Page 29 of Dirty Wild Sultan

I nodded, knowing what she needed. What I needed. I pushed another finger inside her, stretching her as she groaned out my name against my neck. Nasrin arched her back, her legs trembling when I repeated my action. Playing with her clit, pressing against it while fucking her with my fingers. Her tight, velvety walls clamped around me, shivers of pleasure rolling down her spine as I held her close.

“Zain,” she moaned, her voice soft and breathy. Her eyes squeezed shut, her hips moving to meet the small thrusts of my fingers, thumb rolling over her clit.

I bit down on her nipple, sucking it in my hot mouth, groaning when she whimpered. Her sounds made me want to sin. The honeyed taste of her arousal tingled in my mouth, wishing I could pleasure her with my tongue and not just my fingers.

“C-close,” she gasped, her fingernails digging into my arms. “So close.”

I pulled back to lick and soothe the pinkish hue on her nipple, repeating my action on her other breast and curling my fingers inside her. She groaned, her body trembling as the pads of my fingers found the rough, sensitive spot I had read about. I noted her reactions and slowly did it again, her answering guttural moan assuring me to keep on repeating my actions.

“That’s it, Nasrin,” I breathed. “Come on my fingers.”

She closed her eyes. My own averting to the warmth of her dripping sex, her walls clenching my fingers, clamping them. Her swollen clit red with the overstimulation, her slicked lips welcoming my fingers inside her, stretching her until she cursed, making a whimpering sound.

I pushed her closer, ordering her, “Open your eyes, Nasrin. Look at me.”

Her auburn orbs peeked at me from half-lidded eyes, gold and dark brown dotting the surrounding crease of dark pupils. Her lips parted in a silent moan, her body thrumming with pleasure, easing with it when her orgasm reached its peak, her body tumbling over its edge.

I held her, watching in lustful awe at the beautiful woman, her golden skin rising with goose bumps when she came. Climaxed on my fingers, coating them with her glistening juices as I watched them disappear inside her, soothing her. Rubbing her back, I smoothed a few strands that had escaped from her bun, tucking them behind her ear when her body went through the aftershocks, a flushing glow radiating from her olive skin.

“So fucking beautiful,” I said, watching her body react to my touch.

I loved seeing her like that. Seeing a stunning woman like her come apart in my hands, making her reach her high, watching the heavy rise and fall of her breasts, flushed with her recent orgasm.

Nuzzling her neck, I breathed in the jasmine with the feminine, musky scent. “I think you have made me an addict, Princess,” I whispered in her ear. “I can’t seem to have my fill after watching you come apart in my hands.”

“Zain…” she hummed my name, the flush creeping over her arched neck and cheeks.

“I want to make you cum again.”

15

Nasrin

My core burned hearing him, my body heating underneath his gleaming obsidian eyes. I couldn’t believe that man. Sultan Zain Al Latif, my soon-to-be-husband, wanted to make me come again. It had only been a minute.

“I am too sensitive,” I breathed, my palm brushing over his arm and retrieving it from the bath.

He noticed the lack of my touch on his arm, which he had gladly allowed me to hold when he was fucking me with his fingers. I had to close my hands into a fist and stop myself from grabbing him by his neck and kissing him again. I missed the way his warm skin felt underneath my palm, the way muscles on his arm moved when he pushed his fingers inside me.

I eyed his stiffened dick and said, “What about you? I want to—”

“Maybe some other time,” Zain said, tilting his head as he stood up, looming over the bath. “Come on, the water has turned cold. I don’t want my fiancée to get sick.”

Fiancée.

My mouth parted, and before I could process what he had said, I followed his lead. I bit my lip at the sight of his dripping naked body, watching his muscles move and tense as he dried himself, wrapping a towel around his waist. He helped me up from the bath, my palm holding his large, calloused hand. His eyes didn’t waver from my face when water dripped down my bare body.

“Fiancée?” I managed to utter. “Since when?”

Holding a clean white towel, he said, “Since you climaxed in my hand and I had the taste of the sweetest sin.” His eyes darkened, lowering down my body, my belly tightening, curling at his scorching gaze.

“I didn’t know Sultan could be so crude with his words,” I said, my voice small.

I hated how his voice affected me. How his coal eyes made a liquid fire pool between my legs. How his beautifully rugged face made me want to wish I could see him between my thighs. I hated howheaffected me. I had never felt such utter lack of control when I was with someone else.

It was scary and thrilling.

Zain tsked at me, taking a step closer and patting my wet body with the dry towel as if we were having a casual conversation about the weather. “Only with you, my sweet wife,” he crooned, his warm breath brushing my cheek.

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