Neeth found her courage somewhere between Arsinoë’s movements and moved a little closer, enveloping him with her slender body and ultimately positioning herself behind Assou. Her legs emerged to his sides while her hands pushed aside her partner’s torso to claim the tjati’s chest. With a certain wilfulness, she pulled him back and Assou surrendered to the fall.

Leaning back, he found support against Neeth’s almost flat chest. Her fingertips stroked along his torso, playing around the areolas that triggered slight tingles in his senses with each touch. Pleasure coursed through his body as the grip around his penis tightened and the friction became more present.

The woman at his side intensified, slowly but steadily, as if she were following an intricate plan. Her eyes stared him down. Assou studied her, her smooth body and also the flaws that weren’t flaws, but stood out for him. Her far too narrow hips made the touch of her body bony, and knowing there was more out there than that made him turn his gaze to Maathorneferure. To a woman who kept her chin tucked while the smile on her lips betrayed satisfaction.

The gold shimmered in the candlelight and her graceful pose reminded him that there were things he couldn’t have; things that were far away. Just as far away as Fatrada, whose smile bloomed inside him as her slender body beneath the airy clothes invited to long nights.

If he closed his eyes, he could see her, smell her, perceive her, as in the moments when he bought her wheat. His hands settled against her chest; soft resistance that welcomed him.

The brief shiver that overcame him was too weak to compete with the heat of his body and it took little more than a breath before he was aware of the blood between his legs pooling. The erection overcame him in disagreement with what he wanted and what he was being given. Surrounded by two women he didn’t desire, watched by a queen who could give him anything, and haunted by memories of love, his body reacted to everything and nothing. His muscles twitched. He had to stir, move, do something. Waiting for an end in the arms of these slaves was the closest thing to eternity – time he didn’t want to waste. Instead, the tjati grabbed the woman at his side by the shoulders and yanked her aside so she fell backwards into the fabrics with a brief hiss. He allowed himself to be swept along by the momentum, disengaging himself from Neeth’s chest and swinging over the slave’s body, her breasts resting heavily on her all at once.

A grip on her thin thighs made her spread her legs as her hands clawed at the fabric as if it were a saving shore. Assou let the tips of his fingers travel along her thighs to place his thumbs against her entrance. For a fleeting moment, then he penetrated her with a thrust.

Moisture pressed against him, while the tightness of her interior allowed almost no intrusion. But his hips were stronger than her resistance. He slid forward until he could go no further and the heat of another became part of him. Sighing, she rolled under him as Neeth joined them, taking a seat wide-legged above them. Her fingers settled between her labia. Assou watched her, mesmerised by the movements of certain limbs that disappeared between her lips only to emerge again, shining. Simultaneously, he felt his hips respond. They had surrendered to enough rest, desiring to do something, to feel something, to savour the sensation that gripped his cock.

He thrust – once, a second time – finding a rhythm he could follow without the effort straining his pelvis too much. Hands firmly on Arsinoë’s thighs, he directed her slightly to the side so that one of her legs wrapped around him while the other lifted over his shoulder. Her head turned to the other slave’s crotch, letting her move closer to her vagina, and for a moment Assou thought he could smell the pleasure she was absorbing.

Arsinoë didn’t hesitate for long, wrapping her arms around Neeth’s lower body and moving her head further between her legs. The tjati could barely see it, but part of him thought he saw her push her lips against her labia before her tongue followed the glistening line to the ass. Arsinoë’s pleasurable sigh settled delightfully against Assou’s skin, bringing her high yet fragile voice to the fore. He wanted to follow her, to taste the desire on her tongue as the sound of earthly instincts lingered in the air.

The friction against his cock tempted firmer thrusts he could feel in his bones. Sweat strengthened the bond between him and Arsinoë’s soft brown skin. In some seconds, they were one, only to be torn away in others. In the eternally same beat that also snatched scattered sighs from him. They rolled over his lips, dried them out, and whenever he attempted to wet them with his tongue, he tasted salt. Yet he wanted to taste Neeth much more.

It was an urge Assou couldn’t resist as he withdrew from Arsinoë all at once and grabbed her by the hips. It didn’t take much strength to push her aside in one move and turn attention to Neeth.

Her body winced as he reached her in order to settle on his stomach in front of her and get closer to the smooth skin between her legs. Viscous water escaped her and Assou didn’t hesitate a moment longer to put his mouth to her flesh and suck on her lips. Sweetness spread across his tongue, joined by a note he couldn’t associate with anything. It was delicious, though not comparable to the charm of a date.

Without further ado, he pushed in deeper, feeling his way forward with his tongue to burn every inch into his senses as Arsinoë placed her hands on his back and massaged his shoulders with vigour. Her touches gave the fantasy a push, carrying him off into the arms of a woman he could taste as he pressed her body tightly against his.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Enough!”

The sudden command that reached him as if through cotton wool didn’t even make him look up. But the world that bound him shattered barely later. Neeth drew back. Her legs closed, her nails scratched his hands, causing him to let her go and Arsinoë’s weight faded as well. Both slaves gained distance. A few steps in which they took a breath before they regained their stance. Assou looked after them, gathering his thoughts, but realised far too late that he was still in Maathorneferure’s room.

Instantly, his attention swung in her direction. The smile was still on her lips and her gaze wandered only briefly to his erection before she tilted her head. “A stroke of bad luck, isn’t it? Wasn’t the time sufficient for you?”

Though his thoughts were still enclosed in a silent fog before him and the heat held a tight grip on his body, it wasn’t hard to see that she was mocking him. She was trying to underline her position. Maathorneferure possessed the power to give him what he wanted, only to take it away at the very next moment. She took pleasure in his unfulfilled lust, knowing full well that he wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on her. And yet it was laughable.

He was a man. He knew his body, and he knew how to end unpleasant situations. Without embarrassment, he reached for the cloth he had pulled down earlier to wipe the moisture from his cock. It was over. He couldn’t let himself fall any longer. His senses had to wake up and loosen up. An intention that gained clarity as he pinched his thigh.

Pain coursed through his loins. Not severe enough to elicit a reaction from him, but enough to rouse his thoughts as he pulled himself to his feet with a sigh. His erection sagged, loosening with each successive movement.

Maathorneferure had nothing on him, and the work that awaited him in his room was enough to banish lust to a small box in the back of his mind.

“I would rather say it was an acceptable pastime.” He shrugged. “Was that all?”

The only thing he could do was to not let on how the simmering heat was still building up inside him. The calm had relaxed his senses, but the restlessness still lurked in the corners. It shuddered over his body, clinging to his perception and making him smile at the same time. He would not play into her hands, no matter how far she went. Maathorneferure, meanwhile, lost her mockery. Instead, the corners of her mouth twisted as she stood up and let two slave girls put cloth around her shoulders.

“You seem to enjoy making fun of the gods.” She tilted her head and stared at him as if he would burst into flames at any second. But she was no goddess, of that he was sure. “Don’t you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Into a meaningless game,” he returned. “Do you really think it’s wise to count yourself as a deity when our gods could quickly take that as a taunt?”

Her jaw ground as she stretched her neck and looked down at him. Her size, so close to his body, was impressive. She knew how to intimidate and yet Assou felt he couldn’t take a step back from her. Not even when she reached for his face.

Out of the blue, sharp nails dug into his cheeks. She was quicker than he could ever have reacted. The smell of roses crept heavily into his nose, while her impenetrable gaze underlined haughtiness.

“Don’t you dare, Assou.” She called him by name. The brisk tone, the pointed sound that graced the beginning – no one had ever addressed him that way before. It was unlike anything he knew, combined with a mendacious devotion that shrieked in the ears and held the whiff of something foreign at the same time. So unfamiliar that he would have liked to listen to her a little longer, while the reluctance in him won.

Without further ado, Assou grabbed her wrists and forced her to release the steely grip. The scratch of her nails burned on his skin as she hissed at him. She tore away, glaring at him and wrinkling her nose as if it was an insult to have someone other than Ramesses touching her. But Assou didn’t allow himself to be distracted. Instead, he took two steps back.

“For a supposed goddess, you possess a strong temper. Are you sure your senses aren’t simply blinded?”

“You provoke war, vizier.” Gripping the cloth by the corners, she wrapped it tighter. Anger graced her face, abstrusely disfiguring this woman’s beauty. The crease of anger between her brows cut deep.

“War that you started.”

“So you want to make me the bad guy?” Silent laughter escaped her throat before she dared a step towards him. “Be sure that if you want to make me out to be the bad one, I will show you which of us knows how to fight a war best.”

“You sound like you’ve fought a war before, which would honestly surprise me.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked up at her blankly. “Yet your homeland is at peace.”

For a moment, she remained rigid. A little, as if she had misjudged the circumstances before she took a breath and gave him improper lightness. “You’re actually dumber than I expected.”

“Am I?” He had to stay calm, control himself. She was challenging his position, yet he couldn’t disagree – especially since he didn’t know what she was getting at.

“My homeland is at peace, just as Egypt is at peace. At least, if you look at the circumstances from the outside.” She put a finger on her full lips. “But tell me, can’t you see behind the curtain? I remember that not every war has to be physical.”

Without further ado, Assou pressed his lips together. Maathorneferure had caught him. He had wanted to mock her for talking about war without knowing the extent of it. Yet there were battles without weapons. Battles fought solely with words; with intrigues that women, on some days, controlled better than men. In those seconds, he had fallen straight into another of her traps. It was mistakes that made him human. Missteps that proved to her she was above him.

“I don’t recall any exchange of words we’ve had ever being grand enough to be traded as combat.” The only way to avoid her was to circle the base. “Or are you trying to tell me that your sad provocations were actually an attempt to get my attention for a battle you could never win?”

“We can find out,” she replied to him. “And when you have lost, I want to hear you say my name. Know that it will be the first and last time.”

Her name. The one they gave her before Ramesses renamed her. Sauškanu, the Hittite daughter who served as a peace treaty.

The monster of another land.