Page 23 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
Nora knelt naked in the sand. She wasn’t cold or afraid. The sky above was a black ocean, trembling with stars.
He stepped toward her, soundless, and the world stilled. The stars dimmed. The air grew heavier. The space between them collapsed.
He stopped in front of her, close enough to cast heat.
She should have risen. Run. Spoken.
But she couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
Every atom in her body thrummed.
He crouched with fluid grace, one massive hand hovering just above her skin. His fingers were thick and ridged.
His fingertips grazed her collarbone. The side of her torso. The curve of her hip. A path like he was retracing something once lost. A map only he remembered.
Her breath caught, chest tightening. Her nipples peaked, achingly stiff, as goosebumps bloomed across her skin like desert flowers after a storm. The heat inside her coiled tight, ancient, wild.
She arched instinctively. Her thighs pressed together.
He circled her, slow and soundless. A force more than a man.
And then he was behind her, solid heat pressed against her back. Immense. Aroused. She gasped, the bulk of him staggering in its size and density. But she didn’t pull away.
His hands slid down her arms, her ribs, settling at her hips. He pulled her up to him as she leaned back into his heat. He bent low, lips ghosting just below her jaw.
The breath he released onto her throat made her knees falter.
One arm wrapped around her middle, anchoring her against the wall of his chest. The other drifted lower.
When his fingers parted her thighs, she didn’t protest. Didn’t breathe.
She only opened.
A single finger slid through her already slick heat.
She moaned, full-throated and raw, her head falling back against his shoulder. Her clit throbbed as he circled her, slow, purposeful. Each pass drew a fresh pulse of molten ache from her core, wet heat blooming beneath his touch.
Her hips rocked in time with him, seeking pressure. Rhythm. Relief.
His other hand moved to her chest, cupping one breast, thumb dragging over her peaked nipple until she cried out.
Her thighs shook. Her breath fractured.
His fingers dipped lower, two now. Long, thick, impossibly rough and smooth at the same time, slipping inside her in one fluid stroke.
She gasped, clenching around them, body spasming.
Her cunt welcomed the stretch. The shape of him. Her hips jerked, need sharpening into something primal.
The sound of her breath came loud now, panting, soft cries caught between pleasure and overwhelm.
He curled his fingers.
She shattered.
Her body pitched forward, but his arm held her fast. His pace didn’t falter. He fucked her with his fingers, deep and sure, each thrust pulling her higher.
