by Olivia Gates
She screamed, her inner muscles squeezing his length in a fit of release. He rode the breakers of her orgasm in a fury of rhythm, feeding her frenzy. It went on and on until he felt her heart stampeding beneath his palm, saw her tears thickening, feared he might be doing her damage.
“Come with me…”
Her sob as her seizure continued around him broke his dam. He let go, buried himself to her womb, wished he could bury all of himself inside her, and surrendered to the most violent orgasm he’d ever known, jetting his essence into her milking depths in gush after exhilarating gush, roaring his love, his worship.
“Ahebbek, aashagek, ya Carmen. Enti koll shai eli.”
Carmen’s consciousness didn’t waver this time. The words exploding from Farooq’s lips had blown it wide-open. Blown her away.
I love you, I worship you. You’re everything to me.
She lay inert beneath his beloved weight, filled with him, with his roar, his words, their enormity mushrooming…
She felt him tear himself from her depths, pounce on her. “Ya Ullah, Carmen…breathe.”
But she’d forgotten how. He shook her and air rushed in, almost bursting her lungs. She heard his choking relief, felt his kisses scorch off her skin, heard herself croak, “You said…said…”
“Ahebbek? Aashagek? Amoot feeki? And I would die for you.”
“Stop, Farooq, stop…it’s too much, too much…”
“You are too much. Everything you are, everything you make me feel. There’s no one like you. You own me. Enti habibati el waheeda, hob hayati. Enti hayati. Ana melkek.”
You’re my only love, the love of my life. You are my life. I am yours. Too much. “But how…when…?”
“How can I not love you and only you? You are not tailor-made for me, you are created for me by God. As for when, from the first moment, and I fall in love with you again in every moment.”
“But I never dreamed…”
“I never dreamed a woman like you existed. But you do, and you’re mine as I’m yours.”
You can’t be mine. If you are, how can I ever give you up?
“Carmen, ma beeki?” The emotions turning his magnificent face incandescent dimmed. “You’re not happy that I…?”
He stopped, as if he felt her anguish, and it hurt him.
She’d never let anything hurt him.
She surged into him, buried him under a storm of kisses and tears. “I’m not happy, somow’wak. Happiness is an emotion mere mortals induce, but you…you devastate me, transfigure me, overwhelm me. No. None of that does you justice. I’ll have to invent new words to describe you, your effect, what you make me feel.”
He surged up, his face a display of all she’d attributed to him. “And you dare wonder how I love you? It took all I had, trying not to love you. All my struggles made me love you more, ya maboodati.”
She collapsed over him, weeping again. He now thought them tears of jubilation. As they were. Jubilation with an expiration date. “Oh, darling…what I feel for you…that you feel the same way…then you call me your soul and your life, and now your goddess…you’re messing with my life expectancy…”
“I’d give you mine. I’d give you all of it, ya habibati.”
She crashed her lips to his, silencing him. Every word, every expression on his adored face was impaling the spears into her deeper. She panted for mercy. “Habibi, er-ruhmuh…”
He crushed her to him, kissed her back as ferociously, inundating her with his euphoria until emotional passion caught fire and they were fighting for a faster descent into delirium.
It was dawn when the impetus of their hunger was satisfied. She lay cocooned in his strength, his cherishing arms. His love. It was still, would always remain too huge to encompass, that she inspired the same emotions, the same devotions in him.
But she didn’t have always with him. She’d known that from the start. At first, because he was out of reach. Now, he was within reach, but would soon drift out of it again. But, like before, she’d think of the price later. She had now with him.
He rose above her, swept her with caresses, his love flaying her with its beauty, its power. “Hayati, whenever you feel ready, I want you to stop birth control. I can’t wait to give Mennah a brother. Or a sister. Hopefully both.”
She smiled at him, went through the motions until he wrapped himself around her, his hands caressing the abdomen he was certain would soon swell with his child again.
She waited until his breathing evened in sleep, then let his dreams detonate inside her, pulverize the now she had with him to ashes.
It had been three weeks since Farooq had confessed his love, asked her to stop birth control. She still hadn’t confessed that she really didn’t need it this time.
She couldn’t cut her time with him short. She’d remain with him until he left her to take a wife who would give him more children. Give Mennah siblings…
Her phone rang. Thinking it must be a wrong number, she snapped it up to reject the call. No one but Farooq called her on this number, and he was in the shower.
Something made her press the answer button.
“Ameerah Carmen?”
Carmen’s stomach lurched with instant dread and revulsion.
She remembered that androgynous voice. Tareq.
He went on, not waiting for an answer. “I’ll get to the point. I want to meet with you.”
She found her voice. “No.”
“Don’t be so quick to refuse. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Thank you, but again, no. Goodbye, Prince Tareq.”
He gave up the polite act, flayed her with malignancy. “You and your bastard daughter were the only thing standing between me and the throne. But not anymore. Your days as princess are numbered. I would still have offered you a generous settlement if you left now so that I could claim the succession sooner, but now I’ll wait until my cousin throws you away as the useless tramp that you are. Yes, I investigated you, found out your…medical history. So it’s goodbye to you, ya somow’el Ameerah. And good riddance.”
She hurled the phone away as if it was a scorpion, and ran.
Ameenah. She had to find Ameenah.
“Carmen…” Farooq called out after her as he came out of the bathroom. But she’d already closed the door.
His blood stirred again at the idea of catching up with her. But he had to put something on before he pursued her.
Huffing in frustration, he noticed her brick-red phone, their “hotline” phone, on the bed. She never went anywhere without it…
Something unfurled in his gut as he picked it up, accessed the call log. All his number. All but one.
He pressed the dial button. On the first ring a man answered.
“I knew you’d change your mind.”
He terminated the call. Tareq.
She’d been talking to Tareq.
And he’d said, Change your mind. About what?
What did it mean?
He exploded to his dressing room. He must find her, talk to her. He wasn’t letting Tareq, or doubts, come between them again.
“What’s Tareq’s story?” Carmen closed the door behind her and Ameenah, still struggling with the agitation of her brush with Tareq. “Why was he bypassed for Farooq?”
Ameenah looked up at her out-of-the-blue question. “Tareq was never named crown prince, even though, with the deaths of both of King Zaher’s younger brothers, he was first in line. When King Zaher said he would bypass Tareq for Maolai Farooq, Prince Tareq called in all the favors his greatly loved late father had with the most influential members of the Tribune of Elders, to pressure the king into changing his choice. So, King Zaher resorted to a measure no one would contest—making Maolai Farooq his crown prince in effect, but saying he would give the title to his own male child, when he had one. However, our queen is too old to be that child’s mother, so to have an heir, the king would have to take another wife.”
Carmen frowned. “Why was that a problem? Polygam
y is sanctioned in Judar.”
Ameenah made a gesture unique to the region, one signifying yes—but. “It has strict rules and requires the consent of the first wife. A consent she gave. But the Aal Masood’s, especially their kings, are monogamous, and King Zaher couldn’t do that to his queen, even to stop Tareq’s rise to the succession.”
“Tareq has a lot against him, huh?”
“Among many of his excesses, he is said to…favor, uh, boys…”
Whoa. A pedophile. “Then I’m surprised there was ever any problem in bypassing him. I’m surprised he wasn’t stoned.”
“He would have been, if his guilt was proved in a court of law. But his connections in the Tribune of Elders prevented that. He then declared he’d be the first king of Judar who never married, couldn’t care less who the throne went to after him. That won him the Aal Shalaan’s unwavering support and protection. It was then that King Zaher came up with what would assure Maolai Farooq of securing the succession, a requirement no one could contest—having a wife and a child as proof of stability and commitment to family.”
Her breath caught. “When was that?”
“Just over eighteen months ago now.”
Just around the time she’d walked out on Farooq.
Realizations piled up inside her head.
The king wouldn’t have made this decree if he hadn’t been confident Farooq would be married at once. Farooq could have had a suitable wife lined up…but no. He wouldn’t have been wasting time with her when he should have been securing a marriage to protect the throne from Tareq. That meant one thing.
He’d been about to offer her marriage.
Maybe even the same night she’d left. And unknown to both of them, her pregnancy would have clinched the succession at once. But she’d walked out. And Tareq had helped her disappear.
It all made sense. “What happened then?”
“Prince Tareq married at once, into the only family of the Aal Shalaans who would take him. But his wife didn’t conceive, and it was rumored he was undergoing fertility treatments. Then she did get pregnant, twice, but miscarried and was diagnosed with a condition that would make it impossible for her to carry a child to term. Tareq divorced her, and he’s now married another.”
“But why? The succession is already Farooq’s.”
Ameenah winced. “He’d gotten the Tribune to amend the king’s ruling. Now a male child is needed to settle the succession.”
So that was why Farooq wanted—no, needed a male child, at once. And he must be secure thinking she was probably pregnant by now, had no reason to suspect she was damaged, barren…Oh God.
She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t bear to. But she had to do what she’d known needed to be done. Retreat from his life.
Before it was too late…
Carmen had gone out, had taken her car and banned her guards from joining her. He’d waited for her to come back, refusing to jump to conclusions again.
She came into their quarters, pale, subdued. He went to her, tried to take her in his arms. His heart squeezed when she avoided them, dread rising as she stumbled to the far side of the room, overlooking the sea.
Then she said, “I want a divorce, Farooq.”
And there was nothing left. In existence. In him.
She wasn’t finished. “I—I beg you not to let this affect Mennah, that you’ll let her have her mother.”
He discovered many things were left. There was agony and disillusion and despair. There was a woman who’d conquered him, who’d taught him the meanings of unity and destiny and bliss, only to gut him and throw him into hell.
“What is Tareq paying you? How is he making you do this to me?”
She jerked at his accusation, her shoulders shaking. Was she crying? Shocked?
She must be. Now she’d turn, explain this insanity away…
She turned. “It doesn’t matter, Farooq. Just let me go.”
No. No. He’d only accused her to hear her denial, would have believed anything she said. But what she’d said implied her guilt.
He advanced on her, sanity draining in every step. “If you can side with a criminal like Tareq when I made you my princess, gave you my love, myself, I can’t trust you near Mennah.”
Horror shredded her numb mask. “No. You know I’m a good mother…please…I’ll do anything if you let me stay near her…”
He hit bottom, knew he’d do anything to hang on to her. Even use Mennah. “You want Mennah, you remain my wife.”
“But I’ll never give you more children,” she shrieked.
“Why?” he thundered. “Because you won’t sleep with me now that your mission is accomplished? Now that you broke me?
It was she who broke down, heaped to the floor. Her anguish pummeled them both. The moment he could move, breathe, her broken whisper paralyzed him again.
“I had endometriosis. Was declared infertile by a dozen specialists…Steve divorced me because I couldn’t provide an heir to his family fortune. That was why I thought it safe to make love without protection…why I ran from you to protect my miracle baby. After I had her my condition became crippling and I couldn’t afford the endless procedures and the incapacitation when I had to take care of her. This scar is not only from my C-section. It is where I had a hysterectomy.”
He staggered, the bolt of horror almost felling him. He clutched his head. “Ya Ullah, ya Ullah…”
Horror became panic as Carmen withered before his eyes. She’d misunderstood, was staggering up, stumbling away.
He caught her, tears he’d only ever shed on his father’s and mother’s graves scouring his face.
“Stop wasting time on me, Farooq,” she wailed. “You might have jeopardized everything because of me already. But I didn’t know, or I would have told you, risked anything, even seeing this look—oh God—tears in your eyes…”
“You think it’s sadness for myself? It’s all for you, for what you went through without me by your side, what you lost, what you might not have lost if I was there, giving you all the time and support to explore treatment options. I am agonized, for your agony and absolutely unfounded insecurities. You are more than I dreamed to have. I would have chosen you even if you hadn’t given me Mennah. I do choose you, over the world.”
“You can’t,” she screamed. “I thought I’d have more time with you, until you married the Aal Shalaan bride, but now you must marry any woman who can give you a male child before Tareq.”
“You know everything…ya Ullah…” he choked.
Her nod was a quake. “That’s why I didn’t defend myself, so you’d leave me at once, while there was time to beat him to it.”
“You’d do that for me? Paint yourself black…”
“I will do anything for you. You are my life. But I beg you, don’t force me to stay near you, to see you in another woman’s arms, see her get big with your child…”
She collapsed by degrees, clinging to him, ending up at his feet, racking sobs tearing her apart.
He stood paralyzed, a vise clamping his chest and back. This had to be how men lost their minds, had strokes and heart attacks. Being accosted by pain too big to encompass, loss too huge to endure. But no, he’d never lose her. Never.
“Carmen, ahleflek ya maboodati, I swear to you…”
What would he swear? That he didn’t need a male child? That all she’d said wasn’t true? It was. But it didn’t have to be.
He swooped down, swept her up in his arms.
It was time to change a few truths.
“Carmen and I will not have more children, ya Maolai.”
Farooq had been about to demand an immediate audience with his uncle when the king beat him to it. He’d taken Carmen with him. Now she stood squirming in his hold, looking everywhere but at their king, who had eyes only for her, the new daughter he’d gained.
“I refuse the demand of providing a male heir for the succession. You must, too, or you’ll be succumbing to Tareq’s manipulation and to outdated
notions. You yourself have no sons, and you are the happiest man I know with your wife and the daughters she gave you. You only worry about the succession because Tareq would make a disastrous king. I don’t have that to worry about. I have my brothers as my successors, and I’m sure their children, when they one day have them, will be worthy successors, too.”
Still casting his tired yet affectionate and compassionate gaze on Carmen’s bent head, the king said, “That’s why I summoned you. I gathered the Tribune to debate the male child criterion. I reminded them a wife and child were proof of stability and responsibility, that the gender of the child is irrelevant and that we all know who between you and Tareq is king material. Things were up in the air until your latest intelligence on Tareq checked out as we convened. I presented the damning evidence but couldn’t secure consent to a trial. I settled for banishing him from Judar and stripping him of his titles and wealth.”
Still not daring to breathe, Carmen looked up at Farooq, who was clutching her as if he were afraid she’d dematerialize.
This meant…she had more time with him.
The king went on. “Now the succession is forever settled, you, my son, have to do your duty. I’m more sorry than I could express to ask you to do something I never could. But it’s time for you to enter the marriage of state the peace treaty with the Aal Shalaans demands. I hoped we’d find another way, but it turns out King Atef has a daughter he never knew about from an American lover.”
His gaze on Carmen grew more pained. “I know how painful this is, my daughter, but these are dangerous times, and if you love Farooq and have come to care for Judar, you’ll consent to his second marriage.”
“I—consent…” she rasped, tried to jerk free. Farooq’s grip tightened. And she cried. “Just let me go, Farooq. Everything will be okay when I’m out of the equation.”
Farooq clutched her harder. “I will never let you go, not in this life, and if I have any say, not in the next.” She shook her head, splashing their arms with tears. “I never gave you a mahr, ya rohi. I couldn’t decide on anything to do you justice. I just did.” He turned to his uncle. “Maolai, I’m abdicating the succession to Shehab.”