She’s still coming as I rise up and frantically pull my breeches off, releasing my cock, which springs up straight and hard. Daari glances up at me, her eyes going wide at the sight of my arousal, my need, my longing. Her lips are trembling as I lower myself back down on her, lining up my glistening cockhead with her opening. I want to drive in hard, drive in deep, all the way deep and beyond. But I hold back and look into her eyes, ask the question with my eyes, make sure she knows the choice is hers, that this is all about her.
She nods, and I smile. The sun comes out from behind a cloud, bathing us in heat, covering us with light. Then I’m inside her, pushing carefully but without hesitation, my cockhead spreading her wide, my shaft opening her fully, the man in me bringing out the woman in her.
Daari’s eyes roll up in her head as her heat envelops me, and I lean in and kiss her lips as I slide all the way deep into her. I hold myself there for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of being joined to her from the inside. I’m so hard and thick my shaft is pushing against every inch of her vagina, and it’s all I can do to not explode already.
Finally she opens her eyes and looks up at me, a trembling smile emerging on her dark red lips. There are tears in her eyes, and she nods again and puts her arms around my neck.
And I start moving inside her, my body buzzing with an arousal so overwhelming it feels like the first time for me too.
It is the first time for me too, I decide as I push deep and flex, the image of Daari destroying the memories of every woman in my past, making me a new man, her man, just hers and hers alone.
Hers for the first time.
Hers for all of time.
9
DAARI
It is the first time, I realize as Desh enters me slowly and carefully, spreading my opening as my body shudders from the climax that’s still rocking me from the inside. By Allah, this is the first time!
The sun beams down on my face as Desh pushes into me with a gentle power, a power that’s driven by understanding, infused with love that I know is real, eternal, forever. And for the first time in forever I feel whole, complete, free. I feel like a woman. I feel like a queen.
I come again as Desh flexes inside me, his thick cock pressing against my inner walls, opening me up so wide my mouth stretches in sympathy. My eyes are shut tight, and I can feel a big smile on my face as I wrap my arms around Desh’s strong neck, wrap my legs around his muscular thighs, give myself to him with everything I have, everything I am.
Who am I now, I wonder as I feel Desh take me deeper, harder, his muscles tightening as his arousal takes over to where I know he’s out of his mind in the most beautiful way. Am I just Daari now? Was Desh right? Am I . . . cured?
I frown as the word “cured” sticks in my mind, and I feel a strange annoyance at the implication that I was sick to begin with. Somewhere inside me I feel her still, feel Queen Diraa still alive, still there, still watching, still waiting . . .
Waiting for what?
The question swirls in my head, but I can’t answer it because just then Desh comes inside me. I scream in surprise as the blast of raw heat fills me so quick I’m overflowing even as Desh roars and pumps more of his load into my depths. I tighten my legs around him as he continues to pump, his heavy balls slapping against my skin as he tenses up and releases again, pouring himself into me like the ocean rolling up on the beach. And now I’m coming again, my own wetness mixing with Desh’s seed, our combined juices flowing out of me, soaking into the warm sand of our wedding bed.
It does feel like we’re married, I think as Desh finally finishes, arching his glistening body up as he releases the last of himself into me. He collapses on me, pressing his full weight down on my body like a blanket, showering me with kisses as he pants and gasps against my neck.
We lie in silence together, nothing but the sound of the surf washing up on the beach, the smell of the clean salt in the air, the warmth of the sun on our skin. I want to say something, but I don’t know what to say. There’s too much to say. So much that I can’t say anything at all.
Is this it, I wonder as I search myself for that other woman. Is that all it took to put me back together again? Am I sane and solid now? Was Desh right? Did the Queen bring us together and then bid me farewell?
I look up at Desh, frowning when I see his bruised lip. I did that, I remember. Actually Queen Diraa did that, since I don’t remember doing it. Why?
“Why?” I say out loud as I feel a chill go through me, cutting through the beautiful warmth of Desh’s body on top of me, his seed inside me.
“Why what?” he grunts, his voice thick with the afterglow of how hard he exploded in me.
“Why did Queen Diraa hit you in the face?”
“Oh, right,” he says, rolling off me and grunting again. “You don’t remember. Well, you tried to kill your emissary for failing you, and when I stopped you—”
“Wait, what? I tried to kill someone?” I say, the blood draining from my face as I look at Desh to see if he’s being serious.
“Not you,” Desh says gently. “Queen Diraa.”
“Right. Yes,” I say, my head starting to hurt again as I’m forced to think about it. “That’s what I mean: Why? Why would Queen Diraa do that?”
“She seemed angry,” Desh says. “She said something about him failing her, and that failure is punishable by death under her rule.”
“Her rule?” I say, propping myself up on my elbow as I feel something move inside me, something cold but confident. “But Queen Diraa wasn’t really a Queen. She had the formal title because she was married to my father. But she doesn’t get the throne once he passed. I mean, not really. You know what I mean.”
“What difference does it make, Princess? She’s gone now. She’s fulfilled her purpose, and now this is about us. Come here, Princess.”
“No, wait,” I say, sitting up all the way and pulling my wet robes around me. I glance down at my crossed legs, gasping when I see Desh’s thick white semen coating my dark pubic curls. Quickly I cover myself as I suddenly feel cold—cold from the inside. “Desh, is it possible . . . could it be that . . . that it wasn’t Queen Diraa who tried to kill the messenger, that it was . . . was . . .”
But then I can’t speak, and it’s like someone has grabbed me by the throat from the inside. I know what it is, who it is. And in a flash of insight I understand why it is. It takes all my willpower, but I manage to finish my thought in words.
“Is it possible that . . .” I whisper, stammering as I feel something rising up in triumph inside me, rising up like the head of a cobra, a part of me that was hidden deep in the background, but somehow also in the foreground, a part of me that isn’t Diraa, isn’t Daari, doesn’t have a name. I frown as I feel it spread through me from the inside, and my eyes roll up in my head when I realize that no, this isn’t the protective stepmother! This is a third part of me, a splintered part of Diraa herself, a part that was born to deal with the harsh reality that perhaps even Diraa couldn’t face alone! Queen Diraa was created out of compassion and the need to protect the child in me, but this third part of me was born of anger and hatred, born to deal with the horror that was my life for the past ten years. A part of me that lives alone, believes she’s alone, will always be alone. A part of me that will never trust a man, never love a man, will use a man for what she needs and then coldly discard him.
And what does a woman need from a man?
“Ya Allah,” I groan as I feel Desh’s seed inside me, feel this darkest part of me revel in the feeling like she’s gotten what she needs from him, that she no longer needs him, no longer needs anyone because she’s never had anyone! My vision is flickering like the lights are going out, but although I’m past the edge of insanity, about to lose the wild battle in my psyche, I find it in me to gasp and speak.
“Desh, you . . . you’re in danger. Desh, you need to get out of
here! Get out of here before she . . . before I . . . before we . . .”
But then I’m lost, and the last thing I hear before everything goes dark is my own voice, cold and hard, brutal and unfeeling.
“Kill them all,” I hear myself shout. “Every last man. Kill them all.”
10
DESH
“Kill them all!” she whispers, her eyes rolling up in her head as she convulses in my arms like she’s having a seizure. I’m not sure what the hell is happening, but it isn’t good.
“No, this isn’t good,” I mutter, blinking when Daari finally goes still in my arms, her eyes flicking open and holding steady. I know immediately that the woman I’m looking at isn’t the Princess. It isn’t the Queen. It’s someone else. Someone without a name. Someone dark. Dangerous. Deadly.
But still mine.
Still mine.
I look up wildly to see if her bodyguards have heard her orders, but Daari had sent them back to her ship, which is anchored off the main beach. My own ship is docked at the single jetty I had built years ago in the small inlet of deep water, and immediately I know that it’s time to set sail once again. Whatever needs to happen can’t happen here. I need to be out on the wild sea once more. I need space. I need time.
“Hold on, Daari,” I whisper, loosening my grip on her arms as I squint into the distance in the hope that one of my men is close enough to hear my command to board and cast off. I see my First Mate in the distance, and I straighten up and prepare to call out to him, bringing my hands up to my mouth and cupping them around my lips so I can get the megaphone effect.
But I have to let go of Daari to do it, and when I see the flash of movement I know it’s a mistake.
“Fuck!” I roar as she grabs a massive conch shell from the beach and swings it like a club, getting me square on the side of the head and sending me reeling. And then she’s up and running, pulling her black robes around her as she races across the sand, shouting to her attendants to start shooting!
Now it’s a goddamn free-for-all, and I force myself up to my feet even as the blood streams down the side of my face. I’m naked like a goddamn animal, but my breeches are far away by now because I’m speeding across the sand in my bare feet, my long, powerful strides easily catching up with Daari. A moment later I’ve got her by the waist, and without breaking stride I hoist her up over my shoulder in a fireman’s-carry, heading straight for my jetty, confident that my men don’t need me to tell them that it’s time to set sail.
Bullets pepper the sand around my feet, but I can tell the bodyguards are being careful not to hit the Princess. Soon we’re on my ship, and I glance at my First Mate, who nods at me to say that all the crew is accounted for and we’re anchors-up, off and away.
“Anyone hurt?” I ask grimly as we pull away from the Princess’s ship. We’re the faster vessel, and they won’t catch up with us.
“Nothing serious,” my First Mate grunts, his eyes narrowed as he heads to the wheelhouse to steer. I can see that he’s at the end of his rope, the edge of his patience, the final strand of the trust I’ve earned with him and my men over the years. I don’t blame my men. It must look like their Captain is risking all their lives for the sake of his own goddamn cock!
I nod and turn away, grunting as the Princess kicks out with her legs, hammers at my back with her fists. But the way I’m holding her makes it so she can’t hit me where it hurts, and a moment later I’m below decks and striding towards the Captain’s Quarters, to my royal chambers.
In the back of my mind I know there isn’t much time. Certainly the Princess’s captain has radioed in to anyone listening that we need to be stopped and boarded with extreme prejudice. We’re far enough from the coast of Greece that it’ll take a while for any aircraft to get to us, but certainly some of the islands have some fast Coast Guard ships that can give us a run for it, perhaps even run us down. If that happens, we’ll have to surrender. No way my ship can withstand those cannons!
“You should surrender while you have the chance,” snarls Daari from across my shoulder, her nails digging into my bare back as I enter my chambers and stare at the solid Captain’s bed sitting atop a platform of balsam wood. “I will promise you and your men a quick death.”
“A tempting offer, Princess,” I snarl, my head spinning as I blink away the blood pouring from the cut on my forehead. My goddamn lip is still throbbing from the shot she gave me to the face, and I can now feel trickles of blood rolling down my back from her fucking fingernails! Why did I think this was a sweet, innocent, helpless little girl?! She’s done more fucking damage to me in one day than villains have managed to do in thirty goddamn years!
“I’m not a fucking Princess!” she snarls as I toss her onto the bed. She immediately turns and leaps at me like a cat, but I grab her and toss her back onto the stiff mattress. She screams as she tumbles and turns, her robe flying open, her legs kicking out. I catch a glimpse of her ass and boobs as she gets on all fours and tries to attack me again, and I can feel my cock rising to full mast as I grab her and flip her down onto the mattress one more time.
I’m losing control and I can fucking feel it. There’s a part of me that says this woman needs tenderness right now, needs to understand that a man can be gentle, that a man can be loving, that a man can be trusted. But there’s another part of me that’s whispering that no, this isn’t what this wild beast of a woman needs from me. Yes, she needs to understand that a man can be trusted. But there are many ways to prove trust, are there not? The sweet Princess Daari needed me to be gentle, to be tender, to carefully take her like it’s the first time. It was what she needed, when she needed it. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t everything she needed. It wasn’t what every part of her needed.
Daari leaps at me again, and this time I grab her by the hair and yank her head back, tightening my body as she pummels my rock-hard chest and abs. I press myself hard against her so she can’t knee me in the goddamn balls, and I just look into her eyes, look into her darkness, look into this part of her.
And then I know what I need to do.
I need to accept this part of her.
I need to claim this part of her.
I need to love this part of her.
“I was wrong,” I whisper, licking my lips as I welcome the pain, feel it awakening the animal in me, the deepest, oldest, darkest part of my masculine energy. “There is no cure for you, Princess. There is no magical fix for your madness. There’s just acceptance of it. Ownership of it. Love for it. Yes, love for it, Daari. Love for you. For all of you. Every fucking part of you. The sweet innocence of the Princess. The compassionate strength of the Queen. And the darkness of whatever this is. So you know what? I do surrender to you. I give up. I will not try to change you. I will not try to fix you. I will not try to heal you.” I swallow hard as I look into her eyes, embrace the coldness in them, welcome the darkness in them. “All I’m going to do is accept you. Love you. Just fucking love you. You hear me in there, you crazy Princess, Queen, and whatever else you are?! I love you! All of you! The best of you and the worst of you! Now and forever! I fucking love you!”
I see her expression change, and I know I’m getting through. I feel it in my body. I feel it in her body. I feel it in the air around us. I feel it in the sea below us.
My cock is erect like a goddamn ship’s mast, pressed firmly against her mound as I hold her close to my body. She’s staring into my eyes, her lips moving silently, her eyelids trembling like my words are affecting her in a way she doesn’t understand. I barely understand it either, and I feel my body shudder as I breathe in her scent, fill my lungs with the heavy musk of her feminine, the primal call of her sex.
This woman doesn’t need me to be gentle, comes the thought as I see her eyelids flicker again, a shadow passing behind those eyes. That’s not going to prove that I can be trusted. That’s not what she’s bringing out in me.
She snaps her teeth at me as I stare into her eyes, and I see the animal inside her, sense the challenge in her, feel her asking the question without saying a fucking word:
“You love me? This part of me? Really?” she’s asking with her eyes. “Can you handle this part of me? Can you control this part of me? Can you own this part of me, the part of me that’s all hate, all anger, all dark? Can you? Will you? Do you?”
“I do,” I whisper, grinning through my bloody lips as she snaps her teeth at me again. “And so will you. I surrendered to you, and now it’s time for you to surrender to me. You’re on my ship now, Princess. You’re in my chambers. You’re in my waters. And you’re my woman. You’re my fucking woman!”
She screams as I grab her throat and kiss her hard on the lips, ramming my tongue deep into her mouth, holding her jaw so she can’t bite down. She pounds her fists against my strong back, claws at me with her long fingernails, ripping skin, drawing fresh blood, sending pain through me that only makes me kiss her harder.
I feel her tongue against mine, sense her arousal snaking up along her thrashing body as she tries to fight it but can’t. She can’t fight the woman she is, can’t fight the simple truth that I’m her man and I will accept her for what she is, love her for what she is, take every part of her as mine. Every goddamn part of her.
I yank her away from me, laughing as she spits in my face even though she’s grinning like a madwoman. She leaps at me once again, claws bared, her black robe open, big breasts swinging like pendulums as I grab her by the arms, flip her around, and push her face-down onto the mattress.
Curvy for Him: The Princess and the Pirate Page 5