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And that was when she felt it.

Malik starting to move behind her, and her lips parted in a soundless moan as he started rubbing his cock against her. His hands squeezed the cheeks of her ass, and she almost let out a sob. One arm went around her body, and her throat locked.

Oh God.

His hand slid down her body.

Stop him, for the love of all things holy, stop him!

But she could not make herself move, and so his hand continued on its path, its caressing fingers unimpeded. Lower and lower it went, and harder and harder it became for Kyria to breathe—-

And finally, his fingers stopped—-

On that place she realized she had both feared and hoped he would touch—-

Her flesh pulsed under his fingers, soft and swollen, and oh so wet. She was so horrifyingly, shockingly wet that suddenly everything felt too much, and a whimper tore past her lips. The sound shattered the silence, ripping through the dangerous web that sleep and unconscious desires had woven about their minds and bodies.

They sprang apart, Kyria rising up in clumsy haste while Malik’s powerful form tensed like someone had pointed a gun at him. She turned to look at the sheikh, and the sickened expression on his beautiful face made her feel faint and dizzy. She didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t know how to feel about it—-

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“O-of course,” she managed to say even as his apology made her shiver for some reason.

His jaw tightening, Malik asked curtly, “Did I frighten you?”

Kyria’s lips parted, but no words came out. What could she say when she still didn’t understand what had happened? Without meeting his gaze, she whispered, “I think I should go.” A part of her was dying to be alone, to have some time and space to make sense of things. But the other larger part of her...wanted something else. It wanted to hear Malik say he wanted her to stay, to tell her...

“I think you should.”

Kyria rushed out of his tent without another word, her head lowered to keep him from seeing her tears. Even now, she still didn’t know what she wanted him to say, but she also knew it no longer mattered.

Malik’s words had made it very clear what he wanted, and because she only lived to do what he wanted, then that was how it should be.



















Part III

AS GOOD AS MALIK ANDKyria got along together, it was not uncommon for the two to have their misunderstandings, and neither ever cared to make any secret of it. More often than not, Kyria’s complaints often revolved around Malik being too strict.Why was she forbidden from visiting this place? Why was she prohibited from doing that? Why, why, why?And as much as she strove to be dutiful and meek, where Malik was concerned her hard-earned composure would sometimes desert her. In her younger years, this had translated to tantrums and locking herself in her room and refusing to eat while Malik was around. Eventually, Kyria outgrew her passive-aggressive tendencies, but this in return was replaced by yelling matches that could be heard throughout the hallways of the palace. Thankfully, these generally lasted for but a short while, to the point that the staff had learned to simply shrug it off and stop panicking every time they heard raised voices coming from Malik’s study.