Chapter 31
Mariyah
F alasteen Market was massive and like everything else I’d seen in Touma, bloody stunning.
I understood why Kai had said we would need a separate day to look around and why my dad had been adamant that it was a place we had to visit.
Set in a massive plaza between cobbled backstreets and classy boutique shops on all sides, the open-air market had eight endless rows of stalls with everything anyone could ever possibly want, from food to shoes to classy knickknacks and collectable vinyl records. Between the stalls hung small bulbed fairy lights and stood streetlamps, and there were several benches and seating areas dotted around.
I imagined in the evening when the lights were on, it had a magical feel to the square, but with the bright blue sky and sun shining above, the colours of each stall were gorgeously intense. Thankfully, it wasn’t super busy, but there were several families and groups who seemed like tourists.
The four of us with all the security detail started off shopping together, but somewhere down the line, Esmeralda dragged Kai off in a different direction, and we parted ways.
Shehryar ensured all the security followed them, except one man from Esmeralda’s team, Yunis, under her instructions, stubbornly remained around him. He complained about it, disagreeing that he needed protection. But Yunis and I agreed that whether he liked it or not, he needed someone keeping an extra eye on him now that he was technically in the public eye.
I left them to bicker, smirking at the fact Shehryar had met his match with Yunis. But two sets of footsteps kept up with my pace as I headed to a stall of cute book vases to buy my sister something.
Expecting Shehryar to head in his own direction, I frowned when I found him walking next to me. “Why are you following me? Go your own way.”
He stared down his nose, and in his black-on-black jumper, jeans, and jacket combo, he looked even more severe than usual. “If I head my own way, there will be no security guard with you.”
“Uh, I think you’re forgetting that I’m just a normal person. I don’t need security.”
“You’ve been pictured with Princess Esmeralda and Prince Kai several times now,” he said, reverting to his professional, bossy tone. “You’re not just a normal person anymore.”
I wanted to argue, but he inconveniently had a point. “Fine,” I grumbled. “But don’t get in my way.”
Five additional bags later, I’d zigzagged through more than half the market stalls, walked off the lobster burger and wings I’d had for lunch, and bought myself and everyone in my family gifts, except for Mum’s tea.
I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but Shehryar had actually been decent company. We’d only argued once when we’d bought things from the same stall, and he’d tried to pay for my stuff. Otherwise, if we weren’t walking in a comfortable silence, we talked and bantered, and it was…fun.
But now my wrists and hands were hurting where the handles of all the bags dug into my skin, I was bloody hungry, and I wished I’d worn my trainers instead of black boots with my flare jeans.
I winced and lowered my arm back down, sliding the two bags that were digging into my skin under my coat sleeve down into my palm.
Shehryar hissed something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch. His hand latched around my elbow, dragging me to a stop as he glared down at my hands. “Give me the bags.”
I rolled my eyes. “This again? I’m fine, so can we keep going?” I wasn’t fine, but this was part of the shopping experience, and I was used to it.
“Give me the bags,” he growled, low and slow. “ Now , Mariyah.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. In arousal, not fear. That was his “I’m Daddy, don’t mess with me” voice, and fuck me, but my body was responding.
I thought about it, then grumbled, “Fine,” and eased the bags to the tips of my fingers.
Shehryar scooped them all out of my hands, then turned to Yunis, standing tall and vigilant two steps away. “Yunis, can you take these to the car, please?”
Wait, this whole time that was a possibility? Fucking Neves, I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.
“I don’t think—” the man started.
“We’ll be fine without you for ten minutes.” He moved towards the man. “We won’t go far, and you have my number already.”
Yunis sighed but took all the bags. “Okay, but please keep an eye on your phone.”
Shehryar smiled. “Thanks, Yunis.”
“Her Highness is never to hear about this.”
I scoffed at the man’s parting words as he headed back through the crowd the way we’d come. Then I glanced up at the giant dickhead. “Thanks,” I said reluctantly.
The line between his brows deepened. “If you hadn’t been so stubborn, I could have taken them from you an hour ago.”
I bristled under his scolding. “You know what? I take my thanks back.”
“You’re to give me all your bags from now on, is that clear?” he said with the authority of a king.
I grunted and shrugged one shoulder. “Fine by me. But don’t complain about it later.”
“What more do you need to buy?”
“Luckily for you, not a lot.” I ticked each item off on my fingers. “Tea for Mum. A couple of postcards for Dad to add to his collection. And some small decoration pieces for the wedding, preferably lanterns if we can find any. Oh, and I’m hungry, so food.”
Shehryar nodded to his left. “There was a tea seller a couple of stalls down.”
“Wait, what?”
We headed back some stalls in the next row and found a man with sacks of loose-leaf tea, some boxed, and some in cellophane bags. He offered us samples to smell as I made up my mind.
“Oh, this one’s good,” I crooned, handing the sample in a small glass cup to Shehryar. “Okay, I think I’ll take a pack of this orange blossom one, and then three of the traditional blend, please.”
The man grinned as he took the cup from Shehryar’s outstretched hand. “Of course. Let me get those packed for you.” I took my purse out while he packed three boxes and one cellophane packet into a brown paper bag with the company logo on it. Then he held it up for me to take. “That’ll be twenty-five sterling and fifty pence, please.”
“Thank you.” I took the bag and opened my purse.
But Shehryar was already handing the man two sterling notes. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” the man said, taking it. “Let me get your change.”
As the man dug through a metal box, I gaped at Shehryar. “Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Tell your mum it was a gift from me,” he said, stuffing his wallet back into his trouser pocket.
“Not all of it was for her—”
“Here’s your change,” the seller said.
I pushed my purse back into my bag, watching in annoyance as Shehryar took the change and put it into the charity collection box the man had chained to the corner of the counter.
“Thank you, and have a good day,” the guy said brightly.
“You too,” Shehryar replied, his hand going to my lower back and guiding me away.
The intimacy of his touch and closeness wasn’t lost on me. In fact, it made my heart hiccup and dance, which only made me more annoyed with what he’d just done.
“Don’t touch me like that,” I said, knocking his arm with my elbow.
“Like what?”
I opened my mouth to explain but fumbled over my words. “Just don’t touch me.”
One corner of his mouth curved up in an inquisitive smirk. Rather than moving his hand away, he snuck it around my waist, gripped it tight, and tugged me closer into his side. “Why not?” he purred.
“Shehryar,” I bit out, my cheeks becoming irritatingly warm.
He was holding me like we were together, as in together-together , which we of course weren’t, and it should have felt wrong and gross and infuriating and uncomfortable.
But other than the fact I was conscious of a few people looking at us, it wasn’t any of those things.
I fit snugly against him, even with the two inches of added height from my boots, but he still stood more than half a head taller than me, forcing me to crane my neck. Yet I didn’t mind. There was an odd familiarity to being in his arms that didn’t incite any violent anger or hate-fuelled lust anymore. Just minor urges to punch him between cravings to ride to his dick and curious emotions.
His smirk faded, but he didn’t remove his arm. “Why does it irritate you so much that I paid?”
“Because you have no reason to be paying for my stuff.”
He gave me a light squeeze around the waist. “I wanted to. Isn’t that reason enough?”
My heart gave a hard giddy-up again, muzzling me. Frustrated that I had no comeback, I squirmed against him. “Are you gonna remove your hand or not?”
“Or not,” he answered with a smirk. He lowered his face towards mine, and all the hairs on my skin rose to attention. “If you really hated it, you would have already removed my hand yourself.”
My belly did a little summersault as I stared at him dumbly.
Was he…was he flirting?
Was Shehryar Timur flirting with me? Me?
The two sides of my brain side-eyed each other in confusion.
Yo, what the fuck is going on with him today?
Wait…what the fuck is going on with me ?
Realising I’d gone mute again, I slapped on a sarcastic grin, ignoring the way my cheeks stung. “Don’t let it get to your head, Sheri. I’m just waiting for a better moment to embarrass you in public. I want it plastered on the front pages of every magazine and newspaper.”
His face fell, and a menacing chuckle bubbled from me. I was pretty sure the corners of his mouth rose in a reluctant smile as he narrowed his eyes, but a delicious, chocolatey aroma warmed my senses. I sniffed the air like a Michelin-star mouse to find out where it was coming from.
“Wha—oh, pancakes,” I said hungrily, sighting a stall where a middle-aged, brown lady stood behind the glass front counter. She was flipping mini fluffy pancakes in dome-shaped holes of a big square pan with two wooden skewers. A younger black man waited by the stall, presumably for his order, while a little mixed-heritage girl clung on to one of his legs, a lollipop gripped in her hand.
“Do you want some?” Shehryar asked.
I angled him a look. “When have I ever said no to pancakes?”
“Come on then.”
“Wait.” I tried to dig my boots into the cobbled stone, but Shehryar’s strong arm still dragged me forward. “Shehryar, you’re not paying.”
“I’m paying.”
“You’re not.”
In front of the stall, I got my purse out and ready…
And Shehryar snatched it right from my fingers.
“Shehryar,” I growled, reaching for my purse.
But he shoved it into his opposite pocket, out of my reach. “You’re not paying,” he said sternly, his gaze just as domineering and stubborn.
“I’m gonna f—” Remembering the little girl standing right there, I gritted my teeth and huffed through my nostrils.
He arched a mocking brow, daring me to finish. I didn’t. I wasn’t going to. Yeah, I had a foul mouth, but it wasn’t foul enough to swear in front of an impressionable child. Instead, I glanced away.
Fine, let him spend his money on me. I’ll spend it all. Then he can cry about it later.
And yet, I made no attempt to move out from his hold.
The lady behind the counter took payment from the black man, then with a white open-top box in one hand, he took, I assumed, his daughter’s hand in the other and walked off.
“What can I get for you sweethearts?” the brown woman said as we stepped up to the counter.
“Oh, we’re not together,” I said quickly, offering the lady a “ha-ha that’s so funny…not” smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the lady said, but her confused smile was focused on Shehryar’s hand on my waist.
Yeah, can’t explain that, lady. I ain’t got a clue either.
“Well, what can I get for you?” she added politely.
I hummed in thought, eyeing the options listed on a small black chalkboard sitting on the counter, then the toppings on display, and delighted in the fact I could order what I usually liked.
“She’ll have a set of ten with chocolate sauce, strawberries, and the mixed chocolate flakes, please,” Shehryar said before I’d even formed my first syllable.
I blinked, lips parted, chest jumping with a case of bad hiccups in stunned realisation.
That…was my order. Why does he know my order?
Leaning into his arm, I aimed a side glance at him. “How and why do you know what I want?”
“Because I’ve never seen you have anything else with your pancakes before. Ever,” he said like it was some boring, old, common knowledge.
Well…that was true. But that implied that he’d paid attention to me before this trip to Touma enough to know my habits and likes, which I knew wasn’t true. Shehryar had always avoided me in every manner of the word until I butted heads with him and forced his hand.
But the possibility he’d secretly still watched me the way I would never admit I’d watched him made the lost bird in my stomach knock incessantly like it kept flying into the same glass wall.
I caught the quickest glimpse of a mischievous smile on the older woman’s mouth before she turned her attention to Shehryar. “And you, young man?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, thank you. I’m fine.”
I immediately straightened. “Oh no,” I said. “If I’m eating, so are you.” I pointed a thumb at him as I spoke to the lady. “He’ll have a set of ten too with chocolate sauce and…” I trailed off as I eyed the toppings. A lightbulb went off above my head when I spotted the crushed silver tub of nuts. I pointed at them. “Are those peanuts?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, they are.”
“Okay, he’ll have bananas and peanuts then, please. But the smallest crushed peanuts for a small pea— nut .” I made a little gap between my index finger and thumb to show the lady, then lowered it to Shehryar’s belly, while smirking up at him. “Super small peanut.”
Wasn’t sure if the lady got it, but he definitely did.
His shoulders spread and lashes dipped over his eyes as they filled with irritated amusement. He leaned into me but rather loudly said, “That’s not what you were moaning last night.”
I was pretty sure the lady made a choked sound, but I was too stunned to hear anything other than the cannonball of blood fired from my heart and directed at my face.
He…did not just say that out loud…he didn’t. He fucking didn’t just —
Shehryar straightened with a victorious smirk, then, as if nothing had happened, smiled at the lady. “We’ll take an extra box of ten with maple syrup please.”
I was fuming.
Okay, I wasn’t fuming. But I was pissed. Okay, maybe not that either, but I was…something.
I shoved a deliciously fluffy ball of chocolate-covered bliss into my mouth and chewed while glaring at Shehryar, sitting in the metal chair on my right.
Yunis had opted to sit on a separate table with the extra box of pancakes Shehryar had ordered, probably having noticed my grumpy mood, but the culprit munched obliviously while he spoke to a woman on Esmeralda’s security team on the phone, giving them directions as to where we were.
The pancake lady was two stalls away from the tables we’d sat ourselves at to eat, and every so often, I swore I could feel her wide-eyed gaze on the back of my head.
I didn’t normally care what people thought of me, but she definitely thought we were horny fucking weirdos who didn’t have it together because of Shehryar’s dumbass declaration, and I would’ve rather not had that label attached to my head.
“—and let the princess know you’ll be heading in our direction in fifteen minutes,” Shehryar said, setting his wooden fork in the box. “Okay. See you then. Bye.”
He tucked his phone into his inside coat pocket, picked up his fork, and chomped down on another mini pancake before finally looking across to me. “What?” he said after he swallowed.
“What?” I asked back, my tone clipped.
A slow grin spread across his irritating face, lighting up his pale-green eyes. “Are you still thinking about what I said?”
Yes . I rolled my eyes. “No. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you today.”
“I didn’t take you for a prude, menace,” he teased, completely ignoring what I said.
“I’m not a prude, dickhead. But did you need to lie about our bedroom antics?”
He arched a brow. “Like you lied about my size?”
I shrugged. “It’s not a lie if you’re not the biggest I’ve ever had.”
Shehryar went absolutely still as a dark, furious shadow cast over his face. “Is that so?” he growled with angry, grappling flames flickering in his eyes.
A thrilling prickle loped down my neck. I recognised that piercing, possessive look of jealousy in an instant. And damn if it didn’t make my pride swell and stomach bubble.
I cocked my chin as I pouted mockingly. “Oh, what’s with that look, hmm? You jealous, Sheri?”
He rubbed his teeth together and leaned into me. “Say it again,” he purred almost seductively, but it only made his warning clearer, “and your ass will find out what a real beating feels like.”
A jolt of excitement shot through my core as a moan clawed up my throat. I had to remind myself I was in public because the temptation to push his buttons was making the words dance in my mouth.
“Touch me, and I’ll break your fucking fingers,” I said instead.
He tsked through his teeth, and the humiliation I felt made my clit throb and fingers twitch to claw at his skin like an angry cat. “It’s not as convincing when you’re looking at me as if you want me to bend you over the table right now and make good on my threat.”
“You wish,” I bit out, loving how I hated how breathy I sounded.
He leaned in closer yet. “And you’re wet.”
As I gulped around the simultaneous pounding of my heart and sex, Shehryar stuck his fork into my box and stole one of my pancakes.
I jerked upright, having not realised I’d been bending into him too, and threw an outraged glance down at my box. “Oi! Eat your own bloody pancakes.”
He wore a lopsided smirk as he chewed that turned my stomach at the same angle. I gritted my teeth, wishing I had a razor so I could rid him of his beard and destroy his rugged sexiness.
Instead, I picked my box off the table and eased back into my chair, eyeing him with more wonder than irritation. “What is up with you today?” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you so…” Flirty, touchy, smiley, smirky, and…likeable .
None of those words made it past my lips, and I ended up waving my fork at him instead.
He seemed to understand what I meant though, because he quirked his brows and said, “Would you rather we go back to ignoring each other or bickering and insulting each other?” He held my gaze, and my pulse seemed to slow and speed up at the same time. “Because I don’t.”
“So what?” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “You don’t hate me anymore?”
He blinked once, twice, three times, then shook his head. “It was never as strong as hate, Mariyah.”
I rolled my eyes. It was that or acknowledge the cartwheel my heart did. “Do you still extremely dislike me then?”
His lips twitched. “Do you?”
“Nuh-uh, you first,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table surface.
He rested his left elbow by my right one, bringing his entire body into my personal space. My lungs expanded on his warm, citrusy scent. “Not extremely,” he said.
I slid my tongue across my dry lips. “Me either.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
An amused smile grew across his mouth, and it was the oddest thing, but I found myself returning it.
His eyes dipped to my lips, and I…
Jabbed my fork into his box of pancakes and shoved one into my mouth before he could react.
With a mouthful of food, I said, “But I don’t like you enough to give you a pancake for free.”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Brat,” he muttered.
“Don’t steal my food then,” I sassed back, but I scrunched my face as the taste of what I’d eaten coated my mouth. “Fuck, I hate bananas. That’s disgusting. How are you eating that?”
He grunted. “Deserved.”
But his smug smile only lasted a few seconds before he set his wooden fork down in his box and rested his forearm on the table. “What was that in the car, by the way?”
“What?” I said around a mouthful of chopped, out-of-season strawberries and chocolate sauce.
He nudged his box away from his arm as he replied, “What you haven’t told your dad.”
An uncomfortable stillness surged through me as I held a pancake halfway to my mouth.
Shehryar lifted his gaze. But I dropped mine and forced the forkful past my lips even though I’d lost my sense of taste and remaining appetite. “Nothing,” I uttered.
He scrutinised me for a quiet beat. “It didn’t sound like nothing.”
I scoffed as I poked holes into my last pancake. “Yeah, well, in comparison to your problem, it is nothing. And you’re not gonna understand anyway.”
“Try me.”
“No thanks.”
“Why not?”
I set my box down with a slight clap . “Because you’re just gonna tell me to suck it up and stop acting like a rich brat who wants to live off Daddy’s money.”
His brows knitted together. “I won’t.”
“You will.”
“Tell me.”
“Why do you care?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “You listened to me last night, didn’t you?”
“So we share all our problems with each other now?” I pointed past me. “A week ago, we wanted to kill each other.”
He considered that for a second. “Things can change in a day, let alone a whole week.”
He wasn’t going to let it go. I knew he wasn’t…but maybe I didn’t want him to either.
“Fine.” I puffed out a heavy sigh and met his rapt stare head on. “I hate my job.”
He frowned. “Is that it?”
I nodded once. “Yep.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you quit?”
“And then what?”
“Find another one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Because that’s so easy, isn’t it?”
He scratched a set of fingers through his beard. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never changed jobs. But I’m sure if you look—”
“I don’t know what I want to do, so where am I supposed to look?” I snapped in irritation.
I wasn’t irritated with him; I was frustrated with myself for not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. I thought I had my career plans sorted, and now I didn’t, and I felt like I was already letting myself down as much as I feared letting my parents down if— when I told them.
“Is that why you haven’t told your parents?”
“What? Shocked that I don’t actually want to be the family disappointment?”
The line between his brows deepened. “Why do you think they’d be disappointed?”
“Because I come from a family of high achievers, who set goals and meet them. And I…” I sighed, the uncomfortable tightness in my belly making me feel nauseous. “They’ve never demanded anything from me other than passion, and I thought I was passionate about a career as an economist, and they helped me get there by giving me the best education and encouraging me to find work experience and network and work hard and aim high, and I fucking hate it all.”
I widened my eyes in question. “You don’t think that makes me sound like an ungrateful child? I mean in your eyes especially, I should just be a spoiled, rich kid who had her parents open all the doors for her and now she wants to close them all.” I shook my head. “And they might not have said it directly, but you don’t think all the encouraging was because they also wanted that for me? And now I’m just letting them down by not achieving and not even knowing what I want to do next.”
My monologue ended in silence. For so long, Shehryar just observed me, his thoughts and expression indecipherable, and I couldn’t even bring myself to pretend to focus on finishing my box of chocolate goodness. So, I sat there, stiff and uncomfortable, staring back.
Then, with a slow exhale, Shehryar turned his upper body directly towards me. “I disagree,” he said plain and simple. “I don’t think you have any reason to worry about what they would think—”
“No, but I do,” I corrected him. “I don’t give two shits about what other people think of me, but I care what they think. I don’t want them to look at me and see a failure. I don’t want their pity or disappointment or to wonder where they went wrong. I want them to be proud of me. So, yeah. I have every fucking reason to worry myself sick about what they’ll think.”
His brows dipped lower. “You’re putting a lot of words into people’s mouths that they have yet to actually say.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. “No, I’m—” But two rough fingers captured my chin and tugged my face back.
Shehryar’s stern gaze and hold kept me still. “You said yourself that they haven’t said anything to you about expectations. And I understand wanting your parents to be proud of you, but Mariyah, your parents wouldn’t be happy if your success came at the cost of your mental and physical health.”
His tone softened. “You say your parents helped you, but a lot of the work you really did yourself. They didn’t study for you or decide your career path. So, if you turned around and told them you’ve realised this career isn’t for you anymore, I doubt they’d be disappointed that you tried hard and changed your mind. You achieved what you wanted, Mariyah, and just because you’re not sticking at it for the long run doesn’t make you any less of a high achiever than the rest of your family. If anything, it makes you more of an achiever if you dedicated so much of your time to something, worked in it, and then decided to move on to something else rather than doing it forever.”
I would never have thought it humanly possible for a heart to pound as hard as mine was.
Each beat was as steady and loud and bone-shaking as the previous one. I could feel it right in the base of my throat, all the way down to the tips of my trembling fingers.
For someone who didn’t like me, he had a way of making his words sound so sincere and confident.
But for someone who didn’t like him, I was mesmerised by his integrity, his support. By him.
“And,” he rasped, drawing the pad of his thumb in a circle over my chin, “I don’t think you’re a spoiled, rich kid—”
I let out a soft grunt, the sound more muddled than spiteful. “Bullshit. You said—”
“I know what I said.” A glowing warmth glazed over his eyes as he traced his thumb under the curve of my bottom lip. My heart tripped forward, and I sucked in a silent breath and held it in.
Everything seemed to go quiet as if a soundproof bubble formed around us. The cold November breeze of Touma faded into fuzzy warmth. And the bustle of moving people blurred out of focus.
“But…” His throat visibly bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m beginning to realise I was wrong.”
I was standing in the middle of a racecourse as Thoroughbreds galloped past me. That’s how loudly my heart bucked and bounced. All my senses were focused on the consuming sensation.
My mind whirled before something collided into it and tumbled between my ribs.
My lungs collapsed inwards.
Fucking Neves…
The irritated feeling churning in me, the flapping bird that bashed around…
It wasn’t lost and I wasn’t irritated.
It was that catching feelings bubbling, twisting, agonising sensation. Where my heart was standing on the edge, tipping back and forth on the balls of its feet, deciding whether to jump or not.
It was anticipation and hope.
It was standing with him by the river, his hand clasped around my wrist, pulling me close, eyes on my lips…before everything fell apart.
Just like that dread punched me in the guts.
No, no. No. Not again.
This felt all too familiar and uncomfortable. The pancakes. The close proximity. The bubble.
The moment.
I shot back in my chair and jerked my chin out from the grasp of his hand. Shehryar blinked at me, brows furrowing in question, but I gritted my teeth and sat straight.
“Esmeralda and Kai are on their way, right?” I said, picking up the black leather straps of my handbag. “Let’s meet them halfway.”
“Wait.” I could feel his eyes tracking my movement as I stood up, the brown bag of tea in my hand. “Mariyah—”
I stopped and forced myself to smirk. “Thanks for the pep talk, by the way. Guess we’re even now.”
He called my name again as his chair scraped the cobblestone ground, but I was already walking away from him.
I wasn’t running. I wasn’t being a coward.
It was called self-preservation. Self-respect.
Because five years ago, I thought we were having a moment.
But he turned around and humiliated me viciously.
I’d learnt my lesson then, and no matter what it felt like now, I wasn’t going to put myself in a situation where he had the chance to hurt me again.
“Fuck,” Shehryar groaned hoarsely in my ear as he rolled his sweaty, sated body off my back, slipping his flagging cock out of me. “Are you okay?”
I panted as I flopped onto my spine on his bed and nodded. “Fine.”
“Would you like a bath or—”
“Just a washcloth,” I said, pushing myself upright. “I want to get back to my room.”
His brows knotted. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I scanned the mess of clothes we’d left on his bedroom floor as we’d undressed each other upon returning to the palace, accounting for everything I needed to grab before I left. “I need to shower and wash my makeup off, and I’m tired, Shehryar. We were out all day today, and I barely got any sleep last night either.”
“You can shower and sleep here,” he said, climbing off the edge of the bed.
“I’d rather do that in my own space.”
“Our rooms are the same.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
“My room has my stuff in it.”
Less than a minute later, he came back out in his full, confident male glory, a damp towel in his hand, and my chest and sore pussy clenched in sync.
This is the last time , I reminded myself of what I’d decided before he fucked me. This is the last time you have sex or deep conversations with him. No more after you leave this room.
“I can get whatever you need from your room,” he said, walking back over.
My stomach joined in in the game of clench-so-hard-it-ached-so-good . “No thanks,” I said.
Shehryar folded one hairy leg as he sat down by my hip. He stared me right in the eyes as he pushed my sticky thighs apart. “I’m asking you to stay the night, Mariyah.”
“I know. But can you just fucking stop? You’re confusing me, dickhead!” was what I wanted to yell at him. Instead, I tugged at the towel in his hand. “And I’m telling you I don’t want to.”
For a second, the jaws of guilt clamped around my rib cage as a flicker of something uncertain darted through his eyes. But then his lips set firm. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m still wiping you down.”
It was a compromise I wanted to fight, but I bit my tongue and let go of the cloth.
The quicker he wiped me down, the faster I would have been able to leave and put this all behind me.
I’d go back to hating Shehryar, and it would be as if nothing had ever changed.