It wasn’t enough.

She needed more.

Parting the folds of her pussy she ran her fingers over her heavily juiced slit, moved upwards, circled her clit and ran a trail of pleasure around the bundle of nerves.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

Desperate, muffled breathy cries were stopped in her throat, the sounds almost silent as she caressed her flesh, sliding downward, circling the entrance and dipping shallowly inside.

And once again, it wasn’t enough.

The need was growing worse with each visit Abram made to Virginia, and now, she would never be able to forget the sight of him sharing his lover, or the pleasure that had contorted her face, as well as his.

She wanted it.

She wanted the extreme eroticism she had witnessed between Abram, his lover, and his cousin. She wanted Abram until she felt as though she were burning up inside. Perspiration dotted her body, it felt as though flames were licking over her flesh. Her pussy clenched, her juices spilling to her fingers as she pressed two together, uncaring of the veil of her virginity as she tucked them against the snug entrance.

Wood cracked against wood hard enough to cause her to pull her fingers free of her body and to jerk her upright in shock.

Eyes wide she stared across the room at the vision of pure male outrage, black eyes burning, his hair sensually tousled and laying around his face and shoulders like course midnight.

He moved across the room, stalking, predatory, the loose white pants he wore laying low on his hips, his cock jutting beneath it, thick and long, as he moved to the bed.

Paige stared back at him, her breathing harsh, the need so spike sharp now that fingers of hunger struck at her pussy with daggerlike intensity.

Abram’s jaw clenched as he stopped at the side of the bed.

His fingers tightened, released, tightened again.

“Lie back.” His voice was like an animal’s growl.

“Go to hell,” she tried to snap, but her voice weakened, the anger, pain, and desperation mixing to create a sound between a plea and a hoarse, broken demand.

“I return there soon enough,” he shot back, his voice sharp. “For this moment though, I will touch paradise no matter the curse to my soul for the trespass.”

And before she could move, protest, or whimper an objection he gripped her legs, pulled her down along the bed and within a breath, he was stretching his long, powerful frame between her legs

There was no time to argue, to protest, or to push him away. There was no will to reject whatever touch, whatever pleasure he would give her.

His arms looped around her legs, pulling her thighs apart as his head lowered and his lips buried in her pussy.

“Abram.” Shocked, uncertain, the hard, burning waves of arousal began to pour over her and pleasure struck with fiery bursts through her system.

“Fuck, yes,” he whispered against the sensitive folds.

“Oh God, yes. Lick me!” The words were torn from her lips. “Abram. Abram please, make me come. Just make me come.”

His lips surrounded her clit, sucking it into the liquid heat of his mouth with a firm, almost hard pressure that had her entire sensory system overloading.

Her knees bent, lifting, her heels digging into the mattress as waves of burning sensation began to tear through her. It was a pleasure that bordered pain, pouring through her body with a strength and a speed that she had no hope of depending her heart against.

Abram didn’t ease her into it. He wasn’t gentle and seductive. He wasn’t teasing and tender. It was almost angry, an uncontrolled hunger that imprinted itself on the act with an eroticism that had her fighting for breath. His tongue flicking at the tiny bud, his mouth sucking it, wet heat and shocking, sharp pleasure tearing through the ultrasensitive bud until the rapture of it ripped through her with an explosion of such ecstatic pleasure Paige was certain somehow, she was lost. A part of her was no longer hers alone. A part of her now belonged to Abram, and that wouldn’t be a good thing, because that part of her would now never be content with another man’s touch.

As she drifted back to earth her lashes opened slowly, warily as she felt him drag himself from the bed.

He was still hard, his cock straining against the cloth of his pants, the tip damp, the flared crest clearly outlined.

His expression was enflamed, with anger or lust, she wasn’t entirely certain.

“Stay away from me.” He came down, his hands going on each side of her shoulders as his face came within inches of her, the pure fury lighting his gaze unmistakable now.

Paige flinched, her breath catching.

“Abram,” she whispered his name. “I didn’t mean…”

“Stay the fuck away from me,” he snarled. “I don’t care that you didn’t mean to. I don’t care that you burn with the same fucking hunger that’s ripping my guts to shreds, stay the fuck away from me, Paige. If you care for your brother, if you have so much as a moment’s drop of affection for me, then I beg of you, never tempt me to this length again.”

There was such fury, such rage in his face that Paige could only stare back at him in bemusement.

There was no fear. She knew in the deepest recesses of her soul that Abram would never hurt her. He would never lift a hand to threaten her. But there was something in his gaze that warned her to beware, that there were far worse things to be frightened of than his anger.

But she also heard, felt, and saw the hunger in his gaze that assured her that he hadn’t been lying about burning just as she did. He wanted her. He was aching for her.

“Do the other women make the need any less sharp?” she whispered painfully. “Tell me, Abram. Does taking another lover ease that hunger?”

Would it ease hers? Would it stop the fantasies and make the restless need go away. Would finding her own lover help to stop each impulse of hunger that had her teasing him at every opportunity.

“Don’t.” There was no lessening of the anger, or the iron-hard determination in his expression. But what did change was the addition of painful knowledge that crossed his expression.

He knew exactly what she was asking. Just as he knew exactly why she had asked it.

“Answer me.” She forced him to move back or risk touching her as she came up, kneeling in the bed to stare back at him with her own anger now. “Does fucking those other women make it easier to bear the pain? Will acquiring a lover rather than saving my virginity for someone who doesn’t want it, make it easier to bear?”

For a second, for just a second, shock gleamed in his eyes.

“A virgin?” he seemed to choke on the words before he gave his head a hard shake and moved away from her. “Save your virginity for someone who deserves it.ȍ Self-disgust competed with the anger in his expression as he straightened and stared down at her, his jaw flexing, the muscle working furiously as he obviously fought whatever he was forcing himself not to say.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said, her throat tight with the knowledge that it was something he may want, but he had no intentions of accepting.

She could want him until hell froze over. She could ache, she could need. And at this moment she might even hate him. Because it didn’t matter how much she needed him, or how much he needed her, and she could see that need in his eyes, but he would walk away no matter what she said. No matter what she felt.

“I’m right about what?” he seemed to bite the words out.

“You’re right, you don’t deserve it,” she said bitterly as she forced herself from the bed, found her panties and clothes and dressed hurriedly. “You don’t have to tell Khalid I was here. He’ll only worry.”

“Did you come to see Khalid?” he questioned, his arms going over his chest as a glare settled on his face.

“Actually, I did.” Buttoning the snug jeans she pushed her feet into her sandals before lifting her head and staring back at him, refusing to feel any shame or embarrassment. “I came, because he hadn’t told me you were here, and I just wanted to see you.” The pain in her chest was overwhelming as emotion clogged her throat. “How insane was that?”