His hands gripped her waist and he thrust into her, raising his hips to match her pace.
She moved on top of him trying to assuage the ace between her legs and within her body. She had never felt something this controlling, this consuming before. She was striving, trying to reach for something and she didn’t know what, or how she would get there, just that she needed to get there now.
She was so close she could break any second. "Oh," she threw her head back. "Drake!" Her breath caught on a sharp inhale, muscles contracted and she came. He gripped her hips continuing to move her atop him until he too felt his release.
Warmth rushed through her. He felt so good, so big, but so incredibly good.
She collapsed onto his chest. Her hair fell across his body as his breathing returned to normal. She felt his hand stroke lazily up and down her spine.
"You okay?"
"Hmm..." she moaned. Speaking wasn't really an option. He was still deep inside her. She didn't want to relinquish him just yet. She wasn't afraid he wouldn't want more. From the books she had read she knew men couldn't fake their orgasms. No, she was afraid it would be hard to take him in again. As if reading her mind he said, "It gets easier."
"Hmm...You’re too big for me," she sighed. "But I like you inside me. You are my first, my only," she yawned.
"And if I have my way I'll be your last," he mumbled.
"I did it right then?"
"Oh yeah, you did everything right."
She eased off him and rolled onto her back. “You’re very good at that,” she giggled.
He chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet."
"Hmm," she closed her eyes. "Kiss me again?" She wanted to feel his lips on her lips, his tongue mingling with hers.
"My pleasure," he leaned in and rewarded her with the longest series of kisses yet.
Her stomach growled.
"You need food."
She laughed. "I am a little hungry."
Her stomach rumbled once more. He eyed her suspiciously and said, "a little?"
"A lot," she conceded."
"Pancakes coming up."
He told her to stay in bed, so she stayed. She rested her back against the headboard. Her hair fell perfectly covering her small breasts. She waited patiently for him to return and when he did he had a serving tray with a glass of orange juice and a stack of pancakes.
"That's too many for me," she said, noticing there was only one fork yet three pancakes.
"You'll need your energy."
She poured on the syrup. He laughed. "Would you like some pancake to go with that syrup?"
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you for last night, for breakfast, for...everything."
"You're welcome." He pushed her hair away from her breasts. "Thank you for an incredible morning."
"Don't you have work today?" She stuffed another piece of pancake in her mouth.
"I took a few days off. I'm all yours."
She liked the thought of Drake being all hers.
Suddenly his face turned serious. "I am sorry about your parents."
"They were my world, and now my world is gone. I feel lost...alone. No home and no family."
He took her hand in his. "We'll be your home, Nefertiti. I know it's not the same, but we love you."
"And I love you." She loved them both, but he was right; it wasn't the same. Still, she was thankful. Had she still been Mr. Olander's maid at F-301 she wouldn't have survived her parents death, no, their murder. Death sounded natural and there was nothing natural about it. They were murdered, executed. "You helped me."
"This wasn't sympathy sex. I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you. I want you still."
"And I want you."
"I want you to be mine." He interlocked his fingers with hers. She wasn't sure why his words relieved her. When she dropped her robe and stretched against him she had wanted a connection to help her forget, to get through this. But maybe she had wanted more.
"I'm yours." She gave herself over to him, opening her heart, her world, her body just for him. He was the only man she had ever wanted to give herself completely to. And though she wasn't sure he'd want more than sex, more than the friendship, she couldn't deny the fact that she was already bound to him. In her heart he was her husband.
"I need a shower," she handed him the serving tray.
"Take one in my shower." He sat the tray on the chest at the end of the bed. "I'll help you."
She frowned at him. "Like you helped me last night? I do not think so." She remembered how rough he had been when he rubbed her body.
"Sorry about that. I was full of anger and fear. I'll be gentle." He held up his right hand. "I swear."
"Well since you swear to be good."
"Babe, I said nothing about being good," he winked. "I'm too hard to just be good."
"Maybe we should get you a concubine," she snorted.
He pulled her close to him. His chest pressed against her back. "I don't want anybody else. I don't need anybody else."
She ran her fingers along his forearm. "Good," she whispered as she leaned back against him, settling deeper. She knew he would want her to talk more about her family. But for now she just wanted this, this moment with him without talk of the past, her past and her pain.
She felt his hand slide over her stomach and move lower. "No," she shook her head. "Shower."
He chuckled. "I can do it there too." He grabbed on to her hand and pulled her into the master bathroom.
"I've never seen one like this before," she pointed to the walk-in glass block shower.
"After Natalie died I wanted to change everything in here that reminded me of her." He stripped off his pants, walked into the shower and started the water. Water shot out form several sides and overhead as he walked back out. "It'll warm up quick." He smiled.
"So you changed things yourself?"
"Yeah. I started with the bedroom. Ditched the canopy bed for the cherry wood sleigh bed. Ripped up the carpet and put down wood flooring. Changed the wall color. All of it. Then I came in here and took out the Victorian tub she wanted. Ripped out the vanity sinks and built this.
"This is beautiful." She loved the modern sink. Just enough counter space for a few needed items like toothpaste and the likes. Stone tile floors in a gray color. The toilet was black, and there was a window. She hadn't seen a bathroom with a window before.
"Come on," he took her hand.
"You wanted to forget her?"
"I was angry as hell at her." He guided her into the shower. "She gave up on us and I was pissed. I took it out on the house."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don’t be;" He took a bar of soap and lathered his hands before rubbing them over her body. "I grieved my way. I had lost my son, buried him without his mother because she wouldn't leave the house. Then, a month later I buried her."
"Was she sick?"
"No. Not really. She just gave up. I couldn't get her to eat or drink anything. Couldn't get her out of bed. I wasn't home that day." He stroked her, and despite the topic of conversation she felt the distraction of arousal.
"She had asked Tayla to brink her something for her headache. Tayla took up the bottle of pills and some water and went back downstairs like she was told. When I got here I found Natalie in the tub." He sighed. "I thought she was sleep, but when I felt the cool water I knew. I knew before checking for her pulse. Then I saw the empty bottle."
"Poor Tayla." She knew how Tayla must have felt, the pain of blaming herself.
"It took a year of therapy, but she finally understood it wasn’t her fault. She's still fragile though."
She shook her head. "And then to see me..." She hadn't been thinking of what her breakdown had done to them.
"She'll be okay. She was worried about you. She thought you'd leave us the same way."
Understanding flickered in her gaze. "You were worried too." It explained his force as he pulled her from the bed, made her shower and made her take the first bite o
f food.
He teased her nipple between his fingers. "I'm still worried."
"I won't put you two through that again." She knew the pain all too well and she wouldn't be the cause of it.
"You have to talk about it, all of it."
She moaned. She didn't want to talk about it; not now.
"No. Right now I want to wash you." She soaped up her hands and smoothed them over his penis. She circled his tip and he groaned.
"This is going to kill me," he barely said through clenched teeth.
She laughed and then stroked his erection again. She liked touching him, feeling his hard muscles beneath her hands. She took her time washing him as he had washed her and when she was finished she let her hands play with him again.
He groaned out a curse before catching her hands and pushing her against the glass block. Within seconds he had her lifted to his hips, back anchored to the blocks and his erection positioned right at her entrance. He was going to take her right there, completely, and she wanted him to. She had waited her whole life for a man who would love her and with him she was sure she had that. She didn’t know how things worked in America, but love was love and she was falling in love with him, with his family too. She was falling in love so she let him love her, completely, in every way a man and woman could physically love each other and she hoped that his heart would attach to her the way her heart had already attached to him.
Without lifting his head from the crook of her neck he fumbled for the lever and turned the water off. When he was able to move he lowered her from his waist until her feet touched the floor. She tried to stand up right on her own.
"Where did you learn to do that?" She clumsily walked out of the shower. He chuckled.
"Good, huh?"
"Fantastic," she grabbed hold of a towel.
"Let me," he took the towel from her and dried her off with a sweet caress. He was gentle with her. That gentleness had to come from love. At least she thought that was how things worked. She had never been in love, or loved romantically before so she wasn’t sure what the rules were. She knew the fantasy she had about love, but the reality as it stood today was something she couldn’t declare expert knowledge on. She knew the love her parents had—that complete devotion to each other that lit up their home with happiness and a complete feeling of safety. If that’s what all love felt like then she would say they loved each other in the way a man and woman should love each other if they planned to be physically intimate with each other—which they already had. She would not have given herself to him if she didn’t feel what she felt.
"I should go upstairs and get some clothes."
"I like you naked."
She could see that. "If I don't get dressed we won't make it out of your bedroom."
"That's the plan," he grinned.
"Okay." She strolled into the bedroom knowing his eyes were glued to her naked body. "I guess I'll just lie here," she rolled onto her belly and rested her chin in the palm of her hands.
"I'll join you." Like a cat he was quickly beside her, stroking the curve of her butt cheeks, gently kneading them.
“I need recovery." She reminded him.
"And we need to talk."
Chapter Five
He loved making love with her, but avoidance wasn't the way to grieve; he knew that from experience. He also knew she didn't want to talk.
"What happened to you in Israel?"
"No." She started to turn away, but he guided her chin back in his direction.
"Yes. Tell me."
"I want to forget."
"But you haven't forgotten. It still haunts you." He remembered her nightmare. She wouldn't talk about it, but he knew it was tied to Israel.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I was sixteen when we left Egypt. When I turned eighteen some men abducted me from my home. They took me out from the city to a small house. There was only one room. It was dirty and smelled of urine. One of the men held me down. They ripped my clothing and they would have taken me, but Aldir stopped them. He had found me only a couple hours after they took me. I was lucky. We were all grateful to him."
"He started to come by to check up on me. He brought gifts...nothing to raise concern. I thought he looked at me as a daughter, but I was wrong. He was called away when a disturbance broke out in the outer territory. He was gone ten years, but when he came back he remembered me."
She trembled. "He asked for my hand. I said no, and father wouldn’t force marriage on me. I was lucky. My mother was French, my father an Egyptian scholar and neither believed in forced marriages. Aldir lost patience. Two weeks before my thirtieth birthday he had me detained. I was held for three days without food and water. They held my head in a bucket of water several times and I thought I would die."
He wanted to kill the bastards. Hell, he'd go to Israel for the sole purpose of taking them out.
"Anyway. Aldir let me go. He had me shoved out of a moving car in front of our house. He told me he would call again. My parents decided I needed to leave. There are very few places over there where there are no men willing to kill for Aldir. So they decided on America. Chadi arranged everything. He had helped other women, so they trusted him to help me. I had hoped once I became a citizen that they could join me. But now..."
Now that wasn't an option. He pushed her hair to one side of her neck and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you suffered. I'm sorry you suffer still."
"I can't go back there."
"You won't have to." He had a plan for making sure she stayed. He knew he wanted to marry her, but he also wasn't sure she'd be eager to use him for citizenship now that she knew him. No, his plan was in two parts; get her pregnant and get her to say yes to marriage. He was working diligently on the pregnant part. He had come inside of her purposely. And after their shower, when she almost made him come in her mouth, he had enough mental clarity to know he didn't want his boys going where they wouldn't have a chance of serving his purpose.
"Why did you have to leave Egypt?"
"I don't know. My parents never told me. They would not speak of it, and I guess I just learned not to ask any more questions. I did not want to cause them more pain."
She sighed. "If I have to leave America I'll go north to Canada. Aldir's reach stretches far and he will suspect France would be my first stop if I had to leave here."
"You're not going anywhere."
"I hope you are right. I like it here in America with you," she rolled over; "and Tayla. The two of you remind me a little of me and my father. You are close. That is good."
"Just wait until she's a teen and wants to date."
“Your country..."
"Our country." This was going to be her country too and it was time she thought of it as home.
She smiled. "Our country..." she looked into his eyes.”It is strangely different."
"You weren't obsessed with dating as a teen."
"No. I was in love with Egypt. I studied. I worked digs with my father and the other university students."
"There were no young men interested in you? I find that hard to believe."
"There were those who were interested, but I wanted to feel that desire and connection. Like my mother felt for my father."
She told him how her mother had come to Egypt on a study exchange, met her father at one of his lectures and fell deeply for him and he fell just as deeply for her. "Within three weeks they were married." She giggled. "Father worked fast but I believe it was mother who captured him. Before her he had sworn himself a bachelor, married only to history. After her," she smiled. "History became his mistress...one they shared with each other. To have that kind of love and devotion; I wanted that. It is why I turned down Aldir."
"You didn’t' love him."
She shook her head furiously. "No. He didn't love me either. He just wanted to possess my body."
"So you saved yourself."
She looked in his eyes."Yes. I saved myself for the man who could hold
my soul."
He was that man. Her words brought him much pleasure. She edged closer to him. "Hold me?" Her voice was a sweet elixir. He rolled onto his back and allowed her to lay on him as much as she wanted. She settled her head on his chest and allowed one leg to rest in between his legs. Her thigh nudged his cock. He could be ready again soon, but he knew she wasn't so he draped his arms around her and just held her as she drifted to sleep.
He spent the weekend making love to her, taking care of her, talking with her. The time went by fast and Tayla was home once again. Tonight Nefertiti would sleep in her own bed for the first time since her parents' death. As much as he wanted her in his bed he needed to take some time to gradually introduce Tayla to his willingness to take another wife. He expected she would have some concerns and that was best dealt with before Nefertiti took to his bed while Tayla was home.
After an exchange of hugs and Tayla practically circulating throughout the house as Nefertiti's shadow it was time for bed.
He walked both upstairs and sent Tayla in her room. He leaned in closer to Nefertiti, looked her in the eyes and said, "I'll come up later."
She simply nodded, said goodnight to Tayla and went to her room.
An hour later, once he was sure Tayla was asleep, he went up to see Nefertiti. She had been crying again.
"Hey," he sat beside her on the bed.
"My mother," she showed him the picture. "And my father." She showed another. "Beautiful aren't they?"
"Yes they are." He could see the love in her eyes.
"Tayla asleep?"
"Yes."
She sat the pictures back on her nightstand. "Did you come for me?" She untied her robe exposing baby pink panties and a black tank top.
“We don't have to."
"I want to." She stood and removed her clothes and he followed suit while she turned down the bed.
It didn't take him long to come to rest between her legs and when he did, he took his time ravishing her body. He didn't stay the night in her bed, though he wanted to. For weeks they kept up their midnight affair. After a couple months he managed to work up the nerve to ask Tayla what she'd think about him dating again. She was fine with it as long as they kept Nefertiti on. When he told her that's how he had in mind she seemed ecstatic.
Maid for Hire & Educating Australia Page 4
