Empire of Dreams

۱۲

He hesitated for a second, before grabbing my waist and fully claiming my mouth with his.

Every part of me became alive and tingly. There was just so much want, and so much of it, that pounded through me.

I shifted back, his lips scorching mine, heating my blood, and setting fire to my senses. His hands moved to my shoulders, sliding down my arms, dragging the material down my body. His hand skated over my collarbones, brushing along my heated skin.

"Ali," I whispered, dragging my mouth away from his. He groaned, his body enveloping mine. "Ali," I repeated.

"Hmm,"

"We're..." his eyes came to meet mine, his face dawning with realization. He got up, fixed his shirt and his hair. I leaned back, my abaya pooled around my waist, my veil on the ground beside me.

Ali reached out, readjusting my abaya, and carefully placing the veil back on my head, making sure to sweep my hair away. He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me to my feet, his hand warm and steady on the small of my back.

We exited the library, ignoring the gazes of every single person we encountered on our way back to our rooms.

The white marble corridor shone with the saffron-hued light of the sun. It was barely midday and the sky was darkening rapidly. A random glance to the horizon revealed a wall of brown air stretching high. 

I could see people running around in the courtyard below, hands raised to protect their faces, fingers lifting the neck of their clothing to cover their mouth and nose. Servants moved around closing doors and windows, trying to block out the rushing, tapping sound of dirt hitting the palace walls like rain.

My eyes were already stinging from the impending dryness and I squinted to keep my focus. Ali forged ahead, his head still held high, his steps unwavering. He seemed to be used to these harsh conditions.

If I'd been at my father's house, the windows would have been closed and boarded up my now. He would have already locked us together in a room, prepared to weather out the storm.

Oddly enough, I'd never felt safe in that locked room with my father, but I felt safe walking in the wide-open corridor with my husband.

We reached our rooms, Ali firmly locking the door behind us. I looked around, finding the windows shut, the corners and crevices blocked using small pieces of clothing. Someone had already lit the lamps, casting dim lighting all around the room.

We were alone. Locked in our room, together. For the remainder of the day.

Ali turned to look at me, his eyes questioning, his face blank. I stepped back, not knowing what to do, feeling my heart come up to my throat. He stepped away from me, his face softening at the indecision in my face.

"Give me a minute," I squeaked, running to my chambers.

My hands tore the veil off my hair, shaking at the action. Was today going to be that day? Was this it? Did I want this?

I took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm the heat in my blood. I definitely wanted this. My father had made the choice of marrying me to him. My freedom was gone. But my body? That was my choice. And right now, it wanted him. No, it needed him.

My eyes caught a familiar brown package placed near my wardrobe. I walked over and unwrapped the red silk negligee. Biting my lip, I shed my dusty garb, placed some lavender oil behind my ears, brushed my hair, and slipped it on.

Gathering up my courage, I walked out to Ali's chambers, my heart pounding in my chest.

He stood exactly where I'd left him, his back towards the entrance, his eyes on the door leading to my chambers, his body tense with anticipation.