King of Durabia

by Naleighna Kai

  “Rashid, give us a minute, please.”

  He looked to Kamran who said, “I will be out shortly.”

  Ellena’s mind filtered through a range of scenarios. She did not want to lose him, but she also did not care to become a stranger in a faraway land. “You are able to come to the States from time to time?”

  Kamran placed his back against the door. “No.”

  “So, if I leave my information you can’t come to me in America?”

  “No,” he said, gaze narrowed as realization dawned. “I am the Royal Advisor to the ruling Sheikh of Durabia. I am not allowed to leave Durabia at any time. The punishment for doing so would be harsh.”

  “Then we have no choice,” she said in breathy voice. She slid off the tunic, leaving only a silky undergarment in place. She lowered the strap until one nipple was exposed.

  Kamran tore his gaze away, released a steady stream of breaths before a string of what she perceived as curses in Arabic left his lips. “Ellena, do not do this,” he pleaded. “Not until you are my wife. And if you are not staying …”

  She moved forward. “Do you know the words that will join us in matrimony?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Allah will know what’s in your heart and mine. The Sheikh already sanctioned our marriage. This will be one that is ours, not anyone else’s. Speak the words. Now.”

  He tilted his head, peered at her a moment, then said the words in Arabic, had her repeat the necessary ones. Then she moved towards him.

  “Under the eyes of God, under the eyes of the laws of Durabia, I, Ellena Marie Kiley, accept Kamran Ali Khan as my husband,” she said in a sure, strong voice.

  “And I, Kamran Ali Khan of the House of Maharaj, accept you, Ellena Marie Kiley, as my wife.”

  Ellena was in his arms, and he held her so close she thought she would shatter under the weight of his need. Then she looked up at him and Kamran gave her a small smile. “For now, we have no choice but to join this way,” she said. “With a woman who is willing to be yours completely. And a man who has demonstrated his love just by being who he is. If this one night is all we have … then let’s make it last forever.”

  Kamran scooped her off her feet, carried her to the draped, king-size bed and unveiled the other breast, drawing one bud between his lips. Teasing, tasting her before trailing his lips up the smooth curve of her shoulder, to the graceful lines of her neck, then following to the point of her chin that elicited a tiny laugh because of her sensitivity. Then he claimed her mouth, pressing one kiss, then another and yet another in quick succession, before parting her lips to heatedly explore the moist depths.

  She trembled beneath him, her thighs parted before gripping his outer thighs. She palmed his buttocks, pulling him close.

  Kamran gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Patience, my love. Patience.”

  The kiss deepened and her hold on him tightened as his hands stroked her body, first playing in those tiny locs before creating a heated path all the way to her belly, thighs, then feet, igniting a flame as though impressing every inch of her to memory.

  “Kamran …”

  “Patience.”

  Every touch was torture as he positioned between her thighs. This one night might be all they had for a long while. He planned to drink every drop of his delicious fill.

  At that moment she pleaded with him again, only then did he part her core and slowly entered that welcoming heat. The heavy warmth of arousal signaled the need to release his seed deep within. He shivered with the effort it took not to plunge into her with no regard for her pleasure. In a second, he remembered that doing so would bear no fruit. For an instant, regret filled him, for the children they would not have. For not having the pleasure of seeing their likeness or lifelines extended.

  If Allah granted him another blessing, besides keeping Ellena in his life, having a child would be the one he desired.

  “Kamran…”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “I need you to quit playing and do the damn thing.”

  “But I thought foreplay was …” Kamran’s eyebrow shot up.

  “Make love now,” she commanded. “Foreplay later.”

  He locked gazes with Ellena. Her expression was both a challenge and a dare. With one thrust he was in deep, so deep, a growl—primitive and powerful—came with it. Another prayer for his seed to stay put, allowing him to enjoy the moist heat of her. He strained with the effort and willed himself not to release. She reached down between them and made a ring of her fingers. Then she pressed at the base of his shaft and the need to release subsided.

  Kamran looked down at her. Her hips moved, and all thoughts escaped his mind. He joined her rhythm, extracting himself only to plunge into her again and again, then he halted.

  “Kamran…”

  “Ellena.”

  A kiss again joined them above as well as below. She pressed at his base once more, keeping his release at bay.

  “My God,” he whispered against her hair. “You are exquisite.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Minutes later, he reached the pinnacle of no return. From deep within, his seed burst forth in hard jet streams that shook his entire being. He held on to Ellena to anchor himself and keep him tethered to this world.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Did you just call on Christ?” she asked, several minutes later.

  Kamran inhaled, still reeling from his first intimate encounter in years. He glanced at her, smiling between breaths. “It was the best sensual experience I have ever had. But I am not changing religions.”

  Ellena winced, then threw her head back and laughed. The sound lightened his soul.

  “And, yes, I did see Harlem Nights. And I swear I saw the light, and you might have almost sent me to meet my Maker, but I promise you I did not call on the Christ to help me through that most amazing experience.”

  “Then I must not have been doing something right.” Ellena repositioned herself until she straddled his thighs, guiding him into her heat once again. “Let me give it another try.”

  Kamran gripped her hips as she rotated on him with torturous, slow motions. Then they quickened, and so did his breathing.

  Minutes ticked by, the pulse of heat at the base of his erection signaled another orgasm was eminent. His head reared back, a growl erupted before a sharp intake of breath. The exquisite sensations elicited a roar of pleasure that emerged as a bellow of blended pain and joy.

  Moments later, Rashid and Waqas were banging on the door to the suite. Kamran’s cell lit up with a flurry of texts and calls.

  “I believe they think you are in here causing my demise.”

  “Well, you need to go tell them something.”

  He swung his legs over to the side and froze. “I am not going to the door like this,” he protested. “I can barely feel my legs.”

  More banging.

  “So, you want me to stroll out there and let them see me all love-swept and disheveled.” She placed her hand on her forehead for dramatic affect.

  “You are such an actress.”

  Kamran wasn’t all the way out of the bed before Rashid and Waqas rushed in, eagle-eyed gazes sweeping the area.

  “Halt,” Kamran commanded before they made it past the dining room.

  “Sir, I … Oh …” Rashid stood ramrod straight. “Sir, please forgive me.”

  Waqas quickly averted his gaze.

  “You don’t know what screams of passion sound like?”

  Rashid stiffened under the weight of that query. “First of all, it was not a scream, sir. Second, yes I know what mine sounds like but in the years I have worked for you, I have never known what yours sound like.”

  “You could not think that Ellena was harming me.”

  “It is our business to make sure nothing untoward is happening in this suite,” Rashid said, trying to form a scowl. “You are still an unmarried man.”

  “Was that Dolly and Damaris I saw tip back into your sui
te earlier?” Kamran leaned in to whisper to them, quirking an eyebrow as Rashid’s complexion flushed with color.

  Waqas whispered, “My apologies, I—”

  “Good night, Waqas. Rashid.”

  “Yes sir,” Rashid said in a defeated voice. “We will stay right outside.”

  Ellena’s laughter floating from the bedroom caused their faces to redden.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Does she taste like chicken?” Amir taunted, adjusting his head covering.

  Laraib, Kamran’s next oldest brother, held his belly to contain himself as he said, “Maybe watermelon, yes?”

  Those vicious words from his brothers brought a range of laughter, guffaws, and chuckles from the men in the foyer of the throne room. Uncles, brothers, and cousins all found humor at Ellena’s expense.

  Kamran smiled at Amir and Laraib, who stood next to Nadeem one minute, then they were trying to pick themselves up from the marble flooring the next minute, while the men nearby gaped. The elegance of the cream walls and cushioned seating were at odds with the murmur of disapproval that erupted.

  “Tah-hathek You struck me?” Amir bellowed, trying to keep in a loose front tooth with one hand. His statement meant, may all of your luck be taken away. When he was the one who needed it right now because Kamran was ready to tell him “Tozz Feek”—screw you and the camel you rode in on.

  “Just wondering,” Kamran said, glaring down at the man. “Did that taste like victory or did it taste like defeat?”

  Umar, Kamran’s younger brother, moved in to help Laraib from the marble tiles.

  “You would strike them over a woman?” Uncle Sufian said.

  “Yes, I would,” Kamran confirmed, squaring his shoulders. “But he had better be glad I did not kill him for an insult to my wife. That is a lesson everyone in this room will need to learn.”

  “You are not married yet,” Salman said through his teeth. Yet another brother who was the spitting image of their father.

  “Father sanctioned it and in the eyes of Allah, we are. I would love for you to test me on that score.”

  The silence that met that threat was almost an entity unto itself.

  Kamran stepped away from Amir, who still couldn’t manage to stay upright.

  “I cannot control what is said when I am not around, but in my presence, if you even think about slighting Ellena in anyway, I will give you plenty to think about and even more to recover from.”

  “She is not even a national,” his brother, Nadeem, snarled. “You did not even know her nine sunsets ago. Where is this coming from? She has no value.”

  “She has no value to you,” he tossed back, closing the distance between them and causing his brother to retrace his steps to a safer place. “Neither does your own wife. What other reason do you have to portray a loving, doting husband within these walls, then grace the confines of El Zalaam outside and mate with girls who cannot even be presented in a legal marriage here?”

  Nadeem averted his gaze to some of the other men in the room. Ones who also indulged in the wicked, and often illegal pleasures that El Zalaam had to offer.

  “You know we do not speak of these things,” Umar warned, then he straightened to his full height, which was still six inches less than Kamran. “We are entitled to fleshly pleasures that will fulfill us. What good is having wealth if we are not able to indulge?”

  “Yes, it is written somewhere, defile yourself with a child and enter into the gates of heaven. I would love for you to show me where that is in the Qur’an.”

  Salman ignored that slight and peered at Amir. “How bad is it?”

  “I think two loose teeth,” Amir answered, his voice muffled by the effort to speak normally.

  “A broken nose, maybe?” Laraib replied, dabbing his nose with a tissue that Salman snagged from one of the servants.

  “You will pay for this,” Amir threatened. “And that Black wh—”

  Kamran’s eyebrow shot up and both hands balled into fists at his side. His stance caused Amir to quickly amend his words to say, “Woman, too.”

  “I have heard there was something called Black girl magic,” Umar said as he passed Kamran on the way to the entrance. “Perhaps she has bewitched you in some way.”

  Salman shook his head. “Or maybe since it is his first time with a woman after all these years …”

  “See, Kamran, you should have come with us to El Zalaam. Maybe then you would not be so tightly wound about a who—woman,” Salman also corrected, knowing that saying anything else would land him in the same position as the first two. “Who has no bearing on this family.”

  “And maybe if you all felt the same way about your wives as I do about mine, there would be enough respect to go around and no need for you to frequent places of ill repute.”

  “She is not even your wife,” Nadeem spat.

  Kamran’s mind filtered through the pleasures of last night all the way to morning and said, “She is, to me. And that is all that matters.” Kamran sauntered to the gold doors. “Remember what I said, and we will not have this discussion again.”

  He stepped over the threshold and moved from the foyer and into the throne room and an uncertain future. One where he would not be with the woman he had come to love.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Nine days, yes?” Sheikh Aayan said from his place on a golden throne. “And from what I hear you are going home?”

  Ellena’s gaze flickered to Kamran as she sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “It is a sad thing,” Sheikh said, his tone solemn. “My son seems so smitten by you.”

  “And I, him.”

  The Sheikh scanned the expectant faces of those situated around the room—wives, daughters, sons, brothers, and children over the ages of twelve. “Then why are you leaving?”

  “He sent word to me before I arrived that he asked you if we would be allowed to remain in the Free Zone and live there. We were denied.”

  The Sheikh’s expression turned dark. He was obviously insulted that someone would not desire to live in the most beautiful place in the land. “So, you are leaving because you do not wish to live in the palace? Are your living accommodations so much better than ours?”

  That question brought snickers and laughter from among the men in his family.

  Ellena stiffened and her chin went up, but she flashed a glance at Kamran, who willed her not to say anything that would prick his father’s pride, even if he deserved such a thing.

  “I have no wish to embarrass my beloved because I am not used to certain situations and customs.” She placed a hand over her heart. “If I say the wrong thing, it affects him. If I do the wrong thing, it affects him. I do not wish for him to be burdened with my ignorance and my fears.”

  The Sheikh considered her words for a moment. “Do you … love him?”

  Ellena eyed Kamran and smiled. “I did not think it possible, but yes, I do.” She put her focus back to the King. “He is such a pure soul and has such integrity.”

  One corner of his mouth curved in a grin. “And not bad on the eyes, eh?”

  A few peals of laughter and chuckles ensued.

  “Really? I didn’t notice it,” she teased with a sly smile and a shrug.

  The Sheikh raised his hand. All sounds subsided. “I am truly sorry that you are not willing to stay. But he is a Royal advisor and must remain on palace grounds, unless I am traveling elsewhere.”

  She nodded, then shared a glance with Kamran who winked. “I understand.”

  “The guards will escort you to the airport to join your friends.”

  Ellena made a slight bow. “Thank you for your kindness.”

  She gave Kamran a lingering look. He stared at her until she had no choice but to follow the guards.

  “Please give this to Kamran,” Ellena said, embracing Saba, who nodded and wiped away tears before accepting the slip of paper from Ellena. The woman had been such a blessing in the days Ellena had been in Durabia and it was obvi
ous she was rooting for something that would not happen.

  “Yes, Ms. Ellena,” she whispered. “Right away.”

  Ellena fell in step with the two men who flanked her. She glanced over her shoulder to the three men surrounding Kamran and gave Rashid, Saqab, and Waqas a nod of silent farewell. They gave her a slight bow and nod in return—even their eyes were sad.

  Midway on the path to Kamran, Sheikh Khan commanded Saba, “Bring that here.”

  Ellena whipped around, protesting, “That is a private note for Kamran’s eyes only.”

  “Nothing is private in my sheikhdom,” he countered, leveling a gaze on Saba. “Bring it to me.”

  Saba’s eyes widened as she shot a wary glance at Ellena, but had no choice but to do as she had been commanded.

  Sheikh Aayan tore open the envelope and scanned the card. “This is a wedding invitation.” He blinked twice, scowling as he scanned it once more. “Your own wedding invitation for a marriage between you and my son in the … United States?” His voice was almost a roar. “You would entice my son to permanently leave Durabia and live in America?”

  “No, Sheikh,” she replied. “The plan would be for him to find a way to visit America as often as you would allow to be with his wife. And I will visit Durabia as often as he can bring me here for me to be with my husband.” She spread her hands in humble supplication. “You gave me a precious gift. I am not refusing this gift. Not at all. Since, I am not able to remain here, I’m merely finding a different place to open it. Surely, you can’t fault me for that?”

  Sheikh focused on the invite for several moments, then looked at her, then threw back his head and laughed. The tension in the room eased with his mirth.

  “And you know I would not allow such a thing,” the Shiekh said in a tight voice, then focused in on his son’s face. “You would … you would defy my wishes to accept such an invitation without approval, my son?”