Her cinnamon-colored hand looked so odd when pressed against the alabaster skin of his back, surprisingly cool in the hot desert night. Their limbs tangle together as they each fight for dominance over the other. Neither cried the other's name as they reached their peak, nearly simultaneously. Both knew this would never last, it was simply a release.
They dress, not even acknowledging the other or what they had just done. She will go back to her palace and loving husband, he to his citadel and familiar. When having to face each other they will fight and he will go home defeated; already coming up with a new, more devious, plan for conquering the seven deserts.
It was something both could enjoy that didn't leave either of them with too many unexplainable bruises and bit marks. Neither could remember how it all started, just that it was after he tried to take over the streetrat's body. She knew what they were doing was wrong, but she just couldn't resist–couldn't bring herself to care. For just a few minutes the Princess of Agrabah and the Lord of the Black Sands were equals.
Bring me to Life by EvilIncarnateForever