Possessed by Desire by Elisabeth Naughton Page B

thigh, then came up again, this time closer to her sex. She groaned, tightened her stomach, tried to lift her hips higher—to get away? To get closer? She wasn’t sure—but the ropes kept her in place. His tongue continued to tease a path all around her nipple but never touched it. She couldn’t help it. She groaned. Why wasn’t he suckling her? Why wasn’t he taking her shorts off? Why wasn’t he giving her the release he knew she craved?
    He kissed her breastbone, dragged his lips down to her belly button and circled the indentation with the tip of his tongue until her clit throbbed. She groaned again. Arched higher. Gripped the ropes tighter. “Ashur, please—”
    “It’s a heightened state of sexual arousal where release is repeatedly denied,” he said. “It can go on for hours, even days.” He continued the soft touch at her inner thigh, the brush of his lips at her lower abdomen, right near the waistband of her shorts. “Trust me, noor , I’ve been trained in all forms of desire. Before this night is through, you’re going to wish you had released me.”
    A chill spread through her, and though her body still hummed with heat and need, slowly, the sexual haze cleared. Until thought reformed, and reality settled in hard.
    This wasn’t about seduction. This was about torturing her until she finally let him go. About corrupting her soul, just as his master wanted.
    I can’t let him go. I still need him …
    A buzzing echoed close. Followed by his sultry voice. “Let’s see how hot we can make you with this.”
    The scent of rubber rose up to her nose. Then something pressed against her shorts, right over her mound.
    Wicked vibrations rocked her entire body. She cried out. Lifted her hips. Her frantic thoughts spiraled away, until she couldn’t grasp them anymore. Until all she could focus on was the tingling pulses consuming her sex.
    He was using the dildo on her. She thrashed against the bed. Lifted her hips, dropped them, tried to rub against the toy. Yes, yes, yes… She wanted to feel it against her bare sex. Wanted him to press it inside her. Wanted the orgasm that was barreling closer with every second.
    A sharp ring echoed through the room. Ashur lifted his head from the breast he’d been torturing and pulled the dildo away from her mound. She groaned in frustration as seconds passed in agony.
    Finally, he whispered, “Just your phone. Where were we?”
    The dildo pressed against her mound once more. Then every muscle in her body went rigid as his teeth pulled the snap free at her waist.
    Oh … It was descending again. The haze that made thinking nearly impossible. The dark craving for his sinful touch. The desire to let go, to stop fighting, to give him anything he wanted.
    Maybe you’ll enjoy it …
    Oh, but she was enjoying. Too much. She was on the brink of doing whatever he commanded, giving him anything, promising everything if he’d just slide his hands into her waistband, drag the shorts down her hips, and take her.
    A click resounded through the room, followed by, “Claire?”
    Her answering machine. Someone was leaving a message. Someone Claire vaguely recognized but couldn’t place because every cell in her body was focused on Ashur’s wicked tongue now running beneath the waistband of her shorts and that damn dildo pulsing against her clit, making her sweat.
    “Oh,” she whispered, lifting her hips again to alleviate the ache consuming every inch of her skin.
    “Claire?” the voice went on. “It’s Tariq. I heard from Nasir. The bottle’s been found and opened. Zoraida is free. Mira and I need to talk to you. If Ashur’s still alive, Zoraida will most likely be sending him here. We need to formulate a plan. Call us back as soon as you can.”
    The vibrations suddenly stopped, and the mattress bounced; then air rushed over Claire’s overheated skin, making her nipples even harder. The blindfold was yanked from her eyes before she realized what was