The Sultan's Choice

by Abby Green

  Rage burnt in Sadiq’s belly, and with it came a rush of something much more primal—triumphant, almost. She was his and she would be no one else’s. Ever. He put his hands to her shoulders and turned her around, tipping her chin up so she had to look at him.

  The defiantly defensive look on her face made something inordinately protective move through him. She was like a kitten, showing sharp but ineffectual claws. He twisted a long strand of silky hair around his fingers and pulled her closer. ‘He was an idiot. Now … where were we?’

  Sadiq had to steady his hands when he pulled the straps of her gown down again, baring those perfectly shaped breasts to his gaze. He was glad he knew she was a virgin, because he was so aroused that if he hadn’t known he might have hurt her.

  The way that Sadiq was so easily accepting of her innocence made her confidence bloom. Samia revelled in the way he was looking at her—as if she were the only woman in the world. She blocked out the insidious voices pointing out that every woman who’d stood before him like this must have felt the same.

  That heat was building again, and with a gentle tug her nightdress fell to her waist. Sadiq reached out and cupped her breasts, testing their weight and firmness, thumbs passing over hard nipples, making them pucker even more. Samia bit her lip.

  Sadiq took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down and pulling her between his legs. With his hands holding her firm he put his mouth to one breast and then the other, making helpless sounds of pleasure come from her mouth. Her head fell back, hair tickling the base of her spine, as Sadiq sucked the peaks to stinging arousal.

  She felt him pull her gown down the rest of the way until it pooled on the ground, and now all she wore was a flimsy pair of silk panties. In a move so smooth she didn’t see it coming, he had Samia lying on her back on the bed, looking up at him and watching as he started to undress.

  The dim light in the room highlighted his taut musculature as first his shirt came off and then his hands went to his belt. Samia sat up, her eyes drawn to the tantalising line of dark hair that led downwards underneath his trousers.

  His hands stopped, and Samia heard him say, ‘I want you to do it.’

  Feeling gauche and nervous, Samia came up on her knees and reached out, very aware of the henna tattoo which snaked up her arms. What she was doing felt illicit, decadent and more exciting than anything she’d ever experienced in her life.

  A rush of intense longing went through her. She was all fingers and thumbs on his belt, and then the buttons and zip but then she was pushing his trousers down over lean hips, taking his underwear with them, and his impressive erection sprang free, making Samia blanch suddenly. For a moment she wasn’t sure if she could do this, and doubt assailed her—the memory of baring herself before and being laughed at.

  Worried, she looked up at him. ‘Sadiq, I—’

  He put a finger to her lips. ‘Shh, don’t speak.’

  Sadiq kicked his clothes off and came down on the bed beside her. They lay length to length beside each other, and Samia could feel the awesome power of that arousal against her belly. Instinctively she moved, seeking friction, wanting to assuage the ache between her legs. She loved the feel of his powerful body alongside hers, all hard muscle next to her softness.

  He kissed her long and luxuriously, as if they had all the time in the world. His hand drifted down over her belly to her pants. He slid it underneath and his fingers found where she was so damp and hot.

  She couldn’t move. She was boneless with desire as Sadiq’s fingers moved in and out, alternately going faster, making her back arch off the bed towards his hand, and then slower, making her mewl with a savage frustration she’d never known before.

  He pulled her panties down until she kicked them off herself. Then Sadiq pushed her legs apart until they were splayed in wanton abandonment, but Samia had gone beyond embarrassment and shame. She was this man’s slave.

  He slowly moved down her body, kissing his way until he was between her legs. Samia’s breath stopped altogether as with his fingers he bared her totally to his mercy, licking her with such indecent intimacy that a hectic flush rose all over her body. But that was nothing compared to the wickedly indescribable pleasure he was giving her, his mouth finding that cluster of nerves and sucking with a rhythm that was resmorseless.

  ‘Sadiq, please … I can’t …’ Samia was barely coherent, her hips twitching uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure built and built, until Sadiq splayed a big hand on her belly, holding her down. He inserted a finger and Samia’s head was almost blown off. The waves came closer together, and at a rush of pleasure almost too intense to bear Samia’s entire body stilled, before falling into an ocean of exquisite aftershocks that racked every bone and cell.

  Sadiq moved up over Samia’s supine body. Sweat beaded his brow. It had taken more restraint than he’d thought he had not to explode before now. Especially when he’d felt the tightness of her body and the contractions of her orgasm. He’d never known a woman to be so responsive. He’d always prided himself on being a good lover, but every woman he’d been with had somehow given the impression of holding something back—as if they were too aware of themselves to let go completely. But Samia held nothing back. She was unrestrained and wild.

  To think that he’d once dismissed her as plain and conservative. The thought was laughable now as he took in her luscious curves, the flush on her rosy-tipped breasts and that glorious hair spread out around her head. A light sheen of perspiration made her skin glow. Her eyes were slumberous as she looked at him. With an ominous lurch in his chest he came over her and pressed a kiss to soft lips, loving the way she opened her mouth and sought his tongue, exploring his mouth with a studied thoroughness that had him pulling back for fear of losing it completely.

  Praying for control, he settled between her spread thighs and with extreme care slowly slid the engorged head of his erection along her wet folds. Samia moved her hips towards him, causing him to slip inside her a little, and he gritted his jaw.

  ‘Wait … I have to take this … slowly. I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘You won’t …’ Samia said the words but had no idea if he would or not. All she knew was that she wanted to be joined with this man in the most basic and primitive way.

  With a groan, Sadiq thrust into Samia and at first she wondered what all the fuss about hurting her was about. And then he thrust again, and a more intense pain than she’d ever felt sent shockwaves to her brain. It was blinding and white-hot.

  Instinctively recoiling from Sadiq’s heavy weight and that pain, she tried to pull back, while at the same time perversely not wanting to break the connection. She let out a small sound of agony she couldn’t hide.

  ‘I know …’ he soothed. ‘I’m sorry. It’ll hurt just for a bit.’

  ‘Sadiq …’ Samia sobbed in earnest, gripping his arms. The pain was intensifying. ‘I don’t know if I can—’

  ‘I know it hurts. But just trust me, okay?’

  Eyes huge and watering, Samia looked up at him and nodded, biting her lip.

  ‘You need to try and relax, habibti … you’re so tight.’

  The term of endearment struck her somewhere very vulnerable. Samia took a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing the muscles which even she could feel were like a vice around Sadiq. And when she did that she could feel the solid length of him slide a little deeper, as if something had given way. Immediately, magically, the pain started to lessen, and she breathed out slowly on a shuddery breath.

  ‘Okay?’ Every sinew seemed to be pulled taut across Sadiq’s chest.

  Overcome with a wave of something that felt suspiciously tender, Samia nodded and Sadiq kept going, with almost excruciating slowness, deeper and deeper, until Samia felt as if he’d touch her very heart. And then he slowly withdrew, until he was almost out completely. This time when he thrust in the tightness had eased a little more, and a tremor of pleasure skated along Samia’s nerve-endings. Relief was overwhelming, a
nd she could feel her muscles relaxing even more.

  She bent her legs, and Sadiq groaned as he buried himself inside her. He pressed a kiss to her mouth as he started up a slow, gentle rhythm in and out that made those tremors of pleasure turn into something much stronger.

  Soon the pain was forgotten completely as she arched upwards and closer to Sadiq, chest to chest, relishing it when he slid so deep within her that she could feel no space between them. His pace quickened, his breathing grew unsteady and Samia could see the dark blush of colour staining his cheeks, the sweat on his brow.

  Instinctively wrapping her legs around him, she couldn’t help a deep moan escape her lips as an incredibly pleasurable tension wound inside her. It built and built like the waves had before, only this was about ten times more intense. The feel of Sadiq’s powerful body moving in and out with such relentless precision finally made the tension snap, and Samia gripped him tight with her thighs as his body ground into hers and she felt the warm release of his seed inside her.

  For a long moment, as the tremors of pleasure subsided in both their bodies, all that could be heard was ragged breathing and pounding hearts. Samia’s legs were wrapped tight around Sadiq, binding him to her body. She loved everything about the feel of his heavy weight, on her and in her.

  Eventually Sadiq moved and Samia had to let him go, reluctantly, wincing slightly as he extricated himself. He lay on his back beside her, eyes closed. Samia felt nakedly vulnerable and looked for a cover, but his voice stopped her.

  ‘Are you okay? Did you bleed?’ He sounded curiously detached, and it sent a sharp dart to Samia’s heart. She looked down blankly and saw that there was indeed some blood on the exquisite bedcover. An irrational wave of guilt washed over her, and embarrassment too. A cool wind seemed to be emanating from Sadiq and she wanted to be alone, to try and make sense of what had happened. One minute she’d been about to go to bed alone, and the next … she was no longer a virgin.

  ‘Yes, there’s some blood,’ she said quietly, moving to get off the bed. ‘I’ll get something to clean it.’

  An arm held her back. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ His voice was gruff.

  Sadiq got up and walked to the bathroom, switching on a light and effortlessly highlighting the supreme perfection of his physique. He was utterly unselfconscious as he disappeared, and then steam quickly filled up the cavernous bathroom. He’d obviously turned on the shower.

  With a wince as she felt how tender she was, Samia got off the bed, picking up her discarded dressing gown. She pulled it on, tying it securely with a shaking hand, and picked up her panties and nightgown too, before hovering uncertainly. She didn’t know what to do.

  Sadiq emerged from the bathroom again, steam billowing out behind him and as gloriously naked as the day he was born. Feeling absurdly embarrassed, Samia said stiffly, ‘Can you put some clothes on?’

  She averted her eyes and heard his dry response. ‘It’s a bit late for that now, don’t you think?’

  But she sighed with relief when she heard him pull up a zipper, and sneaked a look to see him finish buttoning his shirt. He picked up what she saw was a damp towel—presumably to clean the blood—and her heart beat unevenly.

  She put out a hand, mortified that he was even still here, witnessing this. ‘Please, I’ll do that. You should go. I’m sure it wouldn’t look good to be found in my room on our wedding morning.’ She attempted to sound light. ‘It wasn’t in the etiquette book.’

  It was only when Sadiq looked at Samia that he felt as if he was finally coming back to his senses. For a long moment he’d felt a little concussed. His brain numb after the onrush of too much … pleasure.

  He wanted to go and pull Samia back into his arms, carry her into the shower and wash her from head to toe himself. And then he wanted to take her back to bed and pleasure her until she couldn’t move a muscle. But something in her rigid stance made him stop. He might have suspected that he’d hurt her, but he’d felt the powerful contractions of her orgasm. She would be sore, though. She’d been so tight.

  This intensity of feeling … it had to be because she’d been a virgin. Had to be. He hadn’t even used protection, and as much as he wanted heirs he certainly hadn’t planned on this. This surge of a desire so strong that there’d been no time for a rational discussion about anything.

  Feeling exposed in a way that was becoming horribly familiar with this woman, he put down the towel and said, ‘You should have a shower. You’ll be sore.’

  Samia flushed with embarrassment and silently pleaded with Sadiq to leave so she could be alone and make sense of what happened. ‘Yes … I will.’

  She felt rather than heard him come close, and despite the tenderness in her body she was already melting and responding. He tipped up her chin so she couldn’t avoid his eyes and she cursed him inwardly. For a moment he didn’t speak, and tension coiled deep in her belly. His eyes were stormy again, and there was some emotion that made her hold her breath. Finally his mouth quirked in a tight smile. ‘I don’t think I handled that very well.’

  Samia blinked. She would imagine he hadn’t had to say anything like that to a woman for a long time—if ever. ‘What do you mean …? It was …’ She blushed even harder. ‘It was fine.’

  It had been more than fine. Sex with Sadiq had exploded the very secret fear that she might be frigid and she’d tasted paradise. Fine was a ridiculously ineffectual word for what had just happened.

  His jaw clenched. ‘I meant afterwards … I’m not the cuddly type, Samia. And I’m sorry you bled. I hope you’re not too sore. But I’m not sorry we slept together. And when we return from our honeymoon you’ll be moving into my rooms.’

  Samia’s face was stained a delicate pink that had Sadiq almost carrying her back to the bed to take her again, even though he knew he couldn’t. She had to recover. She bit her lip and looked away, before looking back with such artless sensuality that his body throbbed painfully.

  ‘I’m not sorry we slept together either … and the pain … it wasn’t so bad.’

  Sadiq could remember the way her eyes had watered, beseeching him to ease that pain. He gritted his jaw to stop himself from bending down to kiss those swollen lips. He backed away while he still could, because despite what he’d just said he was suddenly feeling the urge to offer to spend the night in her bed, just sleeping. ‘Get some sleep, Samia. You’re going to need it.’

  It was only when Sadiq had closed her door behind him that he realised he’d not planned on sharing his rooms with his wife at all. He’d planned on keeping his own private space, anticipating that the marriage bed would be purely a functional place. But suddenly everything had changed, and there was no way he could contemplate that Samia wouldn’t share his bed for the foreseeable future. He was going to find it hard enough to get through the wedding without touching her.

  He reassured himself as he walked to his own room that once his desire for her diminished they would renegotiate sleeping arrangements.

  Samia looked at the henna tattoo as the hot water sluiced down her body in the shower and saw that some of it had run and become smudged. She’d have to ask Alia to get the women to refresh it in the morning, and she wondered if they’d be able to tell what had happened.

  Her head and heart were all over the place. She wasn’t sure how she felt any more—about anything. She thought of Sadiq’s stark statement that she’d be moving into his rooms, and the prospect of repeating the intensity she’d just experienced night after night was overwhelming.

  The whole anatomy of this marriage was changing almost by the minute, resembling nothing close to what she would have imagined in London. She put her hands to her belly under the spray, recalling the warm rush of his release deep inside her. Her heart clenched. His obvious lack of concern about contraception said it all. Not to mention her part in that unforgivable oversight. But in all honesty she’d thought that they’d discuss things rationally before embarking on the physical side of things. There had been no
thing rational about tonight.

  Her hands trembled on her belly and Samia turned and rested her forehead against the marble wall while the water sluiced down her back. She could already be pregnant with Sadiq’s baby. She knew that for him it would be a mere tick on the list of his things to do after marrying his convenient wife, but for Samia the future wasn’t looking so black and white any more, and she had an awful sick feeling that all her lofty notions about love were about to be seriously challenged.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON the final and last evening of the wedding celebrations Samia felt wrung out and extremely on edge. She was sitting alone for a rare moment, in the palatial banqueting hall where she and Sadiq had repeated their vows earlier in the day for the second time, in front of a huge crowd. The wedding band was heavy on her finger, glinting in her peripheral vision like a brand. She was now married to Sadiq. He was her husband.

  He was just feet away, talking to her brother, his broad back to her, making her think of what it had been like to rake her fingernails down it to his muscular buttocks, when he’d shattered her in pieces the other night.

  She sighed deeply. She wondered now if it had been a distant dream. Sadiq hadn’t shared her bed again since then, and Samia would like to be able to say that she’d been relieved—but she couldn’t deny that at every moment over the past three days she’d been acutely aware of Sadiq and had had to battle flashbacks to the sounds of their hearts beating in deafening unison and the way he’d felt between her legs.

  It had felt wickedly decadent to know that they’d already been intimate, but that had quickly turned to frustration as Sadiq had seemed determined to keep Samia at arm’s length—sometimes visibly flinching if she touched him, even in the rare moments they’d been alone. As a result she now felt incredibly sensitive and raw. Especially after seeing all the beautiful female guests one by one making a beeline for Sadiq. She’d had to wonder which of the more cloying ones had been his lovers.