as it probed his mouth. The rough pull against his robe as she drew him even closer. Her toes stepping onto the tops of his sandals as she tried to boost herself up to meet him. His strong, reserved wife kissed him with a burning hunger that turned the excuses he’d made not to pull her into his arms before this into ashes.
He wanted her; if that made him weak, strength be damned. His arms clamped around her, lifting her so she didn’t have to lever herself, but not so much that he did all the work for her—even overcome with lust, he knew his Shanti wouldn’t like that.
His Shanti?
He didn’t know how long they kissed, or when his hands moved to cup her breasts and thumb her nipples through her pajama top, or when he walked her back so that she ended up pressed against one of the ridiculously large ceramic vases scattered around the palace. All he knew was that at each escalation he checked with her, and each time she said yes.
The curve of the vase arched her hips forward invitingly to rub against his erection, a sigh of a moan escaping her kiss-swollen lips.
“Show me, Wife,” he said, barely recognizing the deep rumble of his own voice. She reached for his hand, her fingers trembling as she guided his palm, and then slipped it between them so that he cupped her mound through the thin fabric of her shorts.
“When I imagined you showing up at my door, I imagined this,” she said, circling her hips against his fingers. Sanyu’s dick jumped so hard it startled him.
“Me touching you?” he asked, undulating his fingers to catch her rhythm.
She reached her hand out and lifted the edge of his royal garment. “Us touching each other.”
As her fingers grazed up his thigh, tugged down his boxers, and closed around his penis, Sanyu finally appreciated the brilliance of the robe’s design—easy access.
“Oh goddess,” she said as her fingers mapped his width and girth, rubbed over the smoothness of his head and traced the veins that strained beneath her caress. “Hello, Husband.”
Sanyu slipped his fingers along the outline of her folds and pressed his thick finger against the firm nub of her clit, rubbing gently as her eyes widened and her hips lifted toward him. “Hello, Wife.”
Her hand worked the length of him, and he briefly cupped his free hand around hers, guiding her so that she knew what felt best to him. She matched his stroke and he groaned, strumming her clit more deeply in return.
Her breath came fast and her hips jerked; Sanyu curved his thick fingers over the length of her mound, pressed into the damp fabric of her shorts, and rubbed deep circles against the hooded nub between her folds.
Shanti’s response was something like a sob, and the expression of pleasure that scrunched her features made him fuck into her fist more quickly.
He cupped the back of her neck with his free hand, slipping his fingers into the thick mass of her hair to support her head as he kissed her. There was nothing simple about pleasure, especially in his world where it was so often snatched from him, but this?
He’d never experienced this before. It was like they formed a circuit joined by desperate mouths and questing hands that magnified every tiny stroke and caress. Sanyu was unsure if the divine truly existed since the only gods he’d been taught to worship were of war and wisdom, but whatever was passing between him and his wife made him consider that it did.
“Sanyu,” she breathed into his mouth. She cried out and there was a sound of his robe ripping free from its pins; her other hand squeezed his shaft harder, stroked more quickly. He rubbed tighter, deeper circles in response, so focused on their pleasure that he didn’t realize the loud moans were coming from him as well.
One of her hands clasped the back of his head as she shuddered her release—quiet, controlled undulations of her belly that pulsed against his fingers between her legs. He pumped into her fist as stars exploded low in his groin and behind his eyes, and mindless pleasure blotted everything out.
They sagged into one another, breathing heavily, and when she tilted her head back to meet his gaze, the desire in her eyes wasn’t gone.
“That was unexpected,” she said, her voice husky. “That was . . .”
He twitched his finger between her legs and another tremor moved through her as