Dirty Wild Sultan 18+ A Steamy Marriage of Convenience Royal Romance

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Nasrin

I looked at the lavish interior of my hotel suite. Being a Princess of Maahnoor, I could afford to stay in a suite. The chilly breeze from the balcony ruffling my hair, laughter and music echoing in the city below. I averted my eyes to the suitcase beside the vanity. It was open, barely unpacked after arriving in Azmia for a night, using the ticket Imran had gifted me.

I ran a hand down my face, tucking the strands of my hair behind my ears. I needed to calm down and think. Be smart about the whole ridiculous ordeal. There must be a loophole.

You have to marry him. My father had said over the phone, his voice raspy with age, when I had landed in Azmia. I could hear the cruel smile in his voice. How I could ever be related to that man was a wonder on its own.

I couldn't escape to London anymore. I had a student loan to pay off and my father took care of the money that he allowed me to spend. I still had some little cash that I had earned during my part-time job at a vet clinic in London, but it wasn't enough to run away. Barely enough to survive.

Clenching my fists, I stood up from the bed and made my way to the vanity mirror. Staring back at the angry dark eyes, I promised myself that I would never marry that old man or any other consorts of my father's choice. I won't let myself suffer again. I will fight him.

The emerald jewelry of my mother glinted with the light. The golden intricate design feeling soft against the pad of my finger and the huge emerald diamond, shaped as a dewdrop hanging below it. My mother's maang tikka. She had worn it as a family tradition during her wedding and gave it to me on her deathbed, promising me to wear it when I marry the person I love. She had regretted marrying my father, but she loved her children, loved us. So she wanted me not to repeat her mistake. Choose my heart over anything else.

I will keep that promise, Mother. Saying that to myself, I safely kept the jewelry in the drawer.

With a little hope, I stripped out of the jeans and tee shirt, donning a stunning black dress that felt liquid on my skin. Barely leaving anything to the imagination and accentuating my hips and curves, ending at my thigh. I adjusted the cleavage and the thin straps before applying minimal makeup.

Azmia was well known for its popular bars and clubs. Rumor had it that many celebrities and even royals themselves liked to party in the clubs. I could take a night off that I very well deserved and enjoy New Year's Eve.

***

Tipping my head back, I swallowed the gin, licking my lips as I kept the glass on the counter. Pop music played in the background, people dancing and laughing on the stage, neon lights flashing over everyone's bodies, glistening with sweat. I eyed the throng of the strangers' faces, everyone enjoying in their own bubble, drinking, dancing, grinning.

Only half an hour left before the new year.

I hesitated only for a moment when the music changed to something heady, flowing between everyone, caressing my bare arms as if urging me to dance like a sensual lover. No one was going to give me another look here. No one knew that I was Princess Nasrin, the only Princess of Maahnoor. No one would care.

And if they did, they could very well go fuck themselves with a stick up their ass.

With my chin high, I stepped onto the dance floor, the music thrumming in my veins, the aftertaste of gin coating my mouth, encouraging me to close my eyes and move. Move my body the way I wanted it to, without the judgement of others. Just me and the music.