Page 174 of Bride By Coronation

I reach a high I've never known. Sweat beads on my skin. I don't stop thrusting until I have nothing left to give.

Our labored breathing is the only sound in the room.

I retreat from her mouth and try to calm my lungs as I study her.

She does the same, and we don't move for several minutes.

Someone bangs on the door, tearing us out of our trance.

Her green eyes widen, and she giggles.

I move my hand over her mouth, not wanting to cause a scene in Morocco and disrespect their modest culture.

There's another bang.

"Shh," I tell Fiona, slowly removing my hand and setting her on her feet. Once convinced she has her balance, I pull up and fasten my pants.

She adjusts her panties and dress. Then she frets, whispering, "Do I look okay?"

I glance at her flushed cheeks, plant a kiss on one, and reply, "You're gorgeous like always. Follow my lead."

She nods.

I check myself in the mirror, determine we look presentable, and open the door. "Excuse us. My wife wasn't feeling very well."

A woman steps back and shoots me a disapproving look.

I quickly lead Fiona past her and back to our table. We take our seats in the booth, and I slide my arm around her.

She curls into me, sliding her hand on my thigh.

Salambek appears with a tray, beaming. "You're back. The chef has prepared zaalouk, otherwise known as Moroccan aubergine salad." He smiles at Fiona and sets two plates down.

My bride's face lights with excitement. She gazes at the dish and breathes in deeply, stating, "Smells amazing! And I'm starving all of a sudden."

"Me too," I admit.

Salambek points to the meat and continues, "Slow braised lamb shanks with the chef's secret tomato-based sauce over couscous."

"Yummy," Fiona chirps.

"Can I get you anything else? Another drink?" Salambek asks.

"Yes. Another round, please," I answer.

"Great," he says, then shuts the curtains just as the woman from the bathroom passes and tosses us another dirty look.

Fiona wrinkles her nose. "I think she knows what we did in the bathroom." She tries to contain her smile but can't.

I chuckle. "She's just jealous."

Fiona's face lights up further. "Do you think?"

Another wave of giddiness hits me. I grin and motion to the food. "Try the meat. The chef makes the best lamb dishes in Morocco."

"Well, you know how much I love my meat," she teases.

I chuckle.

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