Page 6 of Dirty Wild Sultan

“Well, well, well, look who showed up,” Zayed whistled, his grin widening and dimples appearing in his cheeks. The blonde who was on his lap, kissing his neck moments ago, stood up when he whispered something in her ear. Her cheeks flushed when she walked past me, closing the door of the only private room on the VIP floor.

Only royals were allowed here. Me, Khalid, Zara, and our closest friend, the Sheikh of Azmia, Zayed.

“Where’s Khalid?” I asked, sitting down and pouring myself a glass of whiskey.

Zayed kept grinning, and I rolled my eyes, swallowing the contents of the glass, the alcohol burning my throat. He was a year younger than me, similar to Khalid, so it was no wonder they were best mates. His dark curly hair fell over his forehead, charm exuding out of every pore of his tanned skin, his easygoing smile making both men and women envy him.

“He knew you’d come here,” he said, clinking the bottle of champagne with my empty glass and drinking straight from it.

“So you knew about the princesses?”

“Of course, it was my plan after all.” He gave me his shit-eating grin again and raised his brow. “So? What happened? Did you get laid, Your Highness?”

I gave him a deadpanned look.

Zayed pouted. “And here I thought you would like those princesses. Would you prefer a prince instead? I know a few.” His eyes twinkled at his own suggestion.

I looked away. Leave Zayed to know which princesses and princes were better in bed. “I am not into any of them. You know I am heterosexual. Quit being an ass.”

“And asexual by the way you reacted towards those twins.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, frowning.

He shrugged, “They told me. They were here moments ago with Khalid—”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I interrupted him. “And there’s nothing wrong with me being asexual. If I was asexual, that is.”

Before Zayed could reply, the door of the private room opened, and I saw my brother, red smeared over his neck and the collar of his shirt as he tried to fix his hair.

“You are a dickhead,” I said, greeting him.

Khalid straightened up hearing my voice and gave me a lazy shrug while he buttoned his shirt. Not realizing that the first two buttons were missing.

“I thought I was helping you out. Won’t happen again, big brother.”

“Sending two princesses to seduce me to have sex with them and marry them is not helping me out.”

Zayed looked between us when I stood up, “Okay, calm down, you two.”

I glared at my brother. “Stop interfering in my life, Khalid. I told you I don’t want to marry.”

He flared his nose at me. “And what is so wrong with that?”

I scoffed. “If you are so excited about marriage, then why don’t you get married?”

“You guys are fighting for no reason, for fuck’s sake,” Zayed mumbled, drinking champagne.

“Shut up, Zayed.” We both snapped in unison, glaring at him.

“I don’t need heirs, Zain, you do,” Khalid pointed at me. “Just marry someone and adopt a kid if you want to stay celibate. Don’t force it on me.”

“No one’s forcing you to do anything, Khalid!” I yelled. “No one has told you to do anything for Azmia since I became a sultan. I never once asked for your help.”

“Maybe it would be better if you did,” Khalid said, his eyes dilated.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You know why I can’t.”

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