The Sheikh's Impetuous Love-Slave by Marguerite Kaye Page A

the hard peaks of her breasts invitingly. He knelt between her legs to take one breast, then the other into his mouth, sucking hard, relishing the surge of pleasure etched on her face as he did so, feeling the same surge echoing, tightening his manhood.
    â€˜Juliette. My princess. My goddess,’ he murmured as he tilted her towards him, caressing the already moist pink folds of her sex, his tongue, echoing the touch of his fingers, licking her full lower lip.
    â€˜Khalid. My prince,’ she murmured, pulling him towards her, yearning for the ultimate coupling, for the two of them to become one. He kissed her hard, deeply, and thrust slowly, carefully. She felt as if she were unfolding. There was no pain, only a tightness which intensified the shivering, shimmering ecstasy of his entry. His shaft forged its way deeper, higher, a combination of velvet and steel, and she enveloped him, tilted up to open farther for him, gasping with pleasure at the way he filled her, and continued to fill her.
    She wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her again, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, as his shaft thrust inside her. She felt tense and hot. He thrust again, and she felt as if she were climbing, climbing with him, urged higher, to some magical peak. Again he thrust, encouraging her to move with him, quickly finding a rhythm together, climbing steeper, higher with each thrust until she could go no more, until she was there, on that mountaintop, dizzyingly high, achingly full, unable to stop herself from tumbling headlong, crying out his name as she climaxed, clutching him closer, closer as he too came, spending himself deep within her, melding them together, inextricably bound by silken ties of passion and love.
    They lay thus, on the altar for some time, the sunlight making of them one burnished golden image. Finally, Juliette opened her eyes. She smiled, a sated, blissful smile which was entirely charming, which stirred Khalid to his depths. ‘You don’t think Shal’aal will be offended by our actions, do you?’
    â€˜On the contrary,’ Khalid said, kissing her mouth, revelling in the way her lips were already swollen from his kisses, his shaft stirring responsively. ‘I think this altar was designed specifically for this purpose.’ He kissed her again. His erection hardened. ‘We should pay homage to Shal’aal again, I think.’ Gently, he began to do just that.
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    It was only later, when she opened her eyes, looking idly round at the walls of the temple behind her, that she spotted the tiny niche. Hidden in the shadow of a pillar, it could only be seen from the altar, at this precise angle. At first she thought it was a sunbeam which coloured it gold, but then she realized that the sun had moved. The alcove itself was lined with gold, like a tiny keyhole, only a strange shape. A womanly shape.
    â€˜Shal’aal!’ Juliette exclaimed. ‘Khalid, look. It has to be. Look!’
    And it was. Carefully, Juliette placed the little idol in the niche. She fitted perfectly. Standing back, not a trace could be seen of her behind the pillar, yet the atmosphere in the temple seemed to have changed. ‘She has come home,’ Juliette said, smiling shyly up at Khalid.
    Khalid smiled lovingly in return. ‘Like you and I, she has found her true destiny.’
    â€˜You will think it foolish, but I feel as if, by returning her, I have made some reparation for the wrongs Papa was compelled to commit. Can we leave her here, where she belongs? It would mean a lot to me.’
    â€˜I don’t think it foolish at all,’ Khalid said, kissing the palm of her hand. ‘Shal’aal has returned to her rightful home. It is time for you and me to do the same. I cannot wait to claim you as my wife.’
    â€˜And I cannot wait, either, my love. Who knows, maybe Shal’aal will bless our union with the gift of children?’
    â€˜Then the sooner we start