Disclaimer: Stephen Sommers and Universal Pictures own the character of Ardeth Bay. I do not profit from this work.
Here is the last chapter. I've tried to edit it to an R. I hope I've succeeded. Warning: adult situations ahead!
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He trembled visibly, and I felt a surge of pleasure at how much he wanted me. I would give him this, this that he desired, the pleasure of my body; Allah knew how it ruled men. The pain would be nothing compared to the joy it would afford him. "All you know of love is too harsh," he said when he had regained his composure. "You do not know---you have not felt the pleasure of it. I will go slow, and instruct you in its delights." His eyes met mine, and I felt warmth rise to my cheeks from the exquisite longing that was displayed in his face.
His gaze roamed, taking in the swell of my chest under the black robes. He leaned forward, kissing me again, and his hands roved over my body, gently stroking. He began to loosen the sash at my waist, drawing it away from me. Without breaking the kiss he began to slide the robe aside. The cool air of the ten stirred across my exposed skin until his hot hands found their way onto my flesh. With the utmost gentleness he began to caress me, his fingertips carefully unfastening the undergarments that I wore. Gently he pulled away from our kiss and lightly nipped the side of my neck, drawing his mouth farther down, kissing my collarbone. His hands gently massaged my breasts, stirring an unfamiliar feeling within me. When his warm, moist mouth descended onto my nipple I cried out weakly at the hot flash of desire that coursed through my body. I wove my hands into the silken masses of his hair as he delicately pleasured me with his tongue, each delicate flick sending a lightning bolt of energy through my spine. He moved to the other, nibbling and teasing me into a frenzy.
Gently he disengaged himself, lying next to me, his talented lips tasting my earlobe as his fingers continued to caress my breasts knowingly. His hot breath on my neck, the rough feel of his calloused fingertips against me---so many sensations warred within me. A moan escaped my lips.
Eventually he leaned back, surveying me through the long lashes that fringed his mahogany eyes. "You are so very beautiful," he murmured, his hand straying further down across the skin of my belly. He lay there for some time, watching me while his hand moved closer and closer to the drawstring of my undergarments. He untied them and I found myself holding my breath as he slowly slipped his hand underneath, entwining his fingers in the silky curls there, rubbing them and feeling them with care. He moved inexorably downward, a single rough fingertip finding suddenly the place where the lightning seemed to gather, the sensitive nub of all my desire, and I moaned in pleasure at his touch, closing my eyes. His hot mouth found my nipple, closing and sealing itself around it while his tongue gently flicked, sending shudders of desire down my spine. His fingers explored further, delicately stroking the wetness between my thighs, slowly, tortuously caressing me until I felt an intense tingling begin to take hold. I arched my back, and I could not help moaning as his skilled fingers traced lazy unbearable patterns.
Gently he withdrew his hand through the curls, now damp; kissing my breasts, he rose up on his knees, looking down upon me. I was flushed with the heat of my desire, the blush of passion spread across my skin. His hands took ahold of my undergarments and gently began to slide them off my body and his dark presence above me only highlighted the contrast between my now complete nakedness and him, still completely clad in his black robes, still wearing the heavy polished boots. Placing his knees on either side of my own, he pressed himself against me, kissing me deeply, the hot crush of the coarse fabric against my skin, his tongue penetrating my mouth, his hands shifting behind me, almost lifting me into him. I could feel the hard length of his manhood, but it did not frighten me now; the need was too great. It would be different with this man, this lion of a man.
Again he backed off, staring at my body with hot, unfeigned passion. His mouth kissed my collarbone, working its way down slowly, and I was mystified at first, until he gently breathed in the fragrance of my dark, short curls. He slipped one hand underneath me, gently holding and he wrapped the other around my thigh, carefully spreading apart my legs until the whole of my femininity was his to gaze upon. Never had I felt this naked, this vulnerable; the scratch of his beard pressed against my inner thigh.
When his tongue found the secret nub of my desire I cried out. The incredible feel of his hot lips against me was unbearable. The intense tingle returned threefold, rendering me speechless with overwhelming pleasure. He stroked and suckled hungrily, his arm locked around my thigh like a band of iron, his other bringing me closer to those inescapable lips, their hot, sensual fullness arousing me so that I thought I would die. My hips bucked, and suddenly I was unable to breathe, caught in a moment wherein all was rendered molten, the whole of my world caught and trapped in a single blinding moment of pure pleasure. I closed my eyes and gave myself wholly to the unbearable delight of his mouth.
I laid still, feeling drained by the intense feelings I had just held. I listened to the whisper of his silk sash being unknotted, the soft noise of his own robes falling to the floor; then there was the sudden electrifying feeling of his naked, hot flesh against my own. I opened my eyes to see his own piercing me with their characteristic intensity. At his touch my body reacted, desiring to know the sensation anew. His deft fingers began to reawaken my passion. I entwined my hands in the dark nest of his hair, then trailed my fingers down the back of his neck delicately, causing him to pause and shiver. He shifted, moving on top of me, the sensual scent of his masculinity exciting me. I could feel the hot length of his manhood against me. I could feel the hot length of his manhood against me, throbbing, and I parted my legs, slowly wrapping them around his muscular body. He began to rub himself against me, laying the tip directly upon what he had so thoroughly explored with his tongue, and I moaned as the tingle began to build and build, the honey of my excitement making us both slick. When I could not stand it any longer he laid himself at the gate, gently, inexorably pushing. I relaxed against him, trying to draw him in, and he groaned in pleasure when I used my legs to take him in further. We were sealed together, and he filled me wholly, his dark hair damp, the perspiration standing out in tiny beads on his bronze lustered skin, his eyes closed in rapture. Gently he began to move in and out, his concentration fierce, his teeth bared. I moved against him, gently rocking my hips. With a savage growl he laid himself against me, locking himself to me, his arms around my back, thrusting into me wildly, his face buried in my hair, his arms hold me tightly to him, incredible heat radiating from his body. The tingle exploded within me, and I cried out in pleasure, willing him deeper within me, feeling the ravenous power of his hunger for me. He drew back suddenly, unable to cry out, his face caught in an expression of intense pleasure, and then he laid back on top of me, spent, his chest heaving, saying my name raggedly.
Reluctantly he withdrew from me, rolling to one side and locking one arm around my waist protectively, as he had done so many nights ago in the lonely tent in the Bsatya. His eyes watched me with such ardent feeling that I was moved.
"To the end of our days, I am yours," he said fervently, sealing this vow with a gentle kiss.