The sound of the royal horse galloping in the golden sand surrounded us. Even with the loud wind blowing against us, I could hear Nasrin thinking after knowing that I was inexperienced the night we met.
I wasn’t ashamed of it, but seeing my wife tense around me made me feel embarrassed. Just for a moment, I wished I had taken heed of Khalid’s advice and had some experience in pleasuring women so I could ease whatever Nasrin was overthinking about.
With a clipped voice, I told her to cover her nose when the sand of the desert started flowing with the wind. I wrapped the keffiyeh around my nose, covering my mouth and neck, watching Nasrin’s finger fumble with the knot.
“May I?” I asked, speaking for the first time, knowing full well she was panicking over my virginity.
She nodded tersely, holding the reins and leading the horse while I gently tied the knot of the fabric, making sure her nose and mouth were covered.
Nasrin asked, “Where are we going?”
“To see the sunset,” I said. “But if you want to go back, we can—”
“No, I would like to see the sunset with you, Zain.”
There was gentleness in her voice despite her reaction when she came to know the truth of my sex life. Surely she must have thought of a plan in the Nasrin way. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking about. If my inexperience had embarrassed her or… surprised her.
Or something much worse?
“This is…” Nasrin started, her voice a small whisper when the horse slowed down, stopping on the top of a sand dune.
I jumped down, holding her hand and waist as I lowered her on the sand, careful not to touch her anywhere inappropriate or stare too long at her marvelous breasts. I reined in my arousal and watched how her brown eyes were bright, like molten chocolate, in awe at the view.
I was in awe, too.
How could she look more beautiful than before after riding a horse in the desert? With her ruffled hair framing her face, her wide grin at the scenery ahead of us and laughing when she brushed the horse’s mane, hearing him snort again.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I lowered my keffiyeh and stood beside her. Two hundred years ago, both of our families had joined to fight off the attack from our neighboring country. I could remember my father talking about the Great Sand War held in the desert where his great grandparents had fought. That we should be thankful to have Al Latif blood running in our veins.
But that was the excuse he gave himself when he wanted to teach me and Khalid a lesson, punishing us and beating us when we didn’t follow in his footsteps.
“Hey…” Nasrin stood across from me, “Are you okay?”
“I was thinking about the Great Sand War.”
Holding my hand in hers, she laid her head on my shoulders. I tried not to overthink about the casual gesture, similar to the kiss she had given me earlier in the study. Instead, I focused on the jasmine scent of hers, her soft breaths.
“Why are you thinking about the past, Sultan? All I see is the beautiful scenery of the setting sun, standing beside my husband.”
I flickered my eyes to hers. “To know your future and be a better ruler than our ancestors, it is important to remember the past. I don’t want to be like my father.”
“Salman Al Latif? My father used to gloat about their friendship and looked up to him for any guidance.” She squeezed my hand, noticing the hard lines on my face when she said the name of that man. I never wanted to hear her utter that name again. “Was he not a good person?”
“He was not a good person, husband or a father.”
There was a silence between us that stretched for a few moments.
Nasrin said, “From how I see it, Zain, you are not at all like your father. You are a good person, even though you act cold sometimes. A good husband? Hmm, ask me about it in a week because we got married yesterday. You are a great brother to both Khalid and Zara, trying to understand them, so I can guess that you’d be a brilliant father.”
I looked down at her, and she was gazing up at me with a small smile. “You think so?” I asked.
I had never thought that I was a good person or that I could be a better father than my father was. But hearing Nasrin say that to me with a proud smile made my heart thud loudly in my ears. It meant something special and precious when she said that.
“I know so, Sultan.”
I was aware of her little palm in mine, the soft pads of her fingers caressing my knuckles. The closeness between us. The way I felt when she stood beside me with her hair in loose tendrils and her tanned skin glowing, smiling at me with her pretty lips and brown doe eyes.
I wanted to hold her closer and kiss her. Fuck. I wanted to kiss her badly.
“Nasrin,” I said. “I am going to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded, a whisper of ‘yes’ coming out of her lips before I covered them with mine. I sighed, and she gasped at the tingle of our lips, kissing each other with gentleness and curiosity.
Everything faded but her. Her soft body pressing closer to mine, her hands tangling in my hair. The way she moaned sweetly when I pressed my hand on her lower back, urging her closer.
“Zain,” she gasped.
“Nasrin,” I breathed, pulling away and panting to catch my breath when she did the same. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated, and her lips… so tempting and inviting.
“Was that okay?” I heard myself ask, my voice deeper than before, my hands cupping her face, her fingers clutching my shirt tightly.
“More than okay,” she replied, and leaning up on her toes, she brushed her lips over mine. Her eyes peered up at me. “Can we do that again, Sultan?”
I smiled at her. “Your wish is my command, Sultana.”
We kissed again.
And some more.
I pulled her on top of me in the middle of the empty desert, the horse neighing as we laughed and kissed once again. Her hair tangled in my hands when she kissed me with sweet passion.
We had to stop because the sun had set, and the sky was slowly turning dark. I had held her close on our ride back to the palace, her hands entwined with mine when she leaned back against me.
“Why do you both look like you wrestled in the sand?” Khalid taunted when we walked hand in hand into the palace.
Our clothes were disheveled, hair mussed with sand covering us, but our faces were glowing. We must have resembled two kids who had the time of their life playing in the sand.
“Maybe we did, Khalid,” Nasrin answered with her chin high. “I tackled my Sultan in the desert and won.”
My Sultan.
My brother raised his eyebrow at her, giving me a look and smirking at both of us. “Sure, you did, Sultana. You have certainly made my brother speechless.”
I glared at his smug smile. “Excuse us, Khalid. We need to wash off the sand and let jadati know we will take our dinner in our room.”
“Just the dinner or tomorrow’s breakfast, too?” He teased.
Nasrin was hiding her laugh when my cheeks felt warm. “Get out of my sight before I punch you, Khalid.”
My wife held my hand and dragged me away from there, leaving Khalid to chuckle behind us.
“I apologize for my brother’s behavior, I will scold—”
“Zain.” Nasrin grinned at me, “It’s okay, Khalid was mocking us like all siblings do.”
I nodded at her, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. We were walking back to our room when someone rushed into us.
“I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going—”
Nasrin apologized quickly to the young woman with short hair…
“Zara?” I asked, bending down on my knees to look at her face. “Zara, what happened?”
Her hazel eyes were red and swollen as tears slid down her cheeks. I pulled her into a hug, squeezing my eyes shut when she sobbed into my neck, apologizing to me. I noticed she had chopped her hair off to her chin, and I knew something had happened, but I needed to make sure she was okay.
“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I forgive you for everything,” I murmured, wiping away her tears as she heaved and drank the water that Nasrin had brought us.
“I am so sorry, Zain. I was being so stupid, sneaking away like that,” Zara said, her hazel eyes on the ground. “I wanted to go out of the palace and have some fun.”
I shared a look with Nasrin, begging her to help me with my eyes. Growing up, it was a rare sight to see Zara cry. Even if she fell and bruised her elbows or knees, sprained her ankle, she never cried. Just laughed it off. She only ever sobbed and cried like that once. For Khalid after he had killed our father.
“It’s okay, sweet. See? Your brother forgave you. He was not mad at you for wanting to go out. We can talk about it after dinner. Until then, let me help you with your hair, okay?”
Zara looked at me and then at Nasrin. She finally nodded, “Thank you, Nasrin.”
I stood up and watched Nasrin take my sister back to her room, talking to her in a soft voice. I had to find out why she was so hurt that she cut her own hair. For as long as I remember, Zara loved her long, wavy coal hair. She must have been furious and sad to chop it off.
I needed to talk to Khalid.