The Serpent's Veil

Moonlight

A/N - This chapter has been heavily edited since I first uploaded. 

Trigger warning - physical intimacy 

X

It started soft, tentative, as if asking permission. The taste of wine and sugar and salt on his lips sent Khaya's head spinning. His arm snaked around her waist, pressing their hips together and deepening the kiss.

It was like drowning in gold, like drinking fire, all-consuming to the point of forgetting how to breathe.

She could feel her headscarf coming undone, but she didn't care. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she sighed, lips parting. Her hands clutched at his kaftan, pulling him into her.

Her breath was heavy, heart racing as he leaned down and kissed her pulse point. Something deep in her stomach knotted, and her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He smiled against her neck, thrilled by the way she quivered beneath him.

Khaya's breath hitched when he began sucking the soft skin below her ear. A pulsing warmth bloomed between her legs, as if a flare had been ignited inside her.

When he pulled away they were both breathing hard, the air between them bubbling with heat and anticipation. Khaya's skin burned, itchy and uncomfortable against her garments. Rehan's half-lidded eyes drank in her dishevelled state; swollen lips and flushed cheeks and veil undone.

Beautiful.

She took a deep breath and tucked her hair behind her ears, avoiding his eye as she retied her headscarf.

"Do you want to go back to the harem?"

The question hung in the air between them. If she said yes, he would walk her back and kiss her goodnight just like before, and she would be left to her own devices until he wished to see her again.

"I would rather stay with you," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She knew what she was really saying yes to.

X

As soon as the doors closed behind them their mouths were on each other's, hot and feral and yearning. Khaya's fingers slipped under Rehan's collar, pressing against the soft skin of his neck. His strong arms wrapped around her back, crushing them together.

"Khaya," he breathed into her mouth.

The way her name sounded in his mouth intoxicated her, and heat began to pound low in her belly again.

In a swift movement Rehan picked Khaya up and gently laid her on the satin sheets. He watched her as she carefully removed her headscarf and let her hair tumble over her shoulders. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her qamis over her head. 

Her chest was bound in a tight white cloth, rising with deep, deliberate breaths. And her eyes. He had never seen those eyes, dark and filled with latent desire. He watched the way the light touched her, softly caressing each curve and hollow like something out of a painting. It was taking everything he had not to pin her down and ravish her then and there.

Every fibre in him was burning for her, begging for her.

He leaned over her, pressed his mouth to the base of her throat and trailed kisses down from her neck to her collarbone, pulling soft whimpers and sighs from her lips. His fingers traced lines on her stomach absently, and the muscles there tightened in response. 

Khaya's whole body ached, every inch of her pulsing and squirming and wanting. Her nails dug into his back over his shirt and he let out a low growl, grinding his hips into hers. He wanted to tear every piece of fabric between them to shreds.