Chapter 18 - Sayid
The drive back to the hotel was quiet, but it wasn’t a silence of uncertainty. It was thick, brimming with the weight of what we both had said to each other. I love you. Three words that had come so easily to my lips, because I had known it from the moment I first saw that picture of her.
But hearing her say it back? That nearly brought me to my knees, right then and there—asking her to be mine forever. But I needed her to know the truth before she made that kind of commitment. I can’t feel satisfied with that hanging between us.
Emotion surged in my chest—adoration, pride, something deeper, something unshakable. Everything about our day was exactly what we both needed. And it wasn’t even something that was planned and calculated. I was free to be with her, free to love her how I wanted to, and how she deserved to be loved.
And the way she made me laugh when she implied she prefers Jafar, it caught me off guard—deep, unstrained, a sound I hadn’t let out in years. Of course she would pick the possessive villain over the hero. My rebellious little minx.
They both have qualities that she needs, qualities that I also possess. I will be the villain to everyone but her, for her I will be her hero. I am tempted at the idea of keeping her protected in a bubble for only me to access, while I take care of the evil trying to get at her. Deep down I knew she would accept my truth, and once she did, I would finally be able to fully take her and make her mine.
But right now, I can’t wait another damn second to touch her again. The moment we step into the suite, I toss my jacket on the counter and turn to face her. She is glowing, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the afternoon. She instinctively wraps her arms around me, and I pick her up, legs clenching against me. She never pulls away from me, always gravitating closer.
Every emotion and feeling from earlier, electrifies again between us as we kiss. Her gaze lifts to mine, and in it, I see the same heat that has been simmering beneath the surface all afternoon. “Come, let’s get ready for dinner.”
I carry her into the ensuite, and place her on the bathroom counter. I turn to the shower, and turn on the water, getting it ready for us. “I can’t wait,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, raw. “I need you, Habibti. Let me see you. Let me touch you.” I start unbuttoning my shirt. Her gaze lingers on each of my movements.
I pull my arms out from my shirt, exposing my hard chiseled chest. Her breath hitches. She follows my hands down as I unbuckle my belt, and unbutton my pants before sliding down the zipper. I watch her as she watches me. I observe every detail. From the way her eyes grow wider, to the fast flush of heat across her cheeks, then to the way she sucks her bottom lip.
In one final movement, I pull my pants and boxers down to the floor, and step out of them. She let out a small gasp, her lips parting, and that is all the answer I needed. I approach her, my hand at her waist, my mouth grazing along her jaw to the pulse point in her throat.
It takes all the restraint I have not to fully harden from the mere look in her eyes. I grab the hem of her shirt, and she raises her arms up without me asking. I pull her shirt up and over her head, then she reaches around and undoes her bra.
I had seen her bare before, but this is different. This wasn’t a fleeting stolen glance. My eyes are devouring her already, worshiping her with my eyes before I did so with my hands, my mouth, and eventually my cock.
The temperature rose in the room as the steam from the shower curled between us. “Come,” I say softly, grabbing her hips, and pulling her down off the counter. She doesn’t hesitate, and starts to unbutton her pants. As the rest of her clothes pool at the floor, I can’t help but to continue to worship her.
She is exquisite. Perfect in every way. She is beyond all of my wildest dreams. And she’s mine. I extend my hand to her, she takes it, and I guide her into the expansive marble shower. Water cascading down from multiple shower heads. I am already mesmerized by the way the water beads and streaks down her soft skin.
I turn her around so she faces away from me, and pour shampoo into my hands. I massage it gently into her scalp and through her hair. I can feel her begin to melt under my touch. I pull down one of the shower heads, and rinse her hair. Then I repeat the same steps with the conditioner.
I follow with the soap, not using a sponge this time, my firm palms lightly glide over her body. I take my time, relishing every second of contact I have with her. I map out every inch of her, memorizing not only the way her body feels, but how she responds to my touch. Memorizing her sighs as she leans back into me, trusting me.
I pull her back into me further, kissing her neck and jawline as my hands roam lower. I slide one hand down the slickness of her stomach, and continue down between her legs. I wrap my other arm around her, holding her up into me.
“Please Sayid…don’t stop,” she whispers, and her wish is my command. My fingers slide between her wet slit and gently rest on her clit, starting slow circles around it. I take one of her breasts in my hand that is around her, and gently knead her nipple with my fingers. It pebbles under my touch.
I use both of my hands, moving in unison, as her body trembles against me. I move my hand up and down her wet lips, and then back to circling her clit again. She lets out a soft moan, and I can’t restrain myself any longer. I feel my cock begin to harden with its own need. She feels me, and shifts back against me, rubbing her slick back against me. She is going to be my undoing.
I circle her clit faster now, feeling her pleasure building. I slowly start to slide one finger inside of her. I press into her tightness, soaking with wetness and radiating heat. She moans louder now, and I circle my finger, deepening it inside of her.
I pull my finger out of her, and turn her to face me. Then I drop to my knees before her, she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders. I kiss the water-slickened skin of her stomach, my tongue tracing the droplets that slide down. I move lower.
“Sayid…” she whispers, her voice shaking. I look up at her, my hands on her hips, as my thumb starts tracing slow reverent circles on her clit. “I will never stop wanting you,” I admit. “Never stop worshiping you. And tonight, this is for you.” She trembles under my touch as I slide my hands, parting her thighs, my mouth following.
She cries out, fingers threading into my hair as I taste her for the first time. And God , she is the sweetest thing I have ever had on my tongue. Her taste is what her scent is but amplified a hundred times over. My cock pulses as I continue.
I move a hand under her, and my finger enters her again, this time adding another. She moans louder, and braces a hand against the shower wall. Her other hand still gripping my hair. I work my tongue faster over her, sucking, and nipping her clit. Then switching to slow laps up and down, tasting every bit that I can.
My fingers working deeper into her, I can feel her clenching around me. My cock is begging to feel her too. Her tension is building, and her legs are trembling. As I continue with the quick suck of her clit, she admits a sound that is more of a sharper whimper than a moan.
My cock pulses again, her sounds on their own are almost enough to make me come undone. Then with another suck of her clit, she clenches my fingers and comes around me. As she begins to shudder, I instinctively move my hands to the back of her hips, holding her against my mouth, and helping to hold her up.
“Sayid…” she cries out for me. Her high pitch scream echoing off the shower walls. I swallow not only every sound she gives me as she climaxes, but all of her sweet release as well.
I will never be able to get enough of her. But this will have to be enough for now. I rise, and pull her still trembling body against me. I turn off the water, and guide her out of the shower.
I wrap her in a towel, and scoop her up into my arms so that I can carry her into the bedroom. I lay her down on the bed. Her eyes are hazy, lips parted, and I have never seen anything more beautiful. I hover over her, brushing my knuckles over her cheek. My cock is screaming at me, but I will not give in.
“Let me take care of…” Her eyes move down to my rock hard cock protruding right towards her. Her eyes pop open. “Holy shit you're thick,” she squeaks out before slapping her hand over her mouth, blushing deep.
“Such a dirty little mouth, Habibti. I will show you just how thick I am later, but for now, we need to get ready for dinner,” I insist. Resisting the urge to grip my cock and run the tip over her lips.
She lets out a small, breathless laugh. “You just— Sayid, you didn’t…” I silence her with a kiss, slow and deep, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Teasingly pressing my cock into her belly. When I pull back, I brush her damp hair from her face, my chest tightening at how open, how trusting she looks.
“After dinner, Hayati.” I press my forehead against hers. “After I tell you everything, one last truth about me, and you still want me… then I will take you, and I will find my release in your pleasure.”
Her fingers curl into my hair, her voice barely a whisper. “I already know I want you. I love you Sayid.”
A deep, satisfied smile curls at my lips. “Then trust me just a little longer, Habibti. Because after tonight… you will be mine in every way Imaginable.”
∞∞∞
The restaurant is empty. Not because it isn’t in high demand—it is one of the most exclusive in the city—but because I had ensured no one else would be here tonight. I had spared no effort in making this perfect. For Nora.
She sits across from me, her hair still slightly damp from our time in the shower, her skin glowing under the warm lighting. She looks at me with those sharp, curious eyes, the same ones that have captivated me from the start. But tonight, there is something else there. A quiet wariness.
She knew something was coming. And now, I have no choice but to give her the truth. The only thing on our table is a glass of water for each of us, a scotch for me, and a cocktail for her. I wanted the food to wait until we were done talking, then hopefully we could celebrate properly. But the way she is looking at me—it steals the very breath from my lungs.
I reach for her hand across the table, threading my fingers through hers. I have spent my life holding power in my hands. Yet here she is, holding my heart, fragile and breakable in her grasp.
“You know that I would do anything for you, Nora.” Her lips part, her fingers tightening slightly in mine. “You always have a choice,” I continue, my voice steady, unwavering. “If you decide that you can’t be with me, I will force myself to accept it. But, I will never stop protecting you, never stop giving you whatever you need, even if that means I can never have you. I will always sacrifice my own happiness for yours.”
Her breath hitches, and I can see her struggling to find words, but I don’t let her speak just yet. “There is something I have to tell you,” I say. “Something I should have told you from the start.”
I exhale slowly, preparing myself for the shift this moment could bring. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you could still be my princess .” I emphasized the words and watched the confusion flicker across her face before realization dawned.
“I am an Amir, Nora,” I admit. “A Prince. My father is a Malik—a King. Some call him Sultan, ruler…his word is final.” I pause for a moment, letting her absorb it. “I was born into a legacy, a title that should have defined my future. But I did not let traditions dictate how I was to live my life.”
I watch her carefully, gauging her reaction, but I continue before she can say anything. “If you choose to stay with me, it will mean leaving behind the life you know. It will mean moving your career overseas, adapting to a world that can be very different."
"Our family doesn't exactly dictate how the country runs, everything is elected. But still, it is not always kind, not always forgiving.” She pulls in a shaky breath, her fingers flexing in my grasp, but she doesn't pull away. I stroke her fingers encouragingly.
“But listen to me, Nora.” I say, leaning forward, my voice lower, rougher with emotion. “None of that matters to me. Not the title, not the legacy. You are the only thing that matters. I would give up my place, my name—everything—if it meant I could keep you.” She inhales sharply, her lips tremble, but she doesn't look away.
“My family is strong, our line will continue, with or without me. My half-sister, Asha—Zahir’s mother—was born many years before me. We share the same mother, but her father is not mine. Our mother was married once before my father. And my father, just like me, knew that he would only marry for love.”
“Asha will never be in line for the throne, but Zahir… he could take my place if I step away. In time, he would serve our family well.” I give her hand a light squeeze. “I have already told my advisor as much. If being with you means giving up my title, then so be it. I don’t care about duty, about expectations.”
“The only future I want is one with you by my side.” My thumb brushes along the inside of her wrist, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse. “I want a life with you, Nora. A family. A home filled with our children’s laughter, with you at the center of it all.”
She is frozen, her eyes wide, lips parted as if she wants to say something, but no words come out. I let the silence settle between us, waiting, giving her the space to absorb it all. This is it. I brace myself for her words, for the decision that would shape the rest of my life. Our life.