26Zain“What other crimes have you committed?” I asked, the dim light of the prison casting a yellow shadow on Hamid Elbaz’s bruised face. The stench of sweat, blood and something rancid coated the air, making it hard to breathe. These dungeons, under the palace of Azmia, were used by our ancestors during the wars to keep the prisoners, and we had kept them just in case we had to use them again. Khalid didn’t want him to sit or sleep, but I had been merciful to allow him a chair and sleep and food. “I already told you,” he rasped, his voice scratchy. He tried to move, but his hands were tied behind the chair and his ankles to the legs of the chair. The interviewer shuffled forward, scared of me and my brother more than the person who sat in the chair. “Right.” The man cleared his throat and fixed his tie. “Can I start now?” “He is all yours,” Khalid drawled, sliding his hands in his pockets and watching the interview take place. It had been four days, six hours and forty minutes
27Zain“Why did you wake us up so early?” Zayed yawned, his hair all over the place as he entered the study wearing pajamas, with bananas all over them.We all stared at him. Me, Khalid, Zara, Rahim and our grandmother. Only he was the one wearing pajamas, while all of us were dressed up, ready for the day.“It’s ten in the morning,” Zara deadpanned. “Is it?” He looked out of the balcony to see the sun and squinted his eyes. “Yes, it is.”“As I was saying before Zayed interrupted us. I want to bring Nasrin back and by the way I treated her, she is mad at me,” I announced. “She definitely hates you,” Zara agreed, nodding her head. “Probably punch you when she sees you.”Everyone murmured their agreement while I gaped at them. “That doesn’t help me.”“We are not here to tell you pretty lies, Zain. You fucked up and you are owning your mistake,” Khalid said, and rolled out the map of Azmia and Maahnoor. Rahim helped him with pointing out the capitals and making a red circle where our p
28Nasrin“It’s okay,” Zain lied as his eyes met mine briefly before he dived, my heart lurching in my throat at the sight of him falling down. I glanced down, watching him run in the empty hallway and turned back, hiding the bottle of the perfume when guards stormed in my room. I couldn’t believe that he was here. His scent of cologne lingered in the air. I answered numbly to the guards, pointing towards the gardens when they asked me where the Sultan of Azmia was hiding. Please be safe. Zain was here, and he had confessed that he loved me. I love you. I never knew such a sweet sound existed until I heard him whisper those words. He came all the way from Azmia to my room to sneak me away back to Azmia, and I hadn’t even given him a proper reply before he left. “They found him near the gates!” The guards shouted, making me snap my head at them. Zain would be as good as dead if the guards of Maahnoor found him. They were angry with Azmia for taking my father as hostage when he came
29Zain“God, I am so tired,” Nasrin whined, stretching her limbs in the rumpled sheets of the bed. I smiled proudly, pouring a glass of water for her. “Feeling better, wife?” I purred, trailing my hand towards her naked breast before she smacked it away. “No. You have the stamina of a horse. Give me a breather, Zain.” She winced when she sat up, looking down at her lap that was covered in a thin sheet. “We have been locked inside this room for three days.”“And it’s still not enough for me,” I said, handing her the glass. “Insatiable.”As soon as we returned to Azmia, we had a small celebratory dinner with our family where we went through the tale of my wife saving my ass. Everyone was happy except the council, but I could deal with them later. I was glad that even her brothers had accepted me as their own. Since that dinner, I had announced to the guards not to knock at the door unless they wanted their arms cut off. So, I had spent days, afternoons and nights worshipping her bo
EpilogueZain“Zain, I…” she moaned, her legs quivering with pleasure when I licked her soaking pussy. “Shh, be quiet, Nasrin,” I whispered, holding her thighs and standing up.She looked at me over her shoulder, “It’s your fault if we get caught.” I smiled and shook my head at my wife who was bent over the desk of my study, the expensive dress pulled over her waist. I lowered the zipper of my pants and said, “You are the one who told me you needed me inside you while we were greeting our guests. I just obliged the request of my beautiful sultana.” Her cheeks flamed hearing me and she pushed her hips back. “Yes, I need you inside me, Zain. Please, hurry.” “Try to be quiet,” I said, wrapping my hand around her hair and sliding inside her warm heat in one slow thrust. We both groaned at the pleasure of our union, her tight walls clenching my length tightly when I slowly fucked her. I pulled at her hair, kissing her lips when I slammed inside her, swallowing her moans as people mingl
UnknownThe man in the black suit entered, locking the doors behind him. I eyed the scar on his forehead, leaning back on my chair and clenching my jaw. “So?” I asked, trying to hide the anger in my voice. He didn’t dare to ask me to sit down, he knew I might reach for the blade and slit his throat. That’s what I did to the last man I had sent for my mission, anyway. He had failed, and I needed to show them just how much displeased I was. How they had failed me. No one dares to do that. “Someone from the guards caught the poison, Sir,” he said, his deep voice turning into a stutter. “I-I don’t know how but they are blaming the cook.”I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes. I didn’t say anything for a few moments. The air thick and tense in the room. “For now,” I whispered, standing up and buttoning my suit. “W-what?”“They are blaming the cook for now, you shit.” I glared at him. Grabbing his collar, I sneered, “This is why I told you to poison the water, not the food.” I pushed hi
Explicit Bonus SceneNasrinZain shouldn’t look ridiculously hot in a crisp shirt and pants. But he did. Licking my lips, I eyed my husband across the desk in his study as he talked to some chief from the council about the import and export of the exotic fruit. I was too busy stripping him out of his clothes and demand him to fu—“Stop staring at me like that, Nasrin.” His delicious, deep voice stirred me out of my dirty imagination. I looked at his stern, tired face and pouted, leaning back on the chair. My palm sliding down to caress the little bump on my stomach. I was three months pregnant and knowing the due date, we might have conceived on the same desk he was working on. “I will keep staring at you however I want, Zain,” I said, standing up and walking towards him. “You are my husband and my Sultan, I can look at you however I want.”He raised his eyebrows when I settled myself in his lap, sighing on his shirt and feeling much better in his strong embrace. “Feeling needy, a
FILTHY HOT PRINCE PART ONE“Can I kiss you, Khalid?” 1KhalidI lounged on the blue velvet armchair as if it was my obsidian throne. Lifting the fragile China cup to my mouth, I took a sip, relishing the burn of whiskey from the half empty bottle before the interview started. I already had the half bottle before the art show started and needless to say, I was tipsy as fuck. “What’s the inspiration behind your paintings?” She asked, the cameras zooming in on my face. I answered with a straight face. “Suffering and fucking.”The female interviewer turned into a flustered mess, people whispering to each other as my agent glared at me, imitating as if he was slicing his throat. He either meant he wanted to die or wanted me to cut it out. I gulped down the whiskey from the cup. I couldn’t care less what the art critics had to say about me or the interview when it airs. I was Khalid Al Latif. A Prince and an artist. If they didn’t want my honest answers, they could go fuck themselves wh