over to the simple but long yearned for pleasure of touching her, being close to her. He had desired her for such a long time, and finally, she was in his arms, tangible and real. It was her warm silky skin under his fingers, and where his hand rested on her waist, it was her soft, womanly flesh that radiated warmth underneath the smooth silk of her blouse, making his palm tingle with the need to caress her; to discover all the soft, sweet, hidden places that had been driving him to distraction far longer than he cared to think about. Hell, just the thought of touching her made his entire body tingle as nerve endings sang in anticipation. Blood rushed heavily in his veins and he felt himself harden as he imagined exploring her body, the pleasures he would give her, and find in her.
It felt so good to be touched again; she had held herself aloof and apart for so long that Angelina had forgotten how it felt to have another human being touching her intimately… to know the touch of a lover. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she missed it. She let her eyes drift closed, to better enjoy the tenderness in Ardeth’s touch, the feel of his long elegant fingers as they slowly traveled over her face, teasing nerve endings awake as he unhurriedly mapped the terrain new to him.
Angelina hadn’t known her face could feel so sensitized; as if his fingers were leaving invisible currents of electricity wherever they touched. Delicate shivers of excitement were tingling up and down her spine, awakening nerve endings; the effects of the simple touch reaching far further than her face. Old and familiar feelings and sensations were stirring to life deep within her… feelings and sensations that had once been a joyous part of her life, once upon a time, but that had lain dormant, repressed and unacknowledged if not forgotten for a long time. The light but infinitely reassuring weight of his hand on her waist, the warmth of his palm and fingers as they moved in a light caress, waking a yearning in her flesh.
The light touch was unbelievably tantalizing as he made a foray to trace the shell of her ear before coming to rest against the sensitive corner of her mouth. Angelina made a small moan in the back of her throat, taking a step closer and lifting her hands up to grip his steely biceps, delighting in the feel of the hard muscles underneath the layers of cloth that separated her from his warm flesh. Slightly breathless from anticipation, she waited, wanting to feel that light touch upon her lips, feeling as if her entire being was focused on that one purpose.
Ardeth was absorbed in Angelina, drinking in every expression; savoring every nuance like a man starved. His heart thudded heavily as he reveled in the obvious pleasure she derived from his touch. Her eyes were closed; he wanted them to open, wanted to see the sensations he was rousing in her reflected in the their dark depths. The intense need to have her look at him, really look at him and see him and want him, wrenched his gut almost like a physical pain as it mixed with an overwhelming urge to feel her smooth, supple flesh heat in passion under his hands and her lips clinging to his, her voluptuous body writhing underneath him in passions lure.
The vivid, erotic images dancing through his mind sending blood rushing straight to his groin and as his shaft swelled to full throbbing erection, he sucked in a deep breath and then released it slowly. If he let her, Angelina would make him burn hotter and faster than any other woman before her. By Allah, he had waited for her longer than any other woman… Now that she finally was in his arms, no matter what kind of fevered messages his unruly body sent to his brain, he sure as hell was not going to spoil this by rushing. She deserved more than that… and he wanted more than that.
Tilting her chin up, Ardeth lightly brushed his lips over hers, then pulled back slightly to look at her. She answered his gaze; offering no objection and he kissed her again, molding her lips with gentle pressure. Her lips were soft and yielding under his as she responded, returning each long, slow, leisurely kiss first hesitantly, then with growing confidence. He felt her hands twine loosely about his neck, her fingers lazily toying with strands of his hair as the kiss grew in intensity. Her sweet, honey flavored taste filled his mouth and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, not thrusting deep but inviting her to taste him. Making a small sound of pleasure, she accepted the invitation, letting her tongue slide against his in an intimate caress that made his heart thud in heady delight, and he very nearly groaned out loud. In the next instant, his breath hitched and he did groan out loud – for without breaking the kiss, Angelina had closed the small space still separating them and pressed her body up against him, looping her arms tighter around his neck. A powerful surge of need jolted through him, and his world spun, narrowing until its sole focus was the woman in his arms.
The kiss ignited with urgency driven by days and nights of carnal frustration, years’ worth of frustrated, unfulfilled desire. Ardeth molded his lips against hers, adjusting, searching, coaxing, demanding her to respond to his hunger with her own, drowning in another tide of red-hot lust when she did. Her fingers tangled into his hair to hold his head still, and she kissed him back hungrily, their tongues engaging in a heated dance of passion and need. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ardeth was dimly aware that the burning need was getting dangerously close to flaring into a full-blown inferno of desire; that control was rapidly spinning away from him. Angelina dominated his senses – he couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t feel anything else but the feel and weight of her soft, luscious body against his own, and the sweet taste of her mouth underneath his.
Angelina was drowning in the heated pleasure Ardeth was bestowing upon her, hungering for more. His lips were soft but firm, his mouth hot as he devoured her mouth with kisses that set her blood ablaze. He was boldly aroused; she could feel his erection thick and hard against her stomach, and his unabashed desire for her sent a searing wave of need shooting through her entire body. It had been a long since a lover had embraced her; too long since she had felt desired, and much too long since she herself had desired. She felt more acutely, more intensely alive than she could remember ever having felt before, and it was because of Ardeth. She thrilled in the sensations he was awakening in her, finding herself clinging to him, responding to his every touch with a burning need she hadn’t known herself capable of.
She whimpered a protest deep in her throat when Ardeth dragged his mouth from hers, instantly missing the heat and taste of his breath, the pressure and texture of his lips on her own. He ran his open mouth along the line of her jaw, skimming her lightly with his teeth, then nipped the sensitive, silken skin beneath her ear, making her shiver delicately. How had she managed to remain ignorant of the attraction singing between them for so long, she wondered briefly, then stopped thinking altogether, and only felt as he returned to her mouth, claiming it in another mind-drugging kiss that had them clinging to each other under another onslaught of passion.
Ardeth’s mouth ground into hers, his lips hot and firm, robbing her of breath and she returned the kiss with equal fervor and stroked her palms over his back and shoulders, feeling the steely strength of him under her fingers and around her and against her, everywhere and anywhere she could reach, and she delighted in the feel of him, so solid and real that she wanted to weep with the delicious, hot joy of it. Instead, she moaned her pleasure and want into his mouth, delicate shivers racing up and down her spine, pressing her body ever tighter against his. Heat radiated all along her nerves, and, in the pit of her stomach, there was a deep burning; a churning, writhing need that demanded to be satisfied. The exquisite feel and heat of his hard, muscular body heavenly distinctive even through the layers of cloth separating her from his bare flesh, and she arched against him wildly, longing for a more intimate contact with that hard ridge of aroused male flesh pushing against her, tantalizing her with its nearness.
As if knowing her need, Ardeth slid his hands down the length of her spine, and, cupping her buttocks, lifted her up and inwards and pulled tight against him. The sweet, aching emptiness deep in the pit of her belly multiplied thousand fold as he moved his hips, seeking the cradle of hers. She more felt than heard him groan harshly in his throat when his swollen flesh found the warm notch at the apex of her thighs, and she would have groaned herself, had she had the breath. She couldn’t have checked the convulsive arching of her hips had she wanted to; instinctively rubbing herself against him, wanting, needing, to ease the churning need stirring so deep inside her.
His fingers flexing against the ripe, resilient flesh of her buttocks, Ardeth couldn’t stop another rugged moan of need and lust tearing from deep within his chest. Blood roared through his veins in a hot, ungovernable rush at the feel of Angelina moving against him, responding with abandoned delight, rubbing herself back and forth against his throbbing, swollen shaft, while her mouth moved against his own with ever greater urgency, and he cold no more stop his body’s urgent, dominant instinct, than he could stop the flow of blood in his veins. His fingers curled around the firm globes of her buttocks and fitted her hips even better against his, grinding his erection hard against the soft yielding notch between her thighs.
He knew a moment of alarm – that he had misread the level of her passion, or scared her acting in such a blatantly sexual manner – when she suddenly tore her mouth from his, but she had only needed air, and Ardeth could feel her chest rising and lifting hard as she greedily gulped in the treasured substance. Then, in the next moment, she had pulled his long hair out of the way and buried her face in the groove of his throat and shoulder, and then it was his turn to gulp in air as he felt her soft, full lips and warm, wet tongue on his sensitive skin, kissing, licking, nibbling her way down to the small hollow of his throat. Her breath was hot against his skin, and even if his life had depended on it he could not have kept back the deep sound – half moan, half growl – that rumbled up from his chest as she bit him just hard enough to let him feel the sharp bite of her teeth and then laved the hurt with warm, loving, wet licks of her tongue that sent frissons of electricity shooting all along his body. A shudder racked through his body as Angelina skimmed his heated skin lightly with her teeth on her way up the other side of his throat, and he gripped her even harder against his urgently throbbing flesh. The exquisite pressure sent his already inflamed senses spinning dizzyingly, and through the lust shrouding his mind, Ardeth realized that unless he intended to take her standing up, or bore her down on the hard ground, he had better move them on to the bed now, while still he had the presence of mind to think of anything other than burying himself deep inside her. Another shiver racked his body at that thought, and, gritting his teeth against the burning surge of lust that writhed in his body like a living thing, Ardeth forced his fingers to uncurl from around her buttocks, and wrapping his arms about her back and hips he lifted her from her feet. Holding her pinned against his body he quickly made his way to the bed.
Feeling light as a leaf on his strong arms, Angelina was vaguely aware that Ardeth was carrying her somewhere. Lost in the taste and feel of his skin and too busy appreciating the way his muscular body moved against hers, she hadn’t even begun to contemplate finding out where he was carrying her when he already stopped and set her back on her feet. His hands moved over her in light caresses, tracing the hills and valleys of her body, and she was helpless to stop the swaying of her body, flowing to meet his every touch. Only when she felt the blouse leave her shoulders and slide down her arms to fall on the floor, she realized he was divesting her of her clothing.
She felt fevered, her skin too tight and she missed the pressure of his body against hers with an intense longing that surpassed anything in her experience – her need for his touch so overwhelming that she would surely go mad if she didn’t feel his naked skin on her naked skin soon. She helped him eagerly, guiding his hands to the fastenings of her skirt. He pushed the skirt down her hips and legs along with her panties; she eagerly raised her arms up so that he could slip the chemise over her head to leave her standing naked in front of him, fighting an instinct to cover her nudity as he let his eyes roam over her nude body.
Ardeth’s face was hard, taut, like that of a man on the verge of agony, as he stared down at her naked flesh like a man starved. She shivered, feeling seared by those dark smoldering eyes raking up and down her body, his gaze lingering on her breasts and at the juncture of her thighs. She felt acutely vulnerable, but also giddily exited, to be standing there in front of him stark naked, while he was still fully dressed, and slowly hot color climbed to her cheeks under his continued scrutiny. Slowly, as if it had a mind of its own, his right hand lifted and one long elegant finger extended to brush a puckered nipple ever so lightly, making her take a sharp breath and arch her chest towards the light touch.
A quiet, strangled sort of sound came from Ardeth’s throat and he snatched his hand from her body as if she had burned him. Nearly ripping the lacings of his robe in his haste to get rid of it, he swiftly shed his clothes, dropping them on to the growing pile at their feet – and then he stood naked before her, and it was her turn to stare, mesmerized. He was beautiful, the broad expanse of his shoulders and chest narrowing to trim waist and hips and long, beautifully formed strong muscular legs. He was very muscular, much more so than her husband – trained for strength, speed and endurance. She couldn’t take her eyes off him; the smooth expanse of warm caramel skin stretching over taut muscles beckoned her irresistibly, and she raised one hand to trace a bluish tattoo, before moving on to a flat brown male nipple, circling it with one finger, and, fascinated, watched it pucker, sensing the quivering tension in his body mounting as the lone questing digit slid down the center of his chest.
The hard, ridged muscles of his flat abdomen rippled, bunching and releasing under her fingertips as she stopped there and spread her fingers to press against the warm skin, feeling the steely muscles underneath. Her eyes traveled lower, riveted by that potent rod of male flesh jutting demandingly towards her from a nest of black curls, throbbing hungrily. She licked her suddenly dry lips, caught between surge of lust so strong her knees threatened give under her, and a frisson of alarm at his size – she’d known he was big, but facing the reality was quite different from imagining it. She knew there was bound to be some discomfort when he would first enter her, for she had not had a lover since her husband’s death, and Ardeth was generously endowed. But the thought of such intimate discomfort wasn’t the deterrent it might have been; instead she felt her body responding, melting, readying itself for him. She had always thought Ardeth Bay to be a most impressive sight – all the Medjai warriors were – but naked and aroused, as she was seeing him now, he was breathtaking – strong and powerful and untamed.
Ardeth waited in agonized silence for her next move, intently watching the play of expressions on her face. He had not realized until he was nude how very important it was that she found his body desirable; he already knew she appreciated his mind, he wanted her to appreciate his body as well, and his mind and heart soared with the knowledge that she desired him the same way he her. But the sight of her body was slowly but surely driving him mad. She was so tantalizingly close that he could sense the warmth of her skin on his own and smell the scent of her arousal. Her satiny skin was many shades lighter than his own, but not as light as that of the Inglizi; a visible testimony to her mixed parentage. Her full, round breasts were a little heavier than he’d imagined, and her delicate, sensitive nipples made his mouth water. His hands yearned to know their shape, to span her waist and to explore the flaring roundness of her hips, the long expanse of her legs and that secret, feminine place between them. But at the moment all he could do was to focus on the lone questing finger as it took up its exploration again, this time joined with a single finger of her other hand as well as they darted around to his hipbones and drifted down his thighs, her caress simultaneously maddeningly arousing and frustrating. His thighs was not the place he ached to feel her hands on; but he was also damn certain that were she to grant him his wish, he would quite simply explode, spilling his seed before either of them intended. So with that in mind he captured her hands before she could do more damage, and pulled her to him, kissing her. He dropped on the bed on his back, taking her with him. The feel of her nude body on top of him was a sweet shock, and he rolled, again taking her with him, feeling the smooth length of her now half underneath him; and it was an exquisite torment. His hands were endlessly curious, endlessly delighting in the feel of her; stroking her, smoothing over her flesh, wanting more, needing more.
Angelina whimpered at the acute sense of loss when Ardeth released her mouth, turning her head restlessly, trying to recapture his lips. But he wouldn’t be deterred; the rougher scrape of his goatee was a stark contrast to the warm velvet softness of his lips as Ardeth slid his mouth hotly down the long column of her throat to nuzzle the hollow at the base of her neck. His hands, warm and sure, stroked her flesh with delicious knowledge, his touch making her quiver and sigh in heated pleasure – she felt fevered; her breath coming in gasps, and she wanted to feel his hands all over her. She drew in a ragged breath as he cupped her breasts, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs across tightly puckered nipples, and she moaned aloud at the pure heat that surged through her.
Their legs tangled, and one hard-muscled leg slid between hers. His muscled thigh was hard and hairy and enticing, riding up along the delicate skin of her inner thigh, coming to rest against the vulnerable, feminine mound between her legs. He pressed against her, gently, lazily, rubbing her with his thigh. Moaning, her hips lifting to meet him, Angelina knew she was dampening him with her eager response; and she knew that he was highly aroused by it – she could feel it in the heightening tension of his body, in the way his lips hotly closed over a turgid nipple, making her dig her fingers in the hard muscles of his shoulders and arch her chest into his mouth. She cried out in pleasure and need as he suckled her hard, his hands stroking all over her body, the hungry, passionate tenderness of his touch making her shiver.
She could feel the entire length of his lean, muscular body along the side of hers, almost on top of her. His heat seared her skin, warming her until she felt like she was burning up, his hands and mouth driving her mad. She marveled at his self control; she could sense the lust coursing through him, feel the need gathering inside him like a storm; the proof of it was throbbing thick and hard and hot against her hip, pulsing with a life of its own, and she ached to feel him thrust inside her, quenching this terrible burning deep inside her with his passion.
Burning with the need to touch him, Angelina slid her arms around his bare back, running the tips of her fingers down the groove of his spine, reveling in the feel of strong muscles under her palms, and the way they tightened under her touch. His skin was hot and smooth to the touch and – knowing with feminine instinct that Ardeth’s self control would not extend to allow it now, or her own for that matter – she resolved that later, before the night was over, she would learn its textures not only with her hands but with her mouth as well.
Triumphant lust pounded through him with heavy demand, glorying in the fact that he had same effect on Angelina as she had on him; the proof of it in the way she was moving wantonly, urgently, against him, her back arching and hips lifting, her hands and lips gliding restlessly, urgently, over his fevered skin leaving streaks of fire in their wake. He could feel the damp proof of her desire on his thigh where it pressed and rubbed the plump cushion of flesh at the juncture of her thighs. Her passion was a brand, searing his flesh, and it was all he could do not to tug her beneath him and plunge deep inside her, to find blessed relief for his throbbing erection; he was hanging on to his self control by a thin thread, and it was getting thinner by each passing second.
She traced the contours of his tight rounded buttocks, forming her palms to the round firmness of his flesh, delighting in the hot feel of him. Ardeth’s body arched, pressing hard against her own fevered skin as she fondled and knead the firm flesh and eliciting a deep, male groan from Ardeth that she felt, rather than heard, in the gush of warm moist air against a turgid nipple as his tongue curled hotly around it, chafing the swollen tissue and sending arrows of electricity straight to her groin and making her arch and cry out in pure need. Liquid heat pooled between her legs and she squirmed, rubbing and rubbing herself against the thigh he was pressing so enticingly against her and clutching at him with frantic fingers.
Blood roared in his ears, drowning out her cry. She moved against him wantonly, maddeningly; her legs opening and closing and her hands clutching at his ass and thigh in an effort to ease the burning within. An overwhelming surge of pure lust exploded in his body, obliterating all but the most tenuous of control he still had on himself. His engorged manhood throbbed in nearly painful erection, and he half groaned, half growled in the grips of the commanding need – he wanted her, needed to bury himself inside her – now. He would go mad, if he did not; every cell of his being was screaming at him; he had never before wanted anything or anyone as he wanted her.
“Angelina,” he muttered, his voice husky and raw, almost guttural, his breath rasping as it left his chest, and he clasped her hip with bruising force, welding her against his thigh for a moment. Then suddenly, his thigh was gone from her body, and she cried out at the acute sense of loss, instinctively surging towards him, but the cry turned into a breathless moan as he mounted her, bracing his weight on one bulging forearm. She spread her thighs wider and felt the eager dampness between them even as he fitted his lean hips snugly into the soft hollow of her loins, urging her legs further apart, making a place for himself there. She panted with the pleasure of feeling his heavy weight on top of her, pinning her to the mattress; the tightly leashed strength of his taut muscles and the heat of his body combining to envelop her in a cocoon of exhilarating sense of desire, and danger, and surprisingly, utter safety. She loved his roughness, the wild savagery of his hunger; it reached into some deep inner place – a sensual, sexual well that had never been really explored – she had always known existed within her but had never been able to tap into before, and she knew with every fiber of her being that one night with him would not be enough for her, not even close.
Ardeth grimly hung onto what tatters of sanity he had left. The feel of her soft, feminine body underneath his own hard muscled form was a heavenly torment as he stubbornly fought against his body’s imperative, primal urge to plunge into her receptive body immediately, unceremoniously, to end this terrible gnawing need inside him, and in the taking, make her his, for ever. Sucking in deep gulps of air to maintain a measure of control and shifting his weight to one side, he stroked his hand down the smooth, taut expanse of her abdomen to comb his fingers through the tightly curled dark hair at the apex of her thighs, urging her thighs further apart to admit his exploration. Strung on the tight wire of anticipation, she eagerly complied; he ran his fingers along the secret, tender folds, feeling the slickness, the exquisite softness. He gently squeezed and stroked her, drawing an intricate design on her heated flesh until she moaned and writhed, breathless with desire. Only then he dipped one long finger boldly into the slit, opening her, probing with unerring skill, and pushed deep up into her body, feeling her hot, slick sheath stretch to accommodate him. He heard her breath snag, and her arms came up to twine around his neck.
“You are very tight,” it sounded like exultation and a curse at the same time. Angelina could barely hear his voice through the roaring in her ears, and then it took a few moments for her lust-addled brain to translate what he had said for he had spoken in his native Arabic. His probing finger felt very big and rough, rasping at the delicate inner flesh of her sheath, and the pleasure was so acute it was almost painful.
Her inner muscles contracted gently, adjusting, caressing the intruder, and Ardeth’s entire body shivered a heated response. She was tight about his finger, damned tight, and he felt ready to explode from just imagining the hot, moist, intimate clasp of her body around his burgeoning manhood. Swallowing hard, he withdrew his finger and thrust again, eliciting a little, breathless cry of pleasure from her; he liked that so much he did it again, and again, her breathless cries reverberating all along his nerve endings.
Gently but swiftly he withdrew his finger from her body and saw her passion glazed eyes widen as he quickly sucked his finger clean, briefly pausing to savor the sweet, spicy taste of her nectar. He felt his own eyes widen as she gripped his wrist, and she stared at him with wide eyes, she opened her mouth but no sound came out, and she tried again.
“I… you… do you like how I taste?” her husky, breathless voice was curious, her tone both hopeful and embarrassed.
Ardeth paused. “I love how you taste… all over.” His voice was purposely soft and husky on the last words. His hand covered the soft feminine mound at the apex of his thighs, and he saw her close her eyes briefly and she swallowed. Then her hand covered his hand.
“Then would you kiss me… all over?” Her voice was as soft and husky as his, her eyes and tone of voice, and the hand covering his at the juncture of her thighs conveying exactly where she wanted to be kissed. A flush slowly spread from her face down her neck; and Ardeth had a sudden insight to why she was reacting the way she was when otherwise she had been as eager and brazen as he.
“Have you not been kissed in this manner before?” He found it incredible; what man would not want to pleasure his wife in this way, in everyway? But her firm shake of her head confirmed his suspicion.
“Good.” Intense satisfaction and possessive male intent was evident in his voice and hot in his eyes, and for a moment his hand cupped her possessively, sending arrows of sensation shooting through her heated flesh. “I will kiss you, in this way and any other way you desire. But not right now.”
“Promise?” Her voice was little more than a breathless whisper of anticipation.
“Promise.”
Angelina started to say something but she promptly forgot it when Ardeth propped himself over her on his elbows, the muscles of his biceps and shoulders flexing as he took the weight. Her heart jumped wildly, banging against her ribs. The velvety head of his shaft nudged at her soft folds, sliding over the slick, yearning flesh, seeking the entrance to her body. He found it, and the muscles of his hips bunched as he drove forward, pushing inside her. Angelina’s eyes widened, and her fingers dug hard into his shoulder muscles as she cried out, ambushed by the burning pressure between her legs that boarded on real pain as he slowly, inexorably, drove himself deeper into her tight body.
It wasn’t easy, despite her arousal, despite the dampness that readied her for him, and Ardeth grunted at the difficulty of penetration, his entire body taut and straining. His entire being was focused on the masculine goal of penetrating her, and he rocked his hips back and forth, slight movements that coaxed her taut inner muscles to relax, allowing the next forward rock to slide him deeper into the hot, wet, incredibly tight clasp of her body.
At last he was in her to the hilt, seated deep, and he groaned at the perfect, hot gloving of her body as she softly pulsed around throbbing shaft, adjusting. He could feel the quivering tension in her body as she moaned and shuddered in his arms, her eyes tightly closed, and he himself shuddered at the reality of the hot gloving of her body around his burgeoning manhood; at the exquisite torture of finally being embedded deeply inside her. Sweat popped on his forehead, breath burned in his lungs and he felt like he might explode, might spill his seed from just this.
Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, he waged a ruthless war with himself, harnessing in the urgent, primal clamor of his body to draw back from her tight sheath, and plunge right back in, time and again; she wasn’t ready for that, not yet, the discomfort he had caused her with his entry still quivering in her muscles. Aware that he would not last for much longer he framed her face with his large hands and began kissing her eyelids, cheeks, ears, lips, all the while crooning to her, using touch and voice to sooth and calm and reassure her. The reward of his efforts was the way she softened about him and beneath him, her breath calming and becoming deeper, the hard pressure of her fingers digging into his shoulder muscles easing.
Angelina reeled under the onslaught of sensation; he was thick, and hot, and so hard that she felt bruised from the inexorable advance of his shaft into her. But there was also fierce, hot delight in the intimate, perfect embrace of their bodies, as he lay immobile deep inside her, strong and powerful, pulsing with life. She felt herself stretching around his thick length, softening, adjusting to his girth, and closing her eyes even tighter, she gasped for breath, her senses reeling with the sensation of being penetrated, filled at last. Ardeth was possessing her, fulfilling her in a way she had never imagined possible, and she welcomed it, reveled in the perfection of it.
He was showering her face and neck with light kisses, his hands stroking down the sides of her body simultaneously soothing and arousing her flesh, and all the while he murmured to her in a low, rugged voice; sweet words, hot words, words that she didn’t have a prayer of translating for he was speaking in his native Arabic, and her brain could barely function, but it was all right – the fierce tenderness of his tone was all she needed. The short hairs of his beard tickled the tops of her breasts and she shivered as much from that than from the warm velvet of his voice washing over her skin. Momentarily subdued by the burning discomfort of his entry, the raw need returned abruptly, overwhelmingly, as the burning discomfort of his entry began to ease and the ease transform into a burning of another kind.
A guttural groan rumbling up from deep within Ardeth’s chest made Angelina open her eyes even as she felt his entire body fairly vibrating with unleashed tension. His skin was flushed and pulled taut across his cheekbones, the tattoos standing in stark relief against the smooth dark caramel of his skin. Tension emanated from him in waves, every muscle of his body taut with lust barely held in check. His eyes were hot and dark as they raked every inch of her naked body visible to him. Then he looked back up at her, eyes glittering with the intensity of his desire, and something else; something she couldn’t quite decipher but that was so utterly hot and male that she couldn’t control the instinctive, heady, automatic response of her body, her breath catching and pulses leaping. Her sheath tightened about his deeply embedded manhood, subtly caressing the thick intruder as she quivered and melted under his gaze. Ardeth stiffened and held himself rigid over her for a tense moment, his muscles trembling as he fought to control himself, still mindful of her comfort. But she saw the terrible need in his eyes and she knew, she knew.
“Take me, Ardeth. I want you. I need you – I need you now.” Her voice was breathless and husky from her own want and need as she gave him leave of the tight, ruthless restrain he had put on himself. His eyes bore into hers even as another guttural groan rumbled up from his chest, and hearing her words was abruptly too much. Heat surged through his entire body in an ungovernable rush, and his hard-won control splintered. A rough sound burst from his throat and he began thrusting with heavy power, slowly, relentlessly driving in and out of her, groaning at the loss each time he pulled from her wet, clinging sheath, growling in pure, lustful pleasure as he pushed back into her; the incredibly tight internal clasp of her body sheathing his hard, throbbing member until he thought he would go insane with the need, with the pleasure, with the way she was responding to his every move as she eagerly took his passion and lust and need, and gifted him tenfold with her own in return, back arching, hips lifting, hot little cries breaking from her lips.
His first thrust had made her catch her breath at the harsh burning sensation. By the second thrust she was panting with the onslaught of desire. By the third thrust she was as mindless as he, clutching at his shoulders and crying out breathlessly; never taking her eyes of his, spellbound by their hot depths. She raised her knees and braced her feet on the bed, eagerly arching, lifting her trembling hips to receive another thrust, the impact shaking her entire body, and she fleetingly marveled that the immense strength of his muscular body could be used so deliciously to countermand her own strength, giving them both such intense pleasure. Every time he plunged into her she felt the hot smooth length of his thick, hot, pulsing shaft slide up and up within her until he was sheathed inside her to the hilt; impossibly deep and hard and hot inside her, searing her sensitive flesh, and she wanted to scream with the incredible, perfect pleasure of it. Each time he withdrew she felt his girth; dragging exquisitely along the nerve-endings in her tight slick sheath, and she clamped down hard on him in frantic pleasure, sobbing at the ever tightening spiral of tension his every move built inside her. She was burning, glowing, strung on a tight wire of such intense need clamoring for release that she hurt with it. Air burning in her lungs, blind to everything but the man whose heavy weight crushed her to the bed and whose hard rod of male flesh moved relentlessly, achingly, blissfully, deep inside her. She raked her blunt nails down his back to cup his laboring buttocks, imploring him with her eyes, scarcely aware that husky, disjointed words of need were falling from her lips.
Ardeth was so close to the edge that he felt the feathery sensation along his spine, but he desperately resisted it. She was close to her culmination, and he wanted – needed – to entice her to that satisfying explosion first; wanted to watch her come apart in his arms, needed to feel it. Shifting his weight to one elbow, he reached down between their bodies to stroke the tightly stretched entrance, her flesh so sensitive that she gasped as the touch jolted through her like lightning. Then he moved his attention to the little sexual nub that was the center of her pleasure, rubbing his fingertip back and forth across it, feeling her instantaneous response.
The fierce, rapidly increasing sensation gave her no mercy, and he gave her no mercy, not even when she bucked under his touch to escape the intensity. It burned her, melted her, and he rode her harder, deeper, thrusting with heavy power. The friction was almost unbearable, but he was touching her deep inside in such a way that she cried out in agonized pleasure, helplessly clinging to him as it grew stronger and stronger. When it finally shattered, she arched wildly against him, her body shuddering as her hips undulated, working herself on his invading shaft. Submerged in the throes of ecstasy, she only dimly heard her own wild cry as she dissolved in a huge explosion of senses, white-hot pleasure flooding her.
Freed from his constrains by her climax, Ardeth surrendered to the hot, wet, silken gloving of her body, the incredibly exquisite joining of their bodies. He pushed his hands underneath her and gripped her buttocks, hard, pistoning back and forth between her wide spread, straining thighs, slamming into her again and again, all thought now gone save for the primal need for release, to possess her, make her his. She was still with him, pacing him, and the rhythmic pulsing of her slick silken clinging sheath on his plunging shaft propelled him to the edge with dizzying speed. He arched over her powerfully, plunging into her again and again; harsh, helpless groans rumbling up from deep within his chest as he shook and pulsed with the nearing ecstasy, convulsively thrusting, slamming into her. He felt himself growing even harder and bigger inside her and then, with a husky shout, he exploded deep within her, flooding her with his seed, claiming her, marking her his.
Mindless with pleasure, groaning under onslaught of rapture almost too sharp to bear, he bucked heavily into her, riding wave after wave of pure sensation, until at last he slowly, heavily sank down on her, trembling and sweating, his heart pounding in his chest against her breast, and his breath catching on occasional small groans at the last small twitches of his climax.
He was so heavy he was crushing her but Angelina didn’t mind; cherishing the closeness, the reality. His head rested on the pillow next to her, his face towards her, eyes closed, and she could feel his warm breath fanning the skin of her neck as their madly pounding hearts quieted to a more normal rhythm. She threaded her fingers through his hair in a tender caress before letting her hand fall limply on the bed; her body so heavy and weak with the surfeit of pleasure still pulsing through it that even that small move required more energy than she could muster. He was still embedded deeply inside her, as loath to separate of their bodies as she was, and lulled by the silence of aftermath, the steady beat of his heart against her breast, she lapsed into a doze, barely aware of when Ardeth finally stirred and carefully separated their bodies. He left the bed for a moment, and came back with a basin of water and a washing cloth, efficiently cleaning them both up before moving to lie beside her, drawing the sheets over both of them. She turned instinctively into his arms, seeking his body heat, and sighed in contentment as she felt his arms close around her. Her head settled into the hollow of his shoulder, and her arm rested on his chest, idly tracing the tattoo over his heart before lapsing back into sleep.
Ardeth was stunned, rocked to his core by the intensity of what had just occurred between them. Women had always come easily to him, and he had no qualms about availing himself of what was freely offered. Sex was a pleasure; sometimes gentle and playful, sometimes raunchy and intense – a persistent appetite, yes, but ultimately easily satisfied. He chose as his lovers experienced, unattached women who had their own lives and interests, and sought no more from him than he was willing to give; they rarely occupied his mind once he left their bed. He’d had a few lengthier affairs, born out of mix of mutual passion, affection, respect and companionship, but even those relationships had been by no means non-exclusive either on his, or the lady’s side. Only one woman had held his interest above others but even so, he had thought that once he had her in his bed, he would be free of the persistent lust that refused to be slaked on the bodies of other women. He had not expected to get emotionally involved, not to this extent.
Nothing he had experienced with other women had prepared him for the emotional upheaval that making love with Angelina had thrown him the middle of. No woman had ever roused his lust as profoundly as she, the need for her both emotional and physical. What he had just shared with her was as powerful and unstoppable as a desert storm, indelibly imprinted in his body as well as his mind; a fire that had left him scorched and already thirsting to feel the flame again. He wanted her in his life, and he wanted to be important to her. For the first time in his life, Ardeth felt possessive over a woman – just the thought of Angelina wanting another man over him tied his gut in knots with jealousy. Although he had not felt that way when she had been married – merely mildly envious of her husband, and he had shrugged it off easily.
Four years ago, when he had first met Angelina, she had been out of his reach as the wife of one of their Cairo based healers. The Medjai were a very open society where sex was concerned compared to surrounding cultures; while matrimony was encouraged, sexual relations between consenting, unattached adults mostly went uncommented as long as discretion was practiced – but marital bonds were considered sacrosanct, and Ardeth had avoided her as much as he could, striving to be courteous but distant, lest anyone should guess him harboring a secret, forbidden desire for the wife of an another. Yet, time after time he found himself drawn to her circle by circumstance; their lives never and always touching and touched.
But now she no longer was out of his reach; and he knew he wanted a very involved, very exclusive and very sexual relationship with her – he wanted it with a gut wrenching intensity that left no room for doubt.
Angelina had no idea how much time had lapsed before she became aware of warmth seeping into her limbs, of his hands moving over her flesh with increasing purpose. Suddenly she was wide-awake, not wanting to miss a beat.
Ardeth was looming over her, his skillful hands and mouth teasing her flesh, arousing her. His eyes were warm and inviting as he looked deep into her own eyes; there was more there than just desire in his gaze; something that she couldn’t or wouldn’t define but that made her feel protected and treasured.
His generous mouth curved in a smile that managed to be contented and hungry at the same time, and excitement began to curl inside her. “I believe I have a promise to keep, yes?”
She couldn’t keep her lips from curving in an utterly feminine smile. Feeling already giddy with anticipation, she looped her arms around his neck and, pulling him down to her, she spoke against his lips, the words low and husky with promise.
“Oh yes… and I have one of my own to keep, too.”
~ FINIS ~
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