Empire of Dreams

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"You're here in my bed..." His eyes darkened, the dim light catching on the gold specks in their depths. My breathing sped up. Desire swirled inside, dazing and out of control.

"Did you miss me, my dear wife?" I stayed quiet, swallowing the lump in my throat. My hands fluttering near his cheek, wanting to touch it.

"Did you miss me?" I whispered. Ali smiled and then slowly flipped me onto my back, hovering over me. My head fell back against the pillows as he kissed the side of my neck. He lowered himself, pressing against my core, and when he moved against me in a slow, undulating grind, I gasped out his name.

"You have no idea," His voice was thick, smoky; his lips moving against my breast. I reveled in the feel of his sinewy muscles beneath my fingers as I slid my hands up his arms to his shoulders, to the back of his neck, cupping it.

"Me too." I stuttered, my cheeks flushing again.

The emotion in his eyes was enough to steal my breath away. I wanted to capture that look in his depths, keep it all for myself and unleash it on my person with wicked abandon. His lips parted in a groan as he spun me into his arms and crushed his mouth to mine.

"How I want you," he said, leaning down and kissing me. A lazy molten wave, swept over my body, leaving me boneless and breathless. He took it deep on the first stroke, his lips demanding, guiding, giving. He kissed like a man who knew he would not have to stop.

When he broke the kiss, I was panting, my legs spread wayward on the bed. My night shift and his clothing had been taken off and thrown somewhere in the room.

Breathing hard, I leaned in and touched my lips to his chest, drawing a guttural sound from his throat, as I dragged my open mouth down, my hands gliding on the tight planes of his stomach.

Ali loomed over me, his eyes savoring and lingering on all the delicate places that most intrigued a man. Heat welled everywhere he touched with his fingers, his silky mouth. His body came down with the greatest care, but his eyes burned with the scorching amber hue of a flame. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut and felt a slight tap to my face as he shook his head. He clasped my chin and made me look him in the eye.

"Open, always open, on me," he commanded. He cupped my face in both hands, his thumbs stroking at the corners of my mouth, his breathing turned shallow.

All of his intensity was now focused on me. I felt like I was in the center of the sun. Burning up. Time and conscious thought went up in sparks, leaving only now, him, and the need to be close. It was that, or the husky murmur of his voice near my ear, or the soft scrape of his cheek against mine, but something in me gave, and I watched his eyes glaze over as he sank into me.

I was lost, lost to him.

The feel of his thrusts dissolved any boundaries and left no beginning or end between us. Tension between my legs built quickly, stealing my breath, shocking me. I felt him shudder and wrench away from me just as I peaked again. He licked and caressed me deeper into oblivion until my hands clenched in the bedsheets and I arched against him with a cry. His growl of approval burned my skin, igniting the fire.

Beneath my palms, the muscles in his back were trembling. His body bowed up as pleasure hit him like a whip. "God." He groaned, his fingers flexing in my hair. His head dropped to the crook of my neck and he slumped against me, my hand curled over his damp nape.

My heart was still racing minutes later, even when he pulled out of me, causing tiny sparks of ecstasy to ricochet through my body. Clasping the sides of my face gently, he tipped my chin up and kissed me again, a long and deep kiss that was more like staking a claim than anything else.

"That...that was something," I said, closing my eyes.

"I know." He traced an idle circle over my hip. "It was even better than what I imagined, and I imagined a lot while I was away."

I flushed at the implication and tried to move away. His hand came over my waist, trapping me to his side. Trying to distract myself, my eyes refocused on his hands. The middle finger of his right hand had a small bump near the top. I brushed my finger over it. "What happened here?"

He stilled and then blew out a breath."Got that from sword drills"

"How?"

"My father..." he paused and then sighed. "Doesn't like imperfections." I bit my lip and shifted in his arms, facing him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. His gaze caught mine and he tapped on the scar near my collarbone.

"Where did you get that?"

"I was trying to rescue a sparrow," he raised an eyebrow. "The bird was stuck in the tree, and I slipped." I gasped when I felt his lips press on the old scar.

"Lucky bird."

"How so?"

"You risked your life to save it."

I giggled. "I was five years old, I wasn't exactly thinking about risking my life."

He raised my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to my palm, then carefully returned it to me."What did your father say?"

"That I was reckless." I paused, remembering how Mehmet had run off to fetch my parents. "He was right and Ammi nearly threw a fit," I said, my eyes on his, my lips turning up into a smile. "But I was undeterred."

"That explains your concern for the refugees," I stared at him open-mouthed. How did he...?

He slowly smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Ah, but a smiling Ali was a devastating sight and one that was very easily melting my heart.

Raised on his elbow, he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. He looked different. Younger. I couldn't stop my hand from drifting up to trace the curve of his bottom lip with my fingertip. His mouth, too, looked different, soft, and full. This was intimacy, knowing he could look this way. Very few people would ever see him like this, Ali the man, not the General or the Prince.

How I wished he were only a man and I were only a woman, alone, without the weight of our dynastic survival on both of our shoulders.

Whew... I've raised my own expectations and real-life will surely disappoint 😬😭