Page 74 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
And she had it.
“Nora,” he gasped. “It’s like the desert made you for this. For me.”
Her laugh cracked into a moan. “Maybe it did.”
And she meant it.
Because with him—with this ancient, impossible man who was more land than flesh—she felt like she’d finally found a place she belonged.
He pulled back just a little, then pushed in again.
Hard.
She screamed.
The sound echoed. The earth hummed. The air shifted.
Her cunt clamped around him, desperate to keep him in. Her body trembled with the pleasure of it. Sharp, raw, blooming out from her center like a second sun rising in her core.
His pace built, harder, deeper, messier. Like his restraint was gone, and all that remained was need.
The sound of their bodies meeting was wet and rhythmic, raw and sacred. It echoed in the small space around them.
He fucked her harder, faster, deeper as her body took him. All of him.
She was close. So close it hurt.
Her thighs shook. Her breath hitched. Her whole body arched like the desert beneath her had turned inside out.
Then—
He dropped his mouth to her neck.
Found the curve of her shoulder.
“Let me make it real,” he growled, reverent and raw. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes—do it.”
His teeth sank in.
Not enough to break skin. Just enough to claim.
Her orgasm hit like a wildfire.
Bright. Blinding. Burning everything she thought she was.
Her skin flared once, like starlight cracking through stone, the light shimmering beneath her skin, casting them both in glow.
She came hard, sobbing his name, her body clenching around him, holding him, demanding.
He followed instantly.
With a growl that shook the floor, he locked his hips against hers and pulsed inside her—hot, endless, holy.
She moaned again, hips still moving with him, her pleasure rising in new aftershocks, like her body didn’t want to stop answering his.
Each surge filled her deeper.
