Dirty Wild Sultan by Mahi Mistry
Zain
Ihummed, burying my nose in the warm skin, taking a deep breath of the subtle scent of jasmine with something musky. Hair tickled my face, my hands gliding up the curve of soft skin. I squeezed the tenderness, opening my half-lidded eyes, and smiled.
Jasmine. That was the name of my wife. The beautiful brunette who was sleeping beside me. Her lips were parted as she breathed deeply, clutching the pillow and nuzzling her body towards mine.
A small smile made its way to my lips. It was three in the morning, white curtains flowing as the cool breeze swept into the room. Making sure not to wake her up, I shifted, pulling away from her, and stared up at the ceiling.
My thoughts were all over the place. I was conflicted, yet somehow relieved. I didn’t know why. But the reality that I slept with her, a stranger, was like being splashed with a bucket of ice water on a winter night. Twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t want to have sex. I was comfortable being abstinent all my life.
Yet, just one look at her. I couldn’t stop myself.
Something shuffled. I looked down and mentally groaned, running a hand over my face. I had to get hard at this hour.
Surely it couldn’t be because she’s beautiful. There was something familiar about her, but I had been seduced by the most beautiful princesses and daughters of sheikhs and royals in the past since the day I was crowned as the Sultan. Then why did I lose all my senses as soon as I saw her?
Her face looked so serene when she was sleeping. The taste of her musky feminine scent lingered in my mouth, and I hated that I wanted to wake her up and taste her again. I hated that I was so physically attracted to her. A stranger. I hated that I wanted to have sex with her again and again and again until I had my fill. But the one thing that I hated the most was that I might never have my fill after what had happened a few hours ago.
Is this how my father felt when he saw my mother in the market? Saw her, wooed her, and married her? Only to harm her years later because he wasn’t happy. Would I turn out just like him? Love someone and hurt them once I had enough?
How far does the apple fall from the tree?
“What are you thinking about?”
My eyes averted to the sultry voice of the woman staring up at me, her eyes half-lidded as she yawned, leaning closer. The subtle scent of jasmine wafted in my nose. I don’t know why I wished to tell her the truth.
“I was thinking about my father. How… angry I am at him for being him, if that makes any sense,” I said, my heart beat increasing waiting for her response. To laugh at my awkwardness and the fact that I was thinking about my father and my past when a stunning naked woman was sleeping beside me.
But she didn’t laugh.
Her deep brown eyes blinked at me as she nodded. “Yes… I understand what you mean. I have a terrible relationship with my father.” She grinned, poking my cheek with her finger, “In fact, you should be glad that I am angry at him.”
“I should?”
“Yes. That’s why I came to the club to drink and hopefully… you know.” She looked around, waving her hand. My eyes dropping to her breasts when the blanket slid down.
I hummed, reaching my hand out to touch them. Her eyes flashing towards me, no longer sleepy as she bit her lip when my fingers rolled around the hardened nub.
“At least we have hateful fathers in common,” I said, leaning down to kiss her neck, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, and urging her closer. I hissed when she palmed my length. The blanket pushed away as we both sighed and moaned, teasing each other.
“Turn around,” I whispered, my teeth grazing the shell of her ear.
Her eyes were wide with lust when she turned on her stomach, her arms and knees supporting her. My hands greedily trailed over her back, kissing the spine and fondling her breasts until she was bucking and moving back to have some friction. I spread her knees, settling myself between them.
“Zain,” she said, her voice full of need when she pressed her ass back towards me.
She didn’t need to plead again when I plunged myself inside her warm heat. The sounds of skin slapping against each other and our groans mingled together in the room. The air heavy with the musky scent of sex. I didn’t stop moving inside her, holding her hips, her neck, her hair, kissing her until we both were sated and exhausted from the release.
I held her close, rubbing my hand on her back as we both slept peacefully in postcoital bliss.
* * *
I didn’t planto wake up before Jasmine. Or whatever her name was. Watch the way her body was pressed against mine, her curves soft and inviting in the stream of morning sunlight that fell through the gaps of the curtains.
It was odd that I wanted to know things about her. Things like her favorite ice cream flavor. Which films she preferred. If she enjoyed horror or rom-com. If she was a night-owl or morning person. I wanted to wake her up and ask her.
Who are you? What do you do? Would like to go on a date—
Woah.
I sat up straight on the bed, my hand rubbing the little ache in my chest. Thankfully, she was still sleeping, her plum lips in a small pout as if she was angry at someone in her dreams.
Shaking my head, I got up, ignoring the loss of her warm body. I splashed my face with cold water and stared at my reflection. My hair was tousled, my eyes and face glowing. I traced the hickeys on my neck and collarbone with a small smirk. I had marked her body just like she had marked mine, and I wished I could wait and see how she would react to the indecent places I had left them.
But I knew I couldn’t wait. I had an important physical training session with my trainer for the men’s health column in a famous magazine and if I wasn’t present, then it would be covered in the interview and media article. I couldn’t tell them to reschedule it or Rahim would be disappointed in me.
As I got dressed, I thought back to Khalid’s words last night. How I had taken a few more glasses of whiskey than necessary just to spite him. I felt childish, as if I was getting scolded by my father and not my brother.
Shaking off all those thoughts, I picked up her clothes from the floor and placed them on the armchair near the bed. Placing an order for a full breakfast for her, I gazed at her gorgeous face one last time, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear before leaving the bedroom.
Taking a piece of paper I wrote,
You were an amazing fuck. Let’s not see each other again. Tootles xoxowith a little heart—
I am kidding. I am not a total asshole, I swear. Even though that is the exact sentence an asshole would say.
Instead, I wrote,
My lovely wife,
I apologize for leaving early without waking you up, darling. You looked simply too adorable, drooling on the pillow that I didn’t want to wake you up. Yes, I took a picture and no, I won’t delete it. Unless you wish to meet me again and ask me politely to delete it. Don’t forget to finish your breakfast and I hope I get to see you soon.
Like a true romantic that I am, here’s my email: zain.
Your handsome husband,
Zain
Folding it neatly, I placed it on the coffee table and left her room before I regretted doing anything else.