Page 100 of Deadly Betrayal
Beneath her thigh, his long, thick erectionwas as hard as stone. His hips pushed up, grinding against her leg.Little sounds, moans, vibrated from his chest and into her mouth.These were not the hurried, almost angry grunts Faroukh had made ashe’d pushed into her. No. Each one was a veritable masterpiece thatsent her soaring with delight. Nature took over, and for once inher life, she let it. Let her hips pump against his side in aninstinctive rhythm. Her back arched, changing the angle.
An exquisite, almost painful pressure, coiledin her belly. Her arms grew tense, her legs quivered. “Oh!” Shereleased his mouth and rested her forehead against his. “What’s…happening?” Her question was broken by her need for air.
Kaden’s warm hand pushed on her bottom,increasing the pressure, increasing the pleasure. Everything insideher was wound so tightly, she wanted to scream.
“Relax,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Letyourself go. I’ve got you.”
And she did.
Her mouth once again found his. The tug ofhis teeth on her bottom lip set off an explosion of sensation thatrippled from her lip to that spot between her legs, so intimatelyconnected to his hip. She cried out as her body contracted andspasmed, taking her into the darkness of the night as, one by one,the stars shattered behind her closed lids.
Bewildered, she collapsed against him,gasping for air. Her body felt light, at peace for perhaps thefirst time in her life. “Kaden.”
It was all she could manage. Against hercheek, she felt his mouth curve into a smile. “Was this yourfirst…?”
“Yes.” She hid her face, chuckling. “Now Iunderstand what all the fuss is about.”
He laughed too, then groaned.
“Is it your ribs?” she asked, trying towiggle back. Fun was one thing, reinjuring him was another.
“My ribs are fine,” he said through grittedteeth.
He didn’t sound fine. His hand clenched herleg and that’s when she realized he was still hard. Experimentally,she rubbed her leg up, then down. Kaden moaned, his back arching.The tendons on his neck popped out as he strained against her leg.She’d never seen a more beautiful sight. “What can I do?”
Excitement thrummed in her veins despite thelife-altering pleasure she’d just experienced. But it wasexcitement for him. Her entire being was focused on giving him whathe’d given her.
“Touch me,” he murmured.
Lowering her leg, she reached under thewaistband of hisshalwarand fumbled her way into hisshorts. Her fingers quickly found his hard length and closed aroundit—or tried to. The shaft was as large as the rest of him. His heatalmost burned her palm. “Help me,” she begged. “I don’t know whatto do.”
His hand covered hers and tightened her gripat the base. “Move your hand up to the head.” He sucked in a sharpbreath. “Yeah, like that. Circle it with your palm, then backdown.”
She did as he asked, enjoying the weight ofhim in her hand. When her palm covered the glans, pre-ejaculateleaked from the meatus. The movement of her hand smeared it,turning his flesh smooth and silky. With each pass, his arousalgrew and soon her hand was gliding easily. His heart pounded in hischest, so hard she felt it against hers. And in her ear, his raggedbreathing was a compliment all on its own.
“A little faster,” he ground out. His jaw wasclenched, his head thrown back, showcasing his long neck. He lookedpowerful and vulnerable at once. She was amazed he’d expose himselflike this to her, leave himself at her mercy.
Her hand fisted him, up and down, swirlingover the glans, faster and faster, until he caught her head andbrought her down to his mouth for a passionate, blistering kiss.His body went rigid and his penis pulsed in her hand. Warm jetsshot out, coating her fingers. Swallowing his moans with theirkiss, she continued to stroke him as he took his pleasure.
Quietly, so he would see them before they sawhim, Khalid crept over to the grid that was the sole entrance intothe hole in which Tariq held Azita and the American prisoner. Hispulse raced with joy that he’d finally see her again. Alive.Ducking his head over the grid, he squinted to make out theinterior. Moonlight illuminated two bodies.
The bruised and battered American laystretched out on his back, his chest bare except for some materialKhalid recognized as Azita’s headscarf wrapped around his ribcage.His clothing was in disarray, leaving his genitals exposed.
But worst of all, Azita’s hand held the man’sspent cock, his ejaculate coating her fingers while she gazed up athim, a pleased and satisfied expression on her face.
“Astaghfirullah!”
Unable to believe what he was seeing, Khalidstumbled away from the grid. His knees buckled, and he’d havefallen if the guard hadn’t held him up with a solid grip on theupper arm.
Azita’s head jerked up, and their gazescollided. Her gasp drew the American’s attention. His featurestense, the man struggled to sit up and release the waistband of hisshalwarto cover himself. Khalid thanked Allah for the smallmercy. With one strongly muscled arm, the American drew Azitabehind him.
Ever the hero. Seeing her scramble toput the man between them, Khalid felt an ache in his chest. Hereyes were almost too large for her face, and a palpable fearradiated from her shaking body. He wanted to believe she was afraidof the American, that he’d forced the sexual act upon her, butKhalid knew better. The way her hand clenched the man’s shoulder,the way she’d pushed herself up against his back, said it all. Saidtoo much.
The American’s face revealed nothing—notfear, nor anger, nor surprise. His posture, on the other hand,indicated he was ready to fight. But for what? To escape? Or toprotect Azita?
When the large man moved to stand, the guardpointed a rifle at his chest. “On your knees, prisoner!”
Holding his hands wide, the Americancomplied. He was making himself as large as possible, a shield forthe woman hovering behind him—Khalid’s Azita.
