23 Nasrin

23

Nasrin

The way he said it and ordered my body to move on his command was surreal. His onyx eyes were pinned on me, raking over my body as if he was touching me and licking every inch of my skin. I watched him lean back, his powerful, muscular body glowing in the moonlight. Every contour of his abs and muscles of his golden skin were on display.

Keeping my mouth from watering, I leaned back, my ass perched on the velvet fabric, and lowered my hand from my aching breasts to my waist. His eyes followed my hands, his own fingers working on the zipper of his pants. Lower. I sighed, closing my eyes when my fingers caressed the sensitive clit.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Nasrin,” he said, his voice laced with arousal.

I did, and watched him through my lashes. My powerful sultan. My handsome husband. My Zain.

My eyes trailed over his body, his hands lowering the dark boxers. I licked my lips at the sight of his cock, the tip leaking with precum, when he gently stroked his veiny shaft