The next night came too slowly for Maryam. All day she worked in the royal library, translating old scrolls, but her mind kept drifting back to Khalifa’s thick c**k stretching her, his deep groans, the way he filled her until she couldn’t think. By sunset her panties were damp again. She hated how easily her body betrayed her.
When the servant arrived with the summons, Maryam’s heart leaped. She followed without question, dressed in a flowing emerald silk robe that whispered against her curves.
This time he took her to the moonlit rooftop garden. Palm trees swayed gently in the warm desert breeze. A low marble platform covered in soft cushions and silk drapes waited under the stars. Khalifa stood there in loose black trousers, chest bare, his golden skin glowing in the lantern light.
He
