Chapter 28 - Nora
The last few days have been an absolute whirlwind. From the moment we said our vows in Vegas, my world shifted. I was already making preparations to uproot my life the moment I resigned at the hospital. Sayid had already paid my lease through the remainder of my contract. Always taking care of me.
I packed away everything from my former life, leaving behind the familiar streets of Boston, and stepped onto Sayid’s private plane, our private plane—it all still felt like a dream I hadn’t quite woken up from. Even if I am still dreaming, this is the best dream I have ever had and leaving Boston is probably one of the easiest moves I have ever made.
The flight to Arabia, was just as exciting as the flight to Vegas. I didn’t want Sayid’s touch to leave mine for one second. Sayid, my husband, the man I love more than anything. I still giggle thinking of how he actually sang to me on our wedding night. He has so many layers embedded in his love, that I am constantly being swept away by him. My Arabian Knight.
Then there is the way my body reacts to him. Just his look, his scent, his mere presence in a room I am in, and I am swollen with desire. I have never been so turned on in my entire life. Our connection grows deeper every second he is inside of me. And now that I am officially Mrs. Hassan, I can’t wait to carry his baby.
As I get ready to be introduced to all of his people, our people, as not only his wife, but his princess, and future queen. I am draped in the finest cream colored silks. A gown tightly wrapped around my body, and I am adorned with delicate gold and emerald jewelry. No expense spared whatsoever. This is my new reality, my new life.
Arabia had embraced me the moment I arrived. Sayid’s family welcomed me not just as his wife but as someone they had already chosen to love. His mother’s warm embrace, her eyes already filled with tears, I could feel not only her love, but her gratefulness that I was her son’s.
His sister, Asha, also embraced me with love and excitement, and soon she chatted away like I was her long lost friend. Sayid’s father was a bit different than I expected. He has the same reassuring presence that Sayid exudes, but for a Malik, he seems far tamer than Sayid. He immediately scooped me up into a welcoming hug that made Zahir burst out in a fit of laughter.
My curiosity flared as I wondered just how different Sayid is from the rest of his family. I see the lightness in him that they share, but his overwhelming pillar of power and strength, I am thinking he developed that on his own.
Any lingering fears I had about belonging in Arabia and fitting in with Sayid's family were quickly wiped away. They had all made it clear—I am not an outsider. I am their daughter now. Their future queen.
The next day I was even more surprised when my own family arrived. Since I had put distance between myself and my family over the years, we weren't as close as Sayid's family. My family and I love each other, but we were never good at spending time together.
My Mom, and my sister and I texted a few times a week, and called for the important things. Xavier, the busy Navy Seal, has also stayed away from home all these years, and has even more limited contact with us. I do know he is always an email away if I need anything. The problem was back when I was going through everything, I couldn't bring myself to tell him anything, let alone ask for help.
Jules knows a bit more than any of them. She is the only girl I have ever been friendly with, and even though she is a few years younger than me. She is very observant, and protective. Turns out she knew something was going on between Tyson and me long before I realized she had caught on.
Jules still doesn’t know everything, but she knows enough to understand the depth of what I have healed from. Our parents only know that I was in an abusive relationship, and that's why I changed so much, and am doing much better now.
As I watched my father, always the reserved one, shake Sayid’s hand with a look of quiet approval, it felt like the final piece of this new life clicked into place. My mother, misty-eyed and overwhelmed, hugged me tightly before turning her attention to the grand beauty of the palace. My brother and sister, though still adjusting to the sheer scale of everything, were just as enthralled by the opulence surrounding us.
I didn't miss the fact that Xavier and Sayid shared a private conversation away from everyone else while I gave the Royal tour. Sayid told me later that evening that my older, much bigger, protective brother gave him the once over, and a warning that he had no intention of letting another man hurt me ever again. Sayid made sure Xavier knew he also had no intentions of letting any harm come to me, and that Tyson was taken care of.
And tonight, the celebration is in our honor. But before our reception, Sayid takes me to a private moment he arranged with just our families to present me with my Mahr, my wedding dowry. The tradition feels sacred, intimate. As he slips the gold and emerald bangle onto my wrist, and I trace my fingers over the inscription:
??? ????? . ????? — My life. Forever.
I blink back tears as I look up at him, feeling the weight of his devotion settle into my bones. He has already given me everything—his protection, his love, his name—and yet, this was something more. A promise, tangible and eternal.
Now the real celebration can begin. The reception is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Grand chandeliers illuminate the ballroom, their golden glow reflecting off the intricate embroidery of my gown. I have never felt so comfortable, even though everything is completely new to me.
Tables overflowed with dishes rich in flavor, scents of saffron and spices filling the air. The music is infectious, an intoxicating mix of traditional drums and modern beats that have everyone moving. So much joy and happiness surrounds us.
Sayid pulls me onto the dance floor, spinning me into his arms with that boyish grin that makes my heart lurch. At first, we dance playfully, twirling and laughing as the guests clap along. He shows off his best Arabic dance moves, and then Jules joins me showing off our best Church Clap dance. And once again Sayid completely surprises me when he joins in on the Cupid Shuffle.
As much as I favor his controlling protective side, I am quickly starting to favor this carefree side of him as well. His effortless smile still takes my breath away. Then the music shifts, and the tempo slows, Sayid’s gaze becomes more serious. His hands find my waist, drawing me close. The world melts away. With his forehead resting against mine, he whispers, “My wife, Rouhi.”
As we sway together, his grip tightens ever so slightly, his lips brushing my ear as he murmurs, “Do you remember the first time I held you on the dance floor?” My breath hitches as the memory of Liam’s wedding fl oods back. How could I ever forget the way he had taken me into his arms that night, how he had claimed me with nothing more than the way he held me, the way he looked at me.
“I told you then, Qamari, that you would be mine. And now, we have forever.” I shiver at the promise in his voice, at the way his hand presses against the small of my back, keeping me impossibly close. There, in the middle of a grand ballroom, surrounded by a sea of people, it is just us. Just Mr. and M rs. Hassan, bound together in love and devotion.
The night is a blur of laughter, toasts, and stolen kisses between congratulations. Every glance towards my husband, meeting his heated gaze sets my soul on fire. I can't wait to get out of here and continue our night alone.
But perhaps the most memorable moment came with the cake. A grand, towering masterpiece stood before us, adorned with delicate gold leaf and intricate sugar orchids and lilies. And when it came time to cut the cake, there were no simple knives here. No delicate slices to be served with quiet precision.
Instead, Sayid is handed an ornate sword, its hilt encrusted with emeralds, and with a mischievous smile, he places his hand over mine, guiding the blade through the first cut of the cake.
Cheers erupt around us as the cake splits cleanly in two, a symbol of shared strength and unity. With laughter still dancing in my throat, I turn to him, only to find the heat burning even brighter in his gaze—something far more intense than just playful amusement. As I carefully place a bite of cake in his mouth, it is clear he is ready to consume something more than just cake. Me.
When he places the cake in my mouth, I gently suck his finger in with it. My eyes never leave his as I watch the fire burn, and his control waiver. He pulls me sharply against him, and kisses me passionately. I felt in his kiss that he didn't give a damn, in this moment, who saw him claim me. as his.
He moves his lips against my ear so that only I can hear him. “I am already fighting the urge not to drag you off into one of the linen closets, and take you right now.” I inhale sharply as his hand traces the small of my back. “You have fifteen minutes, Habibti. Then I will be whisking you away, so that I can have my way with you.”
And with that, he turns and leaves so he can finish thanking some more guests. I quickly compose myself, and go talk with the few people I have not had the opportunity to meet yet. A few moments later I make eye contact across the room with Sayid, he discretely points at his watch, mouthing that I have five minutes left. My thighs are already clenching in anticipation.
When my time is up, Sayid is by my side, and just as he promised, he scoops me up into his arms. I’m a ball of giggles as he carries me towards the exit. He turns and says a final, “goodnight everyone,” over his shoulder before exiting. We don’t even make it five yards down the hall before he pauses to kiss me.
The night air feels warm as he carries me through the halls of the palace. All I can hear is the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, thundering with anticipation. The moment we step into our private chambers, the door clicks shut behind us, sealing us away from the world. Sayid sets me down on my feet, his dark eyes drinking me in. “Do you trust me?”
My breath catches sharply. “With every part of me.”
A slow, knowing smile curves his lips. “Good.” From the assortment of wedding gifts piled on a nearby table, he plucks two long silk scarves, their fabric smooth and shimmering in the dim candlelight. My pulse quickens as he approaches, the promise in his movements unmistakable.
Gently, reverently, he raises my hands above my head, looping the scarves around my wrists and fastening them to a hook embedded in the carved wooden beam across the ceiling. I am standing before him, my chest rising and falling with every breath as he steps back to admire his work.
He starts slowly, his fingers gliding over my skin with featherlight touches, sending shivers down my spine. He undresses me piece by piece, savoring each moment as if unwrapping a gift only he is allowed to claim. When I am bare before him, his gaze darkens with hunger, but he restrains himself—watching me, waiting.
He reaches towards one of the long peacock feathers that were in a decorative vase. Slowly pulling it out. Then he uses it, teasing every curve of my body. Taking extra focus on my nipples, watching them pebble in response to the sensation.
I whimper at the touch, and he flits the feather against my hard nipple. My body clenches and I pull at the scarves trying to regain balance. Then he kneels at my feet.
His mouth finds my skin, his tongue tracing delicate patterns up the inside of my thighs, teasing me with deliberate slowness. I tremble, gasping, as he takes his time worshipping me, savoring every sound, every shudder that ripples through my body.
“Sayid—” I plead, my voice breaking. My fingers curl in the silken ties above me, desperate for something to hold onto. “Please.”
He hums against me, his hands gripping my hips to hold me in place as he devours me with his mouth. Heat coils low in my belly, pressure building, pleasure spiraling beyond anything I have ever felt before. And just when I think I can’t take it any longer, when I am on the edge of madness, I gasp, “please Sayid.”
He lifts his gaze, his lips glistening, his expression dark with restraint. “Tell me what you need, Qamari.”
“I need you,” I beg. “I want to carry your child. I want all of you inside of me.”
A groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into my hips. “Say it.”
“Don’t hold back.”
His control snaps. His hands grip my thighs as he lifts me effortlessly. My back hits the wall as he spreads me open, positioning me exactly where he wanted. “You’re mine,” he growls, dragging himself along my entrance, teasing me until I am writhing against him. The silk scarves are barely long enough to reach me now. His mouth claims mine in a fierce, desperate kiss. I feel the full force of his control snapping, the wild hunger he has held back for so long.
“I wanted you in that ballroom,” he rasps, his hands gripping my thighs. “I was tempted to take you right there, I wanted to bend you over that damn table. Slide my hand up your dress. Feel how wet you were for me.” He grabs my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. “Tell me, did you want it too?”
A soft, broken moan escapes my lips. “Yes.”
Sayid’s breath is ragged as he presses me against the wall. The silk scarf around my wrists keeps me bound, exposed, completely at his mercy. His dark eyes burn into me, taking in every trembling inch of my body that he holds up effortlessly.
“You begged for this, Qamari,” he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. “You wanted me to lose control. To take you how we’ve always craved.” I nod, barely able to speak through the need clenching every muscle in my body. His fingers trace the inside of my thighs, teasing, coaxing, but never giving me what I am desperate for.
“And I’m going to make sure my seed stays deep inside of you.” The promise in his words sends a shudder down my spine. Then, without warning, he thrusts inside, deep, stretching me, filling me completely. A strangled cry tears from my throat as he pins me harder up against the wall, his body commanding mine, taking what already belongs to him.
Each powerful stroke sends pleasure rocketing through me, my wrists straining against the silk bindings. He is relentless, claiming me over and over, his lips devouring my cries, his hands keeping me exactly where he wants me. “You take me so well, Habibti,” he moans out, his forehead pressing against mine. “Your body is made for me—for me to take you just like this.”
“Please—” I gasp, not even sure what I am begging for now. More? Harder? Deeper? His hand slides between us, pressing against the most sensitive part of me. My vision blurs as my body clenches around him, pleasure crashing over me in violent waves. But Sayid doesn’t stop. He drives into me ruthlessly, chasing his own release, his breath ragged against my ear.
“Mine,” he growls, holding me so tight I have no choice but to take everything he gives.
“Yes,” I practically sob, my body shaking from the intensity of it all. “Yours. Always yours.” With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his release surging inside me, filling me just like he promised.
His groan is raw, guttural, his body trembling as he holds me through it. For a moment, there is nothing but our heavy breathing, the sound of our heartbeats pounding in sync. Then Sayid slowly eases me down, pressing a lingering kiss against my lips. Then he reaches up to untie the scarves, and plants delicate kisses to my wrists. He whispers softly in Arabic as he kisses up my arm, as if sealing the vow into my skin. And I know, without a doubt, that this is for eternity.