He was letting himself feel a peace like none other.
His breath hitched with emotion. He reached for her and stroked her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open, then as her sight focused, a slight blush dusted her cheeks.
He leaned in, hungry for her, his cock swelling in readiness.
He cupped her breast, then tweaked her tightening nipple, loving her gentle moans.
Fokk, why had he waited so long to witness her raw passion for him, to savor her, and love on her?
She smiled, her eyes soft.
‘Good morning,Šarim.’
He captured her lips in a tender kiss, savoring her softness.
‘I’m sorry,’ he rasped.
‘For what?’ she murmured.
‘For being closed off, in my head. I needed to get my head around Shiloh and Zolan.’
Saba pulled back to study him. ‘So have you? Got over them?’
He jerked his chin and smirked. ‘Only because of my desire for you.’
She tilted her head. ‘Is that right?’ she said in a husky whisper that sent shivers down Mak’s spine.
‘Let me be the judge of that,’ she added.
She moved in and trailed her hand down his chest to his thick, throbbing length.
When she squeezed his cock, he gasped.
Her lips followed, trailing lower, and he shifted to his back as she took him into her mouth.
She shook as she engulfed him, her skilled tongue swirling around his shaft, scorching him even more.
The sensation of her warm, wetness enveloping him was mind-blowing, and he gripped the sheets, his limbs trembling.
Her gaze never left mine, and he glanced down at the hunger and desire burning in her eyes, mirroring his own.
Best wake-up ever, he thought, even as he flung his head back and groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.
Saba hummed against his cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body. He thrust deeper into her mouth, each stroke and lick bringing him closer to the edge.
With no warning, she lifted off.
‘Baby,’ he growled in protest. ‘I was enjoying that.’
‘You’re about to enjoy a hell of a lot more pleasure - and pain.’
His breath hitched at her insinuation.
With a smile, she moved off the bed and, naked, tracked to his display case. With a naughty smirk, she picked a silver sythyra rope and wound it around her fist.
She brought it back and bent over me. ‘Don’t move.’
