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Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.

Postcards From… Collection - Maisey Yates


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breath was hot on her face and Anna’s tongue darted to wet her lips. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’

      ‘So it would seem.’ He moved fractionally closer until their bodies were touching. Heat roared between them, the unmistakable stirring beneath Zahir’s trousers making Anna tremble violently. ‘But what does that tell me? That you don’t think that I’m a monster? Or that right now you don’t care?’

      ‘I’m not frightened of you, Zahir, if that’s what you mean.’

      ‘Hmm. And yet you are shaking. Why is that, Annalina?’

      ‘I d-don’t know.’

      ‘Maybe it’s that you crave the beast in me.’ He moved closer still, pressing the length of his body against her, all heat and flexed muscle, hard bones beneath tautly drawn flesh. And raw, potent, sexual energy.

      ‘And if I do?’

      ‘Then perhaps it is my duty to satisfy that craving.’

      Finally his lips came down to claim hers with a punishing kiss that sucked the air from her lungs, pumped the blood wildly around her body. He plundered her mouth, his tongue seeking and taking, his breath feverishly hot as he panted into her. It was a kiss that left Anna reeling from its force, melting beneath its pressure. She gasped as he finally pulled away, feeling her lips engorging with blood before he was kissing her again, moving his hands to span the small of her back, pressing her firmly against his erection. Complete abandonment washed over her as the most gloriously erotic feeling took over, obliterating all thought. Other than that Zahir had to make love to her. Now.

      When their lips finally pulled apart she worked her hands around his waist to the strip of bare skin between his shirt and the low-slung pants, feeling him buck satisfyingly beneath her touch. Easily sliding her hands beneath the waistband, she slipped them lower, letting out a guttural gasp of longing when she realised he was naked underneath. Her fingertips skittered over the bare skin of his buttocks, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them, the muscles clenching tightly beneath her touch. He felt so good, so gloriously hard, tight and male that Anna realised she was panting with excitement, her breath coming in short gasps.

      Sliding her hands down further, she traced the underside of his buttocks and when she firmly cupped both cheeks in her hands, squeezing them tightly with a strength born of pure need, she was rewarded with a sharp hiss of breath and a bucking movement that thrust the shape of his mighty erection against her stomach.

      Anna let out a low moan. Reaching up on tiptoe, she tried to make herself as tall as possible so she could feel his erection where she so desperately wanted it—against her groin. But Zahir went one better, lifting her off her feet as if she were weightless, one ankle boot dropping to the ground with a thud. Wrapping her legs around his waist, the glorious feel of him was now pressing against her sex and she closed her eyes against the thrill as she clung dizzily to him, her arms around his neck, feeling him turn and move towards his bedroom.

      She opened them again as he set her down, wobbling unsteadily on her feet as she watched him tear his shirt over his head, his breathing heavy with need. It was dark in this cave-like room, the shutters closed against the night, the bed no more than a low shape on the floor. Stripped to the waist, Zahir brought Anna towards him again, sweeping her hair over one shoulder, nuzzling her neck with his lips as his hands slid the zipper of her dress down her back.

      ‘You want this, Anna?’

      It was the same question he had asked her in the log cabin before it had all gone horribly wrong. But she wasn’t going to mess it up this time. Want was too small a word to describe the fervour she felt for Zahir right now. It was an overpowering, all-consuming madness. Something she couldn’t bring herself to examine. For now, a simple yes would have to suffice.

      She groaned the word hotly against his shoulder as he tugged at her dress and it fell to the ground. Now he was undoing the clasp of her bra, releasing her breasts until they were caught, heavy and aching with need, by his caressing palms, his thumb stroking over nipples that had shrivelled into hard peaks. Anna’s hands strayed down to his loose-fitting trousers again, tugging at them until they were low over his hips, finally falling to the ground. He was naked, the force of his erection escaping at last, throbbing between them.

      ‘Say it again, Annalina.’ He ground out the words, one hand reaching for her panties, pulling them down her legs, taking the remaining boot with them.

      ‘I want you.’

      With a guttural growl he swept her off her feet again, laying her down on the bed and positioning himself over her, his eyes shining like jet in the darkness as they raked over her face. With his jaw held fast, the sharp angles of his cheeks hollowed and shadowed, he looked magnificent. And he looked like a man on the edge.

      ‘You’re going to have to control me, Annalina.’ He lowered his body until it was held fractionally above her by the flexed columns of his arms, his mouth just a centimetre from her own. ‘Take me at the speed you are comfortable with.’

      Anna gulped. She had totally lost control of herself—what hope did she have of controlling him? And ‘comfortable’ was not a word she was interested in. She wanted mind-blowing, all-consuming sex. Speech had all but deserted her but she did manage to drag up something that she suddenly knew to be true.

      ‘I trust you, Zahir.’

      This produced a stab of surprise that had his eyes widen then narrow again. Zahir hesitated, as if about to say something, then he changed his mind, moving his hand between her legs instead, pushing her thighs apart so that he could slide his fingers inside her.

      Anna shuddered with pleasure at his touch, his fingers working to intensify her arousal, increase the wetness that slicked her core. As her whole body began to shake, she reached behind his back to steady herself, to stop him from moving away, her hands desperately gripping on to him. Her legs splayed wider, her back arching into his touch.

      ‘God, Annalina. You have no idea what you do to me.’ He growled deeply before he took her mouth again, his tongue licking and tasting at the same speed as his finger stroked and rubbed. ‘You need to say now if you want this to stop.’

      ‘Don’t stop, Zahir. Do it—make love to me.’

      ‘Uh-uh.’ With another thickly uttered growl, Zahir withdrew his hand and, reaching for Anna’s, guided it to his member, curling her fist around the silky, heated girth of him. ‘You are in control, Anna. Remember that. Whatever happens now is down to you.’

      Oh, dear Lord. Anna wasn’t prepared for this. She had fantasised about this moment for so long, yearned, craved and ached for it almost since the first moment she had clapped eyes on Zahir. But she had stressed about it too, agonised over what might happen, the dreadful accusation that had been implanted in her mind by Henrik refusing to be totally banished. But in every imagined scenario it had been Zahir taking command, taking her any way he wanted to, dominating her the way he had when they’d been in the cabin. Not that that hadn’t been indescribably, erotically mind-blowing. But it had held an element of fear too.

      This was different. As she started to slide her hand up and down the thick length of him, felt him shudder beneath her touch, any traces of fear subsided. He was big, so astonishingly, eye-wateringly enormous, but she wasn’t scared. Just mindlessly high with exhilaration, as if he was a drug she could never get enough of.

      And she knew she was ready for him, ready in mind and body.

      Shifting her bottom, she spread her legs wider, positioning the head of his shaft exactly where she wanted it. Zahir froze, not moving, not even breathing, his whole body rigid with unspoken, unleashed power. She started to make small, circling movements with him, pressing him against her most sensitive spot, small mews escaping her lips. She was so wet now, so aroused. She paused, seeking his eyes, eyes that were black with desire, as drugged and drowning as her own.

      ‘Now, Zahir.’ She whispered the command hoarsely.

      He didn’t need telling twice. With his arms braced on either side of her head,


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