situation, and he’d given it back to her. He was already thick and throbbing inside of her, his hands on her body were already testing her own restraint, but knowing that he’d willingly given her command of the situation without her even having to ask, or breaking their stride . . .
Heat coursed through Shanti’s body, combining with that something else that she preferred not to feel for her husband but was starting to anyway, and her orgasm clamped onto her like a bear trap.
“Sanyu!” Her fingertips dug into his arms as he pumped up into her, not losing the tempo of motion even as he flipped her over onto her back and went to his knees before the couch, a fist planted into the cushion on either side of her.
She couldn’t speak as her orgasm died out and the next started to bloom, so she just gripped his barrel chest with her knees and tried to meet the delicious bottom of his long strokes.
When her gaze clashed with his, she expected his expression to be fierce—instead, he was looking at her so tenderly that it took her by surprise, shoving her right to the edge of her next release.
She threaded her fingers with his, pressing their palms together.
“Come with me,” she said. As her back bowed and she arched up into him, Sanyu thrust into her hard and fast and gathered her in his arms, growling his own release into her ear.
They lay there panting in silence for several long moments, and when Sanyu finally lifted himself off her, she missed his weight.
She turned over on her side to watch the play of muscles over his back, behind, and legs, as he walked toward the bathroom.
“Should we shower?” she asked. “Together? Conserving water is important to me.”
Sanyu looked back over his shoulder at her and grinned wickedly, and Shanti decided she didn’t mind if the stew burned after all.
Chapter 14
The following morning, Sanyu traveled to the destination he’d had to look up in the palace directory like a visitor. He could have asked Lumu, but he realized he’d lost his sense of place not only in his own kingdom, but in his own home. When had he stopped exploring the outer wings? When had he given up on discovering new and exciting things every day?
Who had made him ashamed of that excitement? What had made his own home feel like a prison not worth exploring?
Sanyu was used to blaming himself for things, but he was pretty certain someone else had rooted those feelings out of him.
After going through a few back staircases and taking a service elevator, he entered a hallway that he was fairly certain led to the dungeons. The palace post wasn’t going to be on any sightseeing tours in Njaza, but neither was his wife’s bedroom, and that was the most interesting place in the country.
Sanyu heard the sound of machine guns spraying as he pushed open the door.
“Um. Your Highness? Sir? How—how can I help you?” The mail clerk, a stocky man with a lantern jaw, crow’s feet, and light brown skin, was clearly surprised by Sanyu’s visit to the bowels of the palace.
He’d been watching a film on his phone, which Sanyu had no problem with—there didn’t seem to be much else to do when sitting in what was essentially a cave with a few packages scattered around.
The clerk jumped to his feet, slipping his phone into the pocket of his loose pants, then beating at it until the audio stopped.
“I’m here because my wife seems to be having trouble with her packages,” he said in his most careful tone, hoping the man would calm down. Instead, the man began stepping nervously from side to side.
“Trouble? Did something get through?”
Sanyu’s brow furrowed more deeply. “She hasn’t been receiving packages and apparently they’re being returned to sender,” Sanyu said. “Do you know why?”
The man backed up a few feet until his back was against a shelf lined with plastic sorting bins. “I was told that all nonessential mail for the queen must be sent back, by order of the king. Of you!”
“Okay, calm down.” Sanyu had never imagined that life in the post office would make a person so easily excitable. “You’re saying you have orders from me to send her mail back?”
“To send her packages back to Thesolo. And to have the letters forwarded to the office of the Royal Council, where they’re passed on to the queen after examination,” the clerk swallowed. “As