by Sophia Lynn
“Come back soon,” she said softly, not looking up at him.
He chuckled, a note of surprise in his voice. “And here I thought that you were getting tired of me. Don't worry. I'll get back here as soon as I can, and that is a promise.”
He tilted her chin up for a gentle kiss, and then with the roar of propellers, he was gone.
At first, there was a kind of relief in being on her own. She had spent a great deal of her life solitary, and as much as she had enjoyed his company, it was a little strange to her. She practiced her violin, she made herself some food, she watched some television, but those activities took far less time than she had thought. By the time it was sundown, she was bored and restless, wondering if she should have gone with him after all.
Olivia lay in her bed, playing with her phone before finally giving in to temptation.
Are things going all right?
She was nearly dozing when her phone chirped at her.
Just got out of meetings. It'll be another full day tomorrow, but after that, I'll be back around sundown. Are you all right?
She chuckled a little. She wasn't sure that she had ever had anyone worry after her the way he was doing. On one hand, it was strange, but there was a part of her who reached for it, that seemed to long for it in a way that she couldn't quite understand.
Calm down, of course everything is fine. I didn't even go out on the swing like I was thinking of …
There was a pause.
If you tell me that you got on that swing alone on a goddamn mountain top, I really will tan your hide!
That made her laugh, sending a warm feeling through her.
Relax! I'm reckless, not dumb. All I've done today is play music and watch television. I would have been thrilled for a day like this back when I was busking, but right now … I guess it feels a bit empty.
She paused for a moment.
I miss you, she texted, before she could stop herself. She resisted the urge to throw the phone away. It felt like too much, simply too much to offer to him. Before she could turn off her phone in embarrassment, he responded.
I miss you as well. Tell me something we can do when I see you next. I want something to look forward to in those meetings tomorrow.
She thought for a moment.
Well, I'm looking forward to you making me food, and perhaps you can feed it to me the way that you did before …
She could imagine him laughing, those dark eyes crinkling up with amusement.
Go on. That sounds enticing. And before you think I am being sarcastic, let me tell you that these meetings are awful.
And I wouldn't mind taking another hike with you …
That's promising …
She took a deep breath. Her fingers were trembling, but she knew that if she couldn't type it out for him here that she certainly couldn't say it out loud to him.
And I want you to make love to me.
There was a long pause this time, and she felt her stomach turn over. She wondered if she had overstepped herself. Had she made herself look cheap or foolish? What if he was showing the phone to his companions, laughing at what a needy girl he had waiting for him in his mountain retreat …
Little songbird, nothing would give me more pleasure. But before you do this, I want you to be sure.
This time there was no hesitation.
I am sure, she typed. I am lying in bed right now, and all I can think of is you. I feel like I'm going to go crazy until we meet again. I need you, and I know you want me. I don't want to wait any more.
This time, his pause was even longer.
Darling … think about this. Think about it until I get back to that mountain. If at any point, you think you are unsure, tell me. Because the night I walk off the plane, I will be coming to you, and unless you tell me no, I will not be stopped. Do you understand?
She shivered, thinking about how dark his eyes became when he wanted her and how powerful he was. She couldn't resist him if she tried, but the idea of trying to resist him was not something that she could understand, not now, perhaps not ever. She wanted nothing more than to have him roll her under, taking her as completely as he could.
I understand. I won't change my mind.
Good.
***
The next day seemed to drag like heavy chains behind her. Olivia showered in the morning, and then as night came on, she showered again, simply to have something to do. She played her violin for hours, but nothing seemed to sound quite right. She picked it up and put it down time after time, and finally she had to pull away from it, afraid she would snap a string with her nerves.
Makeen was busy most of the day, but he sent her a few texts. They were terse but comforting things, and she could barely keep still for what was to come. She wasn't sure whether she was making the right decision, but all she knew was that she was making the one she needed like she needed to breathe.
She nearly fell to her knees with relief when she heard the propellers outside. She waited on the couch, dressed in her simple blue dress. Through the window, she could see him talk to the pilot before sending him off.
Olivia stood as the door creaked open, but Makeen came through it like a hurricane. He caught her up in his arms, overwhelming her with kisses, taking her breath away.
“Hello,” he said, finally pulling back a little. There was something strained about him that was easing even as she watched.
“Hi,” she said shyly. “Are you … are you hungry or …”
He stood back and gave her a look of such masculine enjoyment that she blushed.
“I am,” he said huskily, “but I am not in any shape to come to you. I want a shower first, but after that, a battalion couldn't keep me from you.”
She swallowed hard. “Should I …”
“Go to your room,” he said, his voice velvet with command. “Wait for me.”
***
Olivia knew that Makeen was going to come to her that night. Still, when he opened the door to her bedroom, she felt unprepared, as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night. Even as the door creaked open behind her, she didn't turn to look. Instead, Olivia stood with her back to him, facing the enormous window that looked out over the mountains.
In the last light of day, small portions of the mountain were painted red and gold, picked out like points of garnet in the growing darkness. How many women had stood where she was through the ages? How had they greeted their men? With despair and resolve? With hope and innocence? Perhaps some lucky few had even looked forward to their lords' approach with love.
“What are you thinking, little songbird?” he asked, coming to stand behind her. Olivia could feel the heat from his body right through her clothes. It made her want to step back into his embrace, but for now, she held herself apart.
“What the women who came before me thought,” she said softly. “Were they happy? Did they despair? What could they have wanted here, high above the world?”
He made a soft thoughtful sound, and she gave into her temptation. She leaned back against him, and after a moment of surprise, his arms came up around her. He was tall enough that it was easy for him to rest his chin on her head, and together, they looked out into the encroaching night.
“There is no way to know, not really,” he said, “but we have some records—journals, anecdotes. The women who were brought here were all prized. Some of them resented it. Others reveled in it, and they ruled as well or better than their men.”
Am I a link in a chain that goes back hundreds of years? Olivia wondered. What will they say about me when I am gone?
“You look frightened,” he said. “Are you?”
She should have been. There was so much to frighten her. She did not know what would happen in a month. She didn't know what would become of her family. She was trapped on a high mountain peak with a man who had once threatened to destroy the people who were most dear to her.
Olivia shook her head. “I'm not frightened, I'm …”
Ready.<
br />
The word was so bold in her mind that at first she shook it off. However, when she thought of it, she realized that beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was absolutely the right word. She felt the way she did before she brought her bow down to the strings, when the light shone on her, and all the rustling of the audience had fallen into an expectant hush.
It was too much to say. She had been a musician all her life, and words were not always her friends. Instead, in the circle of Makeen's arms, she turned to face him. His face was dark in the dim light, but it was easy enough to reach up and to trace his lips with the pads of her fingers. Instinctively, his soft tongue came out to lap at her sensitive fingers, making Olivia shiver with desire.
“All my life, I thought I knew desire,” she said softly. “I wanted to play my violin, I wanted to perform for an audience of thousands, I wanted to make my living doing what I loved best. This … this is different.”
“How so?”
“I want this more.”
Her words were naked in the darkness. Olivia wasn't sure that she could have said them in the light. They were too different from what she had believed for years, too far from who she used to be to be understood. But, as she was beginning to learn, she was turning into someone new, like warm clay in Makeen's hands, and though a part of her was terrified, more of her wanted it.
She could feel a shiver go through Makeen's body at her soft words. In that moment, Olivia knew that if she had any doubts about what was going to happen tonight, she should stop him. She knew that she could. She could say a word and send him away.
She didn't.
Instead, she trembled as he bent his dark head down to hers, one hand coming up to tangle in her dark hair. He held her still as he kissed her, but there was something restrained about the way he did it. The tenderness and care in his kiss was so powerful that it made a lump form in her throat. No one had ever kissed her like this, so sweetly and tenderly.
There was a red-hot current of passion underneath the tenderness, however, that rose up for both of them. He could feel it the same way that she could, and when she pressed more firmly against him, he groaned.
“I have never felt this for another woman,” he said. “You drive me wild. You make me want things that I should not want …”
In that moment, Olivia had never felt freer. She felt as if she could simply push away from the earth and spin into the sky. The only things that kept her grounded were his arms around her and her complete and consuming need for him.
“Want me,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Want me tonight …”
“Always,” he said, and he kissed her again.
That overwhelming tenderness was still there, but now its dark twin of desire was present as well, rising up and making them cling to each other as if there was nothing else in the world. She could feel herself warming to him with just this tender touch. She could feel his manhood rise up to press against her.
With no warning at all, he lifted her off her feet, carrying her like a bride to the enormous white bed. Makeen laid her down on it, and then his hands went to the buttons at the front of her dress. Instead of unbuttoning her clothes, he took two great fistfuls of fabric in his hands and yanked, the light cloth ripping apart like tissue.
Olivia had not understood how erotic the sensation and sound of tearing fabric could be, nor the sudden feeling of being entirely exposed. Suddenly, in the dim room, she was lying in front of the man she wanted like she wanted to breathe, bare except for her lacy bra and panties.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he whispered, sitting back on his heels to look at her. “Your skin is the softest I have ever felt. You look as if you were made just for me.”
In that moment, Olivia felt as if he were right, as if every part of her was made for Makeen, and that her twenty-four years without him had starved her. Now her body cried for him, and the only thing that kept her sane was that she would not be denied for much longer. Without thinking, she reached for him imploringly, and he was not strong enough to resist that.
He came to rest on top of her, supporting most of his weight on his elbows as he started to kiss her again. When his tongue thrust into her mouth, she sucked on it desperately, aware that it was only a pale imitation of what was going to come afterward. When Makeen pulled back, she moaned with disappointment, but he was only shifting down her body, trailing kisses from her jaw, down her neck to her soft shoulders and beyond.
Makeen lavished kisses and licks on her large breasts, proving them to be far more sensitive than she had ever dreamed. When he brushed the tips of his fingers over the sides, she shivered, the peaks of her nipples going hard. Makeen took first one peak in his mouth and then the other, causing Olivia to buck with surprised arousal.
“I … never thought I liked having my breasts touched like that before,” she whispered in surprise, and his laugh was a low growl.
“If there is something that you do not like, I command you to tell me immediately,” he said with a playful growl, “but until then, little songbird, I only want you to lie down and enjoy it …”
She started to respond, but then any clue about what she was going to say was ripped out of her mind entirely as his wet mouth moved down the soft curve of her belly. With a motion that she could only describe as practiced, he slipped her panties down her long legs, throwing them free before she was even quite aware what he was doing. Olivia cried out when she realized how bare she was in front of him, but she had no time to worry about it as he was spreading her legs to lie down between them.
Experimentally, she bent her legs and ran them along his shoulders, marveling at his strength and the feel of his skin, so different from hers. The differences between them were strangely sensuous to her, how hard he was compared to how soft she was.
She knew what he was planning to do, but Olivia still blushed when Makeen started stroking his fingers along the tangle of dark hair between her legs. The touch was so intimate it made her squirm, but Makeen used his sheer weight to hold her still, making her lie quietly as he touched her. She had thought from the way their passion ignited that they would simply fall on each other like wild beasts, but now he was touching her with a slow deliberation that made her moan with surprise. First he stroked his fingers along her slit until she was nearly frantic with need, and only then did he slide a finger inside her. The pressure sent a bolt of pleasure through her, but it wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough at all.
When he pressed his mouth to the top of her slit, sucking and pulling at the flesh there, her hand fell down to land in his hair, tugging fitfully. No matter what Olivia did, however, he refused to be hurried. Instead, he teased and tantalized her, making her rise up with need time after time only to deny her the trembling climax she knew lay just beyond.
“Please, Makeen!” Olivia cried finally. “Please, please, I can't take this any more …”
He laughed a little hoarsely, and when she looked down at him, his eyes glittered in the dark.
“I could do this all night,” he murmured. “Bring you close time after time until you were begging me …”
“I am begging you now!” she whimpered, tugging ineffectually at his hair. “Please … please, I need you …”
Something about the plaintiveness of her tone convinced him. In a smooth motion, he shifted upward, and now he was reaching into the small table by the bed. She looked up, startled, when a foil package was placed in her hand.
“Put it on me.”
His command vibrated with power and authority, and Olivia swallowed hard as she tore it open. She had worked with her hands all her life, but now she felt as if she was nothing but thumbs. It seemed as if she could not get the latex disc placed properly, and then when she started to roll it down his long, thick shaft, it only pulled and tugged. Finally, it was on, and just as she was looking up to see his reason, he pushed her flat back on the bed.
“This,” he growled. “This is what I have wanted since I laid eyes on you.”
Without any more warning than that, he slid into her with a deep, perfect thrust, joining them so completely that they both moaned. She looked up to see an expression of pure awe on his face before he began thrusting into her deeply, filling her with each thrust before pulling back out to do it again.
Olivia was carried away by sensations. The pleasure that he had been teasing and torturing her with was suddenly free to tear its way through her, and now she gave herself up to it. She twined her legs around his hips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She would do anything, anything to get closer to him and the things that he was making her feel.
“Beautiful little songbird, so perfect, so damnably perfect, and all for me …”
His words dropped into Arabic, murmuring words that sounded both loving and utterly filthy, and that only took her pleasure higher and higher. When he reached down to nip at her sensitive ear lobe, that was what did it. Suddenly, her body started shaking with pleasure, and Olivia tensed up to draw it higher as it broke over her.
She was shouting, her body beyond her control, as she twisted her way to a climax beyond anything she had ever felt. It was as if she was being molded in fire, as if she were flying high on wings of flames. Somewhere beyond the veil of her desire, she could feel Makeen thrusting deeply into her with a final groan. He shuddered over her just as her own pleasure was receding, making her whimper with completion. She clung to him fiercely, in that moment, ready to protect him from all comers. Olivia had never thought that she knew much beyond her violin, but right now, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man was hers. He was the one who would protect her, and he was the one that she knew she had to protect as well. There was nothing else to be done about it.
He collapsed on top of her, his body a heavy weight that gave her a kind of pleasure and contentment of a sort she had never felt before. She stroked his back gently. There was a peace here that she had never known, something sweet and quiet now that the desire had been paid its due.
It seemed like no time at all before Makeen heaved himself off and away from her, kissing her gently before going to the bathroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom. When he came back, he came to lie down next to her, on his side, with his hand draped casually and possessively over her belly.