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
2ValeriaI couldn’t stop thinking about a certain Prince who smelled of whiskey and rich pine while I had dinner with my date. Brandon was the CFO of my company, and he had asked me on a date to the art show two weeks ago. I had agreed because it had been a long time since I felt intimacy of any kind. I wanted to try something, anything at all instead of moping around my house even on weekends.“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Brandon asked as I sat on his couch, making sure I didn’t bump with anything as I laid my cane beside me. “Yes, I am sure,” I replied. I didn’t drink. The last time I drank beer I was sixteen. Almost a decade. Ever since that incident, I hated alcohol. It made me nauseous. I could hear Brandon shuffling around his kitchen. My thoughts drifting to Khalid Al Latif. There was something familiar about him, especially how deep his voice was. Husky and masculine, it had made me very aware of how fast my heart beat pulsed when he had leaned closer. I
3ValeriaMy body quivered with an adrenaline rush when he ended the call. A giddy grin tugged on my lips as I let out fits of giggle, covering my mouth. “I can’t believe you just did that!” I remember how I had called him by his first name. A Prince! AhhhhhI fell on the sheets of the bed that felt like how I imagined clouds would feel like. Extremely soft and warm. My red hair splayed across the huge pillows where I planted my face and let out excited squeals. I was acting like a teenage girl who got asked out by her crush for the prom night. Not a twenty-six-year-old tycoon and founder of Delicate Dew, a perfume brand, I had started after graduating with a bachelor’s degree in business and no job offerings because I was visually impaired. “Valeria!” Startled by Benjamin, my loyal guardian, seeing me acting out like that made me roll over. Unfortunately, it caused me to tangle my legs in the blanket and fall over on the other side of the bed, causing a very loud thump as my head