Turkish Delights 0.50 - 4.00 Series Bundle

by Liz Crowe

  Adem gasped as Caleb released his cock, gripped his hips, and shoved his lube-slicked shaft inside, pressing deep, slow and urgent. His balls tightened, his spine tingled, and the damn tears burned his eyeballs once again. Jesus, he was positively a girl today with all the crying. He grunted and shoved harder, relishing the tight grip of Adem’s body on his.

  “Look,” Adem whispered, turning his head towards the gleaming front of the double Wolff ovens. “Look at us.”

  Caleb turned his head and gripped Adem’s hair once more as he caught a glimpse of them, his cock buried in the other man’s ass. Adem’s hips tilted up to meet his every thrust, his own amazing rod weeping at the tip and pressed up against his stomach. “Oh fuck, yes.” He pulled out, all the way, groaning at the sensation and sight at the same time. Sliding back into Adem’s slick, warm ass then out again, he tightened his grip on the man’s hair, yanking his head back, bringing a sharp edge of pain that he knew the other man loved.

  “Evet! Yes!” Adem’s voice was just a whisper as he slid inside once more, then out, fast and hard this time, his body preparing for a massive, glorious release. They’d forgone condoms a few weeks ago after trading health reports and smiles. “Baby…I’m gonna…I can’t….”

  “Don’t. Hold. Back.” Caleb ground out, both hands on his lover’s slim hips, slamming into his body. Adem’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the counter and shoved back, meeting Caleb’s every thrust. “Grab it.” He muttered. “I want to watch.” He turned his head as Adem took his own cock in hand, pumped it up and down. That did it. His whole body was transported and his yells of pleasure mingled with Adem’s as their bodies shook, trembled, and released together. Caleb’s hips kept pumping. He shivered with the intensity of their connection.

  The smell of Adem’s seed and his own sweat filled his nose as his body slowed and his heart began its gradual retreat back to a normal rhythm. Adem took a long, shuddering breath and Caleb tried to stop the panic rising in his gut. This was fine. Good. He was happy. But something hovered still, making him blink and swallow hard.

  When his lover turned to face him, Caleb was shocked to see tears in his dark green eyes. He held him close, buried his face in the man’s hair, trying to hold off his own emotional reaction. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I know.” Adem pulled away and kissed him, a soft touch, just enough. Then stepped back. “You did it again, you know.”

  Caleb ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts on the day ahead, and how to keep from having that god-awful dream again. He stared at his lover’s face, sensing the unhappiness in the air between them but unable to do anything to stop it.

  “What?” He tried to keep his voice casual. But he already knew the answer. Knew it like he knew his own heart. He watched as Adem swallowed hard and pulled his pants back on.

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s okay. I’ve got a shit ton of calls to make now to try and salvage my restaurant deal in Cannes. Go shower.” Caleb tugged his shorts up, grabbed Adem’s arm before he could turn. He had no intention of letting this fester.

  “Please, you know I’m…oh hell.” He started, but ran out of words. Adem sighed and wrapped his arms around Caleb’s waist, pressing his nose into his neck. “I’m sorry. I know this is stressful for you. Can I help? Are you gonna have to go over there sooner?” Caleb tried to keep from begging him to stay, forever. He knew this was going to be a challenge. Adem had a successful restaurant in Turkey and was trying to open one in Cannes. This was his life. Caleb had no idea how they were going to work around it but the thought of being alone at night made him nauseous in anticipation.

  “Oui. I am. I should make flight arrangements.”

  “I figured.” He tilted Adem’s face up to his and kissed him, long and deep. “It’s fine. I understand.”

  “I don’t want to do this Caleb, but….” His hesitation set off alarm bells in Caleb’s brain. He stepped back from the man who’d made him love again, terrified at what was coming next. “I think we…well, I think you need some time alone. We’ve been together non-stop since we met, and something’s happening to you, and I don’t know if I can help.”

  Caleb grabbed his water, gulping down the liquid in deep pulls, unwilling to admit the man might be right. He set the glass down and stared at Adem. “I don’t want you to go. But I know you have to. I’m fine. Nothing’s ‘happening’ to me other than maybe I’m falling further in love with you.” He tried to walk past Adem into the hall, his natural tendency to avoid scenes taking over.

  Adem gripped his arm as he passed and pressed his lips to Caleb’s ear. “You are crying out for him again, Caleb. In your sleep every single night and when we…when you….” He pressed his lips to Caleb’s cheek. Caleb clenched his eyes shut. Shit. Adem was right. The dream, his hurt and pain, it was all returning, as vivid as it had been two years ago when he lost Tarkan in the bomb blast. He couldn’t go through this again. He was probably deflecting and trying to protect himself from Adem’s love. So he couldn’t lose again.

  “I am not a replacement. Remember?” Adem still clutched his arm, his voice tight, angry. Caleb leaned into the man’s body, then stood, and took a step away.

  “I know. I’m having some kind of fucked up relapse. I don’t know.” Caleb ran a trembling hand down his face.

  Adem stared at him so hard Caleb’s breath whooshed from his body as the emotional potential of the next few moments gripped him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to acknowledge what was about to happen. “Look at me, Caleb, mi amour, my love.” Adem’s voice soothed. He opened his eyes. “I am yours. I love you. I told you that. But….” He let go and stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. “You need some time to process that you can love again. Without guilt or whatever the fuck it is messing with your head and making you yell out a dead man’s name when you are with me, inside me, asleep next to me.” He cupped Caleb’s face briefly, brushed lips across his then smiled, his eyes shining once again with unshed tears. Caleb stood and watched him walk down the hall, dreading the thought of the next weeks or months or whatever it took for him to get past this, knowing Adem was right. It was not fair to him. Caleb had to get his head on straight. Adem must go to France, open his new restaurant, and then they could be reunited. They had to be. Anything else and Caleb would rather die.

  Caleb stared into the rising sun, letting it sear his corneas. God help him he missed Tarkan still, so badly. How would he get past it, ever?

  Chapter Two

  The plane bumped its way into the air as Lale gripped Andreas’s hand tighter. God she hated flying. And these short runs were the worst. But they were in a semi-private jet that Andreas had promised would be less stressful. Yeah, so far, no better. She leaned forward, took in the receding Las Vegas skyline as the jet banked and gave them a view of sunset over the Strip. Andreas put her hand to his lips, but otherwise ignored her in favor of whatever conversation he had started in the airport. She settled back in the soft leather seat and studied him. Phone pressed to his ear obviously pissed off at whomever was on the other end regarding “integrity of the program” and “zero tolerance.” His handsome, olive-skinned face was creased with anger. She sighed, nodded at the sexy chick eyeballing her man while pointing at a bottle of champagne. He ignored the woman, to Lale’s extreme satisfaction.

  She’d spent the last three weeks with Andreas, after meeting him on what was essentially an expensive blind date in Las Vegas, set up by her meddling sister-in-law Elle and brother Emre. The man turned her once self-centered world upside down and inside out, teaching her the value of submission, letting go to another, thinking of something other than herself. But along the way somewhere, made her doubt her own sanity by falling in love with him. And now, they were winging their way to her brother Emre’s home in Los Angles, and Lale was frozen with terror.

  Champagne flute in hand, she sipped and continued to regret agreeing to Andreas’s insistence that they fly to LA to meet her brother’s family. She could have stayed ens
conced in his house in suburban Las Vegas for the rest of her known life, never facing any member of her family again. It had been, in a word, perfect. She put a hand on Andreas’s suit trouser-clad thigh, relished the muscles bunched there, as her face heated up with memory at just what his body had shown hers for the past twenty or so days. He’d promised and delivered on any number of physical and emotional levels. While physically sore from his attentions and revelations about how much fun that playroom could be, her soul was completely sated. Something she’d not felt ever in her life.

  “What the fuck, man, we cannot let this continue! I don’t care what the regents say, I’m firing him. Today.” Andreas’s outburst sliced into her reminiscing like a knife. She frowned at him. He met her gaze. “Hang on a minute.” He touched the mute button and turned to her, his face a turbulent storm, his lovely arresting green eyes troubled. He leaned in to brush her lips with his and whispered. “Go to the back. There’s a private room. In fifteen minutes I want you naked, wet, and ready for me on the couch. Bring the present I gave you.” He nodded the bag at her feet that he’d handed her on the way up the plane’s steps. She smiled as heat flooded every inch of her skin and made the little ball she had pierced into her clit thrum in anticipation.

  The nervous, twitchy excess energy she’d been experiencing since entering the airport dissipated. When he’d promised that he could anticipate her every need and fulfill them if she let him, the man had not been kidding. Once she let go of the compulsion to keep secrets from him, to default into reflexive anger and mistrust because he was a man, her life had opened up in ways she had never imagined. But seriously? Here? Her face must have betrayed her. He could already read her like a book.

  “Since when have I ever kidded you, Lale, hmm?” He tilted her chin up and slanted his mouth over hers. She glanced over his broad shoulder at the raw jealousy in the eyes of the slut pouring champagne. Then returned the kiss in earnest, gripping his thick hair with one hand. He broke their contact with a smile on his gorgeous face that nearly made her cry. How had this happened to her? She lived with the fear every single day of the last twenty that she was dreaming and would wake up to the same old shit with a trip back to Istanbul to boot.

  She fluffed her hair, grabbed the bag, and excused herself. The proprietary hand he kept on her ass the entire time she maneuvered over to the aisle would have, at one time, pissed her off to no end. Now, it made her smile and brought more heat to her already flushed skin. “Don’t open the bag until I get there.” His last command rang in her ears as she walked down the wide aisle.

  “Excuse me.” She had to do it. “See that man over there?” The skanky flight bitch stared at her then over at Andreas whose long legs were stretched out into the aisle as he continued to yell into his phone. “Yeah. That one. Tall, dark…and mine?” The woman frowned at her. “Go near him while I’m gone and you will regret the day you laid eyes on me.” She turned and made her way to the back, to a door marked “PRIVATE: VIPs” and pushed it open allowing herself one glance back at the woman’s open-mouthed stare. Lale knew a predator when she saw one. She winked at the hapless flight attendant then slipped into the room.

  She leaned against the closed door and took in the small yet beautifully appointed space. A leather couch, glass table, full bathroom, and large TV screen took up the majority of the space. A small twinge at how Andreas knew about this place nibbled the back of her brain. But she shook it off. One thing she’d learned so far with him was that all she had to do was ask. He held nothing back about his life. And encouraged the same from her. It was something she still struggled with, but he said he would be patient as long as she never, ever lied to him. If she wasn’t ready to answer something, she had to say that, plain and simple, and he would back off.

  She sighed, set the mysterious small bag on the table just as her phone buzzed. The sight of her brother Emre’s name on an incoming text made her heart pound. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that this would all work out somehow. He, or at least his wife, had sent her on this damn 1Night Stand excursion after all. They couldn’t exactly blame her, or be mad, that she’d fallen head over high heels for the Greek man she’d been matched with.

  Oh Christ. Her knees buckled. She was bringing home a Greek. She’d be disowned. Did she care? Well, yeah, a little. She missed her little niece, Ayla, so much already. She hated the thought of never seeing her again. Elle, her American CEO sister-in-law, could pull all the female power bullshit plays she wanted. This was not going to fly. Not with her very Turkish brother and father.

  The plane lurched. She sat down hard on the floor and ignored the buzzing phone again. She couldn’t face it. Not now. This whole thing was ridiculous really. She was going to march in and introduce Andreas to everyone as her Greek… “Dom” … boyfriend? Her head pounded. She stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water onto her face. For some reason, she was extraordinarily thirsty. She downed two bottles of spring water before glancing at her watch to discover she’d wasted ten of her allotted fifteen minutes of prep time stressing out. She squared her shoulders, picked up the phone, and read her brother’s message.

  Sending Elle to pick you up. Aslan is sick so we won’t bring him to the airport.

  She wiped her forehead as she kicked off her high heels and peeled off her skirt. Okay. Just logistics. Nothing to hint that he knew he was about to get hit with a real doozy. That his only sister was dating a Greek man. Turks and Greeks were among the oldest known enemies. Lale would admit to her own prejudice the second she heard him speak. Her poor grandmother would drop dead at the sight of him. No reason to think otherwise.

  Lale tried not to hyperventilate as she slipped out of her blouse and bra, leaving on the sleek, sexy garter belt she’d bought yesterday as a surprise for Andreas and a treat for herself. At the last minute, she put her shoes back on. Andreas loved her in these shoes. And she loved making him happy. A fairly new goal for her, frankly, one she was thrilled with and terrified by at the same time.

  She sat, leg jiggling nervously, feeling about as far from sexy as one could get in a pair of sky high Jimmy Choos and the most expensive garter belt money could buy from Victoria’s Secret. She stared at the plain brown bag. Reached out to feel it before moving her hand back. It was very likely a toy. The man knew his shit when it came to expert female stimulation, either via the various talented parts of his amazing body or from expensive battery-operated devices.

  As she was simultaneously chilled and burning up with fear, anticipation, and worry the door flew open, and there he stood. Andreas Michos, former NFL star turned University of Nevada Las Vegas Athletic Director, six foot seven and nearly two hundred and ninety pounds of sheer masculinity. She took a breath and her stress melted away at the sight of him. But a frown still creased his lovely, bronzed face. She propped one high heeled shoe on the table, exposing herself to him as he slowly shut the door. Her skin tingled. She thrummed with anticipation. Was this love? Lust? Dependence? All of the above? Lale suddenly did not care as long as he was there, with her, holding her, for the rest of her life. She exhaled as he made his slow way to her, shucking his suit jacket to the floor, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “Lovely. Just lovely.” He muttered as he sat on the table, pulling her foot into his lap, running his large hands up her silk clad leg. Lale stretched her arms up, let his touch work its magic on her nerve endings. When he reached her moist center, he touched the piercing then retreated, back down her leg. “Truly, a sight for sore eyes. You are the most beautiful woman on the planet, my tulip princess, but you know that right?” He crouched in front of her and brought his lips to her pussy, blew on it, flicked the gold ball with this tongue as he gripped her ass. “But I believe I said ‘naked’ earlier, did I not?” Lale opened her eyes and glared at him. His mouth twisted in an ironic grin, his eyes dark with lust.

  “Yes, my darling, you did. So what are you going to do about it, hmm?” She pulled his face to hers, nipped at his irresistible low
er lip, sucked it into her mouth, and pressed her bare breasts against the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. He answered her kiss, lazily, without much effort. Then reached back and with one yank ripped the expensive lace next-to-nothing belt that held up her one hundred percent silk stockings into two pieces before flipping the shoes off and against the near wall of the cramped room.

  “Hey!” She shrieked before he put a hand over her protesting lips. He pressed her back onto the couch, shoved his tongue into her mouth and unzipped his pants with one hand. She felt the extreme heat of his magnificent cock against her, as he loomed over her, propped on his strong arms.

  “Dear God woman, you are going to be the death of me,” he whispered, after releasing her lips and running them down her neck, making her arch up into his strength and wrap her legs around his waist.

  “Huh, funny I was thinking the same damn thing about you. You know, when I introduce you to my brother and he kills me for bringing a Greek into his house—one that’s had his cock inside my…oh, my God!” The sensation of her man entering her body brought pure joy. His girth spread her, his length reached high inside, and he moved his hips with the perfect rhythm, bringing her to edge of orgasm nearly immediately. He pressed in, and her body opened to take him, making her gasp as he bent to her aching nipples sucking them into his mouth, biting down, reminding of the nipple clamp play he’d introduced her to just a couple of days ago. “Oh Andreas….” She sighed and rose to meet his thrusts.

  “My love.” He moaned into her breasts, before capturing her lips once more, kissing her so hard her head spun and her body clenched in pre-climactic bliss. He bent one of her legs against his broad chest, giving him an even deeper, more intense angle. Her entire world coalesced around this man, this huge Greek Dom who promised her the world, in exchange for the small token of her trust. Her skin flushed with heat and light as he stared into her eyes. “I love you, Lale.” His words shocked her, but were somehow perfect at thirty five thousand feet.