She twisted out of his arms, stumbled between the huge pieces. “This isn’t shah matt. This is only Shah, or whatever check was originally called.” Her trembling hands moved her queen. “Now it’s your king who’s matt.”

He stared at her move for stupefied moments. Then he burst out laughing, peal after peal of guffaws that sent another river of hormones gushing in her system. “Hada w’Ullah suheeh-by God, it’s true. I didn’t even see this coming. I’ve officially lost my mind, then. Or more accurately, you’ve stolen it.”

“Turnabout is fair play, since you’ve stolen mine. And now you do as I please.”

He spread his arms wide. “Always. Anything. E’emorini. Command me.”

She stumbled back to him, her prize, heat surging and splashing through her like a relentless fountain, turned and pressed her back into the breadth of his body, stood on tiptoes and squashed her buttocks into his erection. “I want you to take me, just like this, no waiting, no bringing me to orgasm first. I want to come around you, and only around you tonight.”

Something reverberated in his chest, wild and voracious as he snatched her up in his arms, rushed to a compartment at the far end of the tent. Behind the waterfall of damask drapes isolating it lay another setting of senses-soaking sensuality, dominated by a huge bed draped in gold and red satin and flanked by mirror-polished brass panels, with a gleaming copper tray table beside it, laden with fruits and delicacies.

He placed her on the bed, on her knees, tore the drawstring off, let his pants pool to the ground as he freed himself. Then he thrust inside her in one stroke.

The blow of sensation as he stretched her beyond her capacity paralyzed her. But it was their reflection in the brass panels, him bending over her back, her kneeling, impaled on his erection, that made her convulse on a sucker-punch orgasm.

“Aih, come around me, give it all to me,” he growled as she bucked beneath him, screeched and clawed at the satin beneath her fingers. He rode her crest, pressing her down until her face was wetting the satin with tears and sweat, kneading her breasts, her nipples, her mound, spreading her slick core and stroking her everywhere but at the focus of sensations until the pressure inside her rose once more, threatened to implode her.

“I can’t…Shehab…can’t…too much…”

“You can. You will. Take what you want. Me, unable to wait, driven all the way inside you, your captive, at your mercy. You at mine, taking all of me, like this…” He touched her cervix.

Sensations buried her, squeezing wild response from her core, her lungs. “Yes…like that…please, don’t stop…”

He did, withdrew from her. Before she could cry out, he spread her on her back and plunged inside her again, letting her feel the rawness of the strength that could pulverize men twice her size leashed to become carnality, seduction, cherishing. He undulated his hips, stretching her around his invasion, his eyes leaving her one exposed nerve.

“E’emorini-command me. What’s your pleasure?”

“Come with me…”

“Amrek, ya galbi.” And he rammed inside her. She keened, the pleasures gathering in her core smothering each other around him. She dug her fingernails into his buttocks, wanting him to stab her to the heart. He did, gave her the savagery the epicenter of destruction needed to be unleashed.

She vanished in a moment of whiteout before detonations radiating from his driving manhood razed her, reformed her for the next sweep. Then he joined her in this darkest ecstasy, roaring his completion, his orgasm tapping into hers, boosting its power as his seed splashed into her womb, scorching her and putting out the fire all at once. If not for long, as she knew by now.

A long time later, still hard and throbbing inside her, he rose on his arms. “I trust you’re satisfied with my obedience?”

“Any more satisfied and I’d revert to the liquid state.”

He moved inside her, drew deep groans from both their throats. “Any more satisfied and I’d burn to ashes. What do you command of me next?”

She was savagely pleasured, boneless yet feeling ambitious. “A swim. Then the barbecue. Then you let me take you.”

He heard the beep. It made no sense for a whole minute. Lying there, wrapped in Farah, still hard inside her, he could feel or think of nothing that originated outside them and their union.

The beep came again. The third time he realized what it was. A message. On the cell phone only three men had access to. His king and his brothers.

“What’s beeping?” Farah stirred over him, her internal muscles rippling around his erection.

He thrust deeper into her, unable to contemplate having to leave her. The beep came again. He knew it would keep on doing that until he read the message. Knew they wouldn’t send one unless there was something worth disturbing him for.

And he was disturbed. He hated the intrusion into the bliss he was sharing with Farah. Dreaded it even.

“A message. From either my uncle or one of my brothers.”

She raised her head off his chest. He groaned as he saw the dreaminess seep from her eyes as alarm inched in. “You think it’s something urgent?”

“It must be. Or they wouldn’t contact me.”

This made her spill off him, and they both lurched, groaned at the pain of separation. “Answer it, then.”

With a growl, he succumbed, reached for the infernal phone.

The message was from Farooq. Video conference. Now.

His heart clenched inside his chest. What now?

“Take a shower until I come back. Or sleep a bit. The night is just starting, and I intend to keep you up for most of it.”

“Oh, yes, please.” She spread herself, inviting, delighting. “And take your time. You’ll find me right here, waiting.” He took one more kiss from those succulent lips that promised heaven. And they only promised more. “Remember, it’s your turn to lie there and let me explore you and pleasure you to my heart’s content.”

“I’m all yours to do with what you please, ya hayati.” He plunged for another clinging kiss, then withdrew.

She lay back, watched him with an adoring smile as he stood up, put on drawstring pants and an abaya, his eyes devouring her back. Then he gritted his teeth and went to see what the world that existed outside them chose to blight him with.

In his study, he turned on his computer and its three connected widescreen monitors, activated the video conferencing. Farooq and Kamal appeared on two of them.

So, the king still wasn’t up to making an appearance. He wondered if his uncle ever would be again. If his own days as crown prince were numbered and his days as king of Judar were hurtling nearer.

Farooq’s golden eyes still had that apologetic heaviness they’d been full of since he’d thrown the succession into Shehab’s lap. He wanted to tell him to stop feeling uneasy, that instead of saddling him with a burden, he’d done him the favor of his life, allowing him to find Farah, share all this with her, live in anticipation of a lifetime with her. It now turned his stomach to think Farooq might have agreed to marry her. He was certain he would come to feel the same way about her no matter what, and it would have been hell seeing her in his brother’s arms, duty wife or not. He couldn’t even bear thinking about it.

Before he said any of that, Kamal spoke.

“It’s been six weeks, Shehab.”

His eyes swung to his brooding brother, met the gaze that seethed with genius and mercilessness. “Aih, I miss you, too.”

Kamal raised one winged eyebrow, the movement eloquent with abrasive mockery. “You’re going soft on us, aren’t you?”

Shehab gave his younger brother a considering look even as his comment scraped his tightening nerves. Kamal had always been the one to provoke friction, the one with the harshest opinions, the least compassion. He not only didn’t suffer fools, he made them suffer. He had followers, but no friends, and but for the presence of Shehab and Farooq in his life, was a total lone wolf. As for enemies, while he had many, no one dared declare the enmity or act on it.

He’d become this rough and ruthless only in the past years, since his stint in the States. He hadn’t talked about what had happened there, but he’d come back ready to maul anyone who stepped out of line, like a lion with a festering wound. And he’d remained so, as if all the humanity in him had been extracted.

Shehab finally demanded, “And your definition of soft?”

Kamal leaned forward, as if he’d reach through the screen and take up his challenge physically. “Taking six weeks to do what you could have done in six days. B’haggej’Jaheem, in six hours. You had her on your jet and on the way to your island within that time frame, ready and willing. Why didn’t you just-”

Shehab banged his fist on the desk. “Shut up, Kamal. If you want to keep those perfect teeth of yours.”

Kamal narrowed his wolf’s eyes at him, whistled. “You’re not going soft, you’re already there.”

“I’ll help you knock his teeth out later, Shehab. But we do need to know what’s going on.”

He turned his eyes to Farooq, heard a squeal in the background. Suddenly all his tension drained. Mennah. Farooq’s one-year-old daughter. The smile that surged to his lips came straight from his heart. The little tyke had conquered him on sight. His life had suddenly become so much richer for having the privilege of being her uncle. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he’d feel about a daughter of his own. With Farah…

His eyes searched behind Farooq, hoping to catch a glimpse of the toddler. Farooq understood at once, got up, was back in seconds, his arms filled with the incredible fresh life that, along with her mother, had changed his brother’s forever.