She screamed his name, body and mind unraveling at the unbearable expansion, the excruciating pleasure.

She melted into him, felt the world receding with only him left in existence. Along with one thought.

She’d had him. She’d been his.

Tomorrow, when she lost him, nothing could erase the experience from her body and soul.

Gwen had returned to her bedroom in the guest apartment as soon as Fareed had left her in bed. She’d hoped he’d stay away all day until she’d made her escape.

He hadn’t stayed away an hour.

He’d just entered the bedroom, was walking to her in strides laden with urgency, something fierce blasting off him.

Before she could say anything, he hauled her into his arms and drowned her in the deepest kiss he’d claimed yet.

She felt his turmoil collide with hers, until she couldn’t bear it, think of nothing but easing him.

She tugged at his hair gently, bringing his head up. And what she saw in his eyes almost brought tears to hers.

She’d seen this in his eyes off and on since they’d come here. This despair. Every time, being with her and Ryan had managed to erase the darkness that seemed to grip him heart and soul.

She’d never asked about the reason behind his anguish. Not only because she didn’t feel she had the right to, but also because she thought she knew the answer. But what if she was wrong and there was some other reason? Something she could help with, at least by lending a sympathetic ear and heart?

“What is it, Fareed?”

He pulled her back, hugged her tighter, pressing her head to his chest, which heaved on a shuddering exhalation.

He spoke. And she wished she hadn’t asked. For he told her, in mutilating detail, about his dead brother and the depth of futility and frustration he’d been suffering in his ongoing, fruitless quest to find his family.

“Then, a week after you came here, Emad found a lead that looked the most promising we’ve had yet. He’s just told me it turned out to be another false hope.”

Even had she had anything to say, the pain clamping her throat would have made it impossible to speak.

This was all her fault. And no fault of her own. She wished she could tell him to stop looking, to have mercy on himself, that he had nothing to blame himself for, had already done more than anyone would have dreamed. But she couldn’t.

She could only leave and pray that in time, he’d end his search, come to terms with his failure, so that it would stop tearing at him.

Now all she could hope was that he’d go away again, give her a chance to leave without further heartache.

Before she pushed away, his hands were all over her, over himself, ridding them of their clothes. She knew the moment her flesh touched his, all would be lost. She had to act now.

She struggled out of his arms, hating herself and the whole world for having to say this, now of all times.

“I’m leaving Jizaan today.”

He froze in mid-motion as he’d reached back for her, stared at her for a long, long moment.

Then his lips spread. In another moment a chuckle escaped him and intensified until he was laughing outright.

He at last wiped a tear of mirth. “Ah, Gwen, I needed that.” He caught her back to him. “I love it when you let your wicked humor show, loved it when you teased me in bed. Teasing me out of it—if not for long—is even better.”

He thought she was joking! And who could blame him, after the nightlong marathon of passion and abandonment?

He pulled her back into his arms and she gasped, “I’m serious, Fareed.”

That made him loosen his arms enough so he could pull back, look at her, the humor in his eyes wavering.

She tried to maximize on her advantage, injected her expression and voice with all the firmness and finality she could muster. “With your follow-up of Ryan over, there’s no reason to stay in Jizaan anymore. In fact, we should have left long before now. We’ve taken advantage of your generosity for far too long.”

Devilry and desire ignited his eyes. “If last night has been your taking advantage of my…generosity, as you can feel—” he pulled her back against his hard length, his arousal living steel pressing into her abdomen “—I am in dire need for your exploitation to continue.”

“What happened between us doesn’t change a thing.”

“Not a thing, no. Everything.”

She tried to turn her face away. “No! Nothing has changed or will ever change. We have to leave, Fareed. Please, don’t make this hard. I have to—”

“I have to, too.” He latched his lips on the frantic pulse in her neck, suckled her until she felt her heart pouring its beats and love into him. “I have to take you again, Gwen. I have to pleasure you again and again.”

Then as she struggled to hold on to her sanity and resolve, he defeated her, practiced every spell of seduction on her viciously awakened body and starving heart.

She found herself naked, delirious with arousal and pleasure, straddling his powerful hips, her palms anchored on his chest as he dug his hands in her buttocks.

He held her by them, had her riding up and down his shaft, showing her the exact force and speed and angle to drive them both beyond insanity, egging her on.

“Ride me, Gwen, ride me.”

Lost, mad, she obeyed him, rising and falling in a fever, milking his potency with her inner muscles, mines of pleasure detonating in her every cell.

It built and built. She rode and rode, faster, harder, her hands bunching in his muscles, her eyes feverish on his, her mouth open on harsh inhalations vented in frenzied cries.

When it became too much, she wailed, “Fareed!”

“Aih ya galbi, take your pleasure all over me. Take it.” He crashed her down on him, forged to her womb.

She imploded around him for long, still moments, shaking uncontrollably as the tidal wave hovered. Then it crashed, splintered and reformed her around him, over and over.

He took over when she lost her rhythm, a convulsing mess of sensation, changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting a bundle of nerves that triggered a fiercer explosion. It wracked her, drained her to her last nerve ending.

Yet she needed more, him, joining her in ecstasy, begged for it.

This time when the world vanished and nothing but him remained, around her, inside her, she promised herself.

This would be the last time.

Or maybe another time when next they woke up. Or maybe just one more day. Yes, one more day wouldn’t hurt.

But after that, there would be no more. Never again…

Nine

Fareed gazed down on Gwen and thought this was what sunlight would be like made flesh, made woman.

Her hair gleamed and her skin glowed in the flickering light of a dozen oil lamps. He’d placed them around this bedroom with only her in mind. This bedroom that wasn’t his.

After all the time he’d fantasized about having her in his bed, he’d picked her up that first night, and his feet had taken him here. A guest suite that had never been used before. He’d wanted them to have a place all their own, a place he hadn’t been before, where all the memories would be of her, of them.

He leaned over her, his heart in a constant state of expansion. Her lips, slightly parted in sleep, were crimson and swollen from his possession. Just their sight scorched him with the memories of the past days. He bent and took them, unable to have enough. She moaned, opening for him, her tongue first accepting the caress of his own, then dueling with it, in that never-ending quest for tasting, taking, surrendering. Even in the depth of sleep, she couldn’t have enough either.

He’d lost track of how many times he’d possessed her, how many times she’d claimed him back.