Lib Novel Page 69
When he placed kisses on her face, the pain further dulled. He stroked her clit with his thumb, and the pain soon dimmed, and then she was moving against him, meeting his thrusts as if her hips had been programmed to know what to do.
“How…are you doing?” she asked, but she was moaning so much, she wasn’t certain he heard.
He kissed the arch of her neck and shoulder, and she tightened her grip around him, one leg locked around his waist. She wanted to sink her fingernails into him, her teeth. She wanted to grip him so tight, he struggled to leave her body. Two words encompassed everything that she felt about him:
I want.
I want.
“Ai, querida.” He shuddered. “I’ve waited for you.”
“You don’t…have to.”
He chuckled. “Not now. I mean, always. I’ve always been waiting, just for you. It would have never been…” He hissed and jerked, like pleasure stabbed him in the midsection. “Oh, querida.” He sucked on her neck, both their bodies saturated with sweat. “My querida. What do I do now? I won’t let you go.”
His hips forced hers into the mattress.
Gripping onto his biceps—because she didn’t know what else to do with an orgasm making its way like a tornado—she squeezed him between her thighs. Then she looked up and found his eyes on hers, his expression undeniable; he was waiting. He wanted to see it. This was why he wanted to see her face, all the while circling her to the heights of pleasure with his thumb.
“Adrían…” Her eyes rolled back. She burst, all but suctioning him inside her body.
For a moment, he moved faster, harder and she forced herself to focus. Forced herself to watch. And those eyes were still on her.
His brow furrowed.
His jaw tightened.
Then he groaned and pushed himself deep inside her, going still except for the spasms and tugs she could feel at where they were joined. This was what former society meant when they’d said a virgin was ruined, but the part they got wrong was that it was related to any session of lovemaking.
Ones like these, where she didn’t want him to leave her body nor could she look away from his face, were the true hallmarks of ruination. Even if someone came after him, she would never place anyone above him.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
When Adrían opened his eyes, it was still dark.
Sayeda breathed softly in his arms, and he wondered whether she slept this soundly when alone. If someone entered her room in the middle of the night, like the person who’d entered this one, a slumber this deep would give her little time to react.
“Are you going to show yourself, or do you like watching people spoon from the shadows?” he asked.
If he was lucky, it was one of the men from earlier. However, the figure that emerged from the darkness looked more Nordic than Moroccan. Lamplight highlighted the man’s golden hair and more muscles than any human needed—the man’s black shirt was probably made from cotton, but it looked more like liquid rubber.
“Trevor,” the man introduced. “Trevor Mason. Has anyone told you anything about me?”
“Everyone,” he said.
“A bit overkill, isn’t it?”
“Is there a reason you’re introducing yourself so late?”
“I like to observe the recruits.” Trevor folded his arms and scanned Sayeda’s shadowy outline. “There were twenty-four to start, and my job was to determine which five worked the best together. Goodness of fit, if you will. By the way, are you two completely naked under there? Because you have an op.”
Adrían, yawning, reluctantly released Sayeda and sat up in the bed. “What’s an ‘op’?”
“An operation. A mission. An assignment. Whatever you want to call it. We should have left about ten minutes ago, but you two looked so precious, I couldn’t bear waking you. Like lovebirds. My mum used to have lovebirds.”
As if Trevor’s words neutralized a magic spell, Sayeda stretched her limbs to their full length. She covered a yawn with one arm and rolled onto her back, and Trevor turned away just as the sheets slid down, uncovering one of her breasts.