Chapter 55
Two and a half months later
Kamal and Madeline’s Wedding Day (Nikah)
“You look beautiful. I almost feel like getting married again,” Zoe says, hugging me.
“I’m so glad you came!”
“Thank you for waiting until the pediatrician cleared us to travel with our boys.”
“Our happiness wouldn’t be complete without you here. After all, it’s because of you that all of this happened. If you hadn’t told me about the assistant job, I would never have met the love of my life.”
She looks at me thoughtfully. “Aren’t you sad that your mother didn’t want to come?”
“To be honest, no. You know what I’ve learned, Zoe? Some people evolve throughout life, while others choose to remain stagnant. We can’t change her decisions. If she were here, she’d probably say something unpleasant and ruin my big day. I think it’s better this way.”
“And there’s also the fact that your father can’t leave U.S. territory, right?”
“Yeah. The deal for him to await trial under house arrest required him to surrender his passport to the authorities. He’s even wearing an ankle monitor.”
“Sorry for bringing up that topic. It was thoughtless. I don’t want to spoil your day.”
I let it go. Thinking about my parents and how distant we’ve become still upsets me.
I hear voices coming from the hallway and smile.
God, his entire family is here!
Although I haven’t decided yet if and when I’ll convert, Kamal managed to obtain a special license to follow all the rituals, and from the beginning of the week, I’ve felt like a true princess from ‘One Thousand and One Nights.’
For days, a group of women accompanied me wherever I went, talking incessantly, discussing lingerie and wedding nights.
To spice up our debut as a married couple, a week ago, I forbade Kamal from touching me, driving my Sheikh crazy with desire.
I look at my hands adorned with henna designs. This ritual of painting, which I learned is called ‘senna,’ should only be performed by single women. So Kamal’s sisters, my mother-in-law, and Zoe kept me company while they turned my body into a work of art.
Finally, they all left, leaving me alone with my cousin.
“Your dress is beautiful. So exotic!”
Instead of the traditional one-piece garment, for the first dress—yes, I’ll have to change clothes at least one more time—I opted for a set consisting of a long skirt and a kind of dark red top, almost wine-colored, made of taffeta and sewn and embroidered with golden threads.
The veil covering my hair follows the same pattern, but it’s transparent.
“I’m in love with it too. And between us, I could get used to all this pampering. I received massages and beauty treatments all week long.”
“You’re a princess. You can have whatever you want.”
“In theory, yes. But I don’t want to be a parasite. I’ve already talked to Kamal, and together with Amapola, I plan to start several social projects, especially for the women of our people.”
“Our people. Oh, how beautiful. Visiting Sintarah is almost like being in the Aladdin movie. I’m in love.”
I laugh at her incurable romanticism.
“The only thing I didn’t quite understand was why the wedding couldn’t be held at the Mosque.”
“I haven’t converted, and besides, here at the palace, it’s easier for the Sheikh’s security team to contain any threats.”
“We should go, my daughter,” Amapola says, smiling, standing at the door of my room. “It’s time to confirm your love before the world.”
Half an hour later, I hear the celebrant, one of the elders of the country, bestowing blessings upon us.
Kamal insisted on having a translator so I could understand what was being said, but the words don’t matter compared to what I see in my husband’s eyes when we are finally declared husband and wife.
Like me, Kamal seems to remember the path we’ve walked to get here.
The day I spilled coffee on him and ended up almost naked in front of the entire office in London. The fights, our separation. The reconciliations that always resulted in a love so intense that it borders on insanity.
The celebrant calls my name, announcing the Mahr, which is a gift, usually in cash, that the groom offers the bride on the wedding day.
I nod in agreement because, no matter what it is, nothing will ever compare to being the owner of my Sheikh’s heart.
I vaguely notice at least three chests filled with gold and all kinds of jewels.
He explained to me that there’s a special symbolism to gifting gold: the more significant the quantity, the greater the husband’s love for his wife.
The three chests are enormous, and I smile, more in love than ever, at my now-husband’s not-so-subtle way of showing the world what I mean to him.
“You’re mine now,” he says when the ceremony ends.
“I’ve always been yours, my Sheikh. I fell in love with you so fast that I didn’t even realize it.”
Wedding Night
The plan was a night of seduction. A slow, romantic love, almost like the ones described in books.
However, there’s nothing slow between me and my Sheikh. Our love is untamed, desire impossible to hold back.
So, just two minutes after we stepped inside the Royal Suite, which had the floor covered in rose petals, specially prepared to celebrate the official beginning of our life together, I was already naked and Kamal kneeling in front of me, one of my thighs over his shoulders, making me scream in ecstasy.
“I’ll make it up during our honeymoon,” he promises as he takes me again, standing against the side of the shower cubicle.
My legs are wrapped around his waist, holding him inside me, and I know I’m about to climax because the pleasure I feel is almost unbearable.
“Let go,” he orders, knowing my body, every change in my face and every sigh I make.
I contract around him, and his groan drives me wild. I convulse, squeezing his hard flesh even tighter.
“You’re on fire, love.”
“Every cell in my body burns for you, husband.”
Holding my ass, he makes me ride him, and the position forces me to take him deeply.
Seconds later, I climax, moaning his name.
“Delicious.”
I throw my head back, compliant, allowing him to do whatever he wants.
“You’re so sexy, Madeline. Delicious. Mine.”
He keeps whispering dirty thoughts to me, mixed with declarations of love, and then I feel him swell even more inside me.
“I’ll fill you up so much, alby[25]. I want to feel my sperm dripping from your pussy.”
“Kamal . . .”
With a growl from deep in his throat, he tightens his arm around me, fulfilling his promise.