Leeteuk smiled, please. He the long slender arch of her neck. Sora remained absolutely still as his fingers descended oce by one to each of the buttons on her shirt. It pleased him deeply that she was feminine enough to dispense with the unnecessary binding of a bra. He bent his head to slowly taste the pulse beating in and trailed downward on the opened vee, anticipating the heady pleasure of taking her within his mouth.

A knocking sound jerked Sora’s head up. Her eyes sought the door that at this moment remained closed, Leeteuk raised his mouth only slightly from the soft white skin beneath his lips.

“What is it?”

“Many pardons, my sheik,” Ali’s soft voice untoned behind the door. “A messenger has come from Riyadh.”

“Tell him to wait.”

“Sora tense in Leeteuk’s arms. The intrusion shattered the delicate, ephemeral balance of passion. She felt her skin pebble where the bedroom’s cool air touched all the places Leeteuk’s moist mouth had warmed and sensitized. His fingers rested at the waistband of her pants. She suddenly felt and exposed.

“It’s urgent my sheik.” Ali said. “The messenger is the king’s nephew.”

Sora was certain that Leeteuk’s undecipherable mutter against was an Arabic curse. He bent his head lower and kissed her through the fabric of her shirt.

“Show him to my study. I will be there directly.”

“As you require,” Ali replied.

With great reluctance, Leeteuk straightened. A wry self-mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth. “It appears I spoke too soon. My apologies for this interruption. The affairs of state may delay what it is to be, but they will never alter what is inevitable.”

Leeteuk pulled her back into the heat of his arms and left a kiss of such wild promise on her lips that Sora barely understood his departing words. "Allah keep you this warm and giving until my return.”