Sultan(18+)

A war to proceed

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     Sultan held Mishti close, her trembling body pressed against his solid frame.

      He felt a deep sense of guilt wash over him, his heart aching at the fear he saw in her eyes.

        Gently, he placed a tender kiss on her shoulder, eliciting a small gasp from the young woman.

   The voice in his mind grew louder, urging him, tempting him.

       'Take her. Show her what a man you are. After all, she is yours to marry.'

           Sultan couldn't control the burning desire that consumed him. He leaned in, his breath caressing Mishti's face as he gazed upon her satin red nightdress.

His fingers itched to untie the delicate knot that held the fabric in place, to expose the innocence that radiated from her.

            "You have an innocence about you that makes me feel like a man," he whispered, his voice laced with a mix of longing and possessiveness. "I want to protect you, cherish you, and do all the forbidden things with you."

             Mishti's sobs echoed in the room as Sultan closed the distance between them, his lips just barely grazing hers. The young woman's eyes were wide with terror, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

            The voice in Sultan's mind grew louder, urging him to claim what he believed was his.

         But deep down, a glimmer of conscience remained, pleading with him to stop, to see the pain he was inflicting on the woman he was supposed to love and protect.

       Mishti's body trembled with fear as Sultan leaned in closer, his eyes filled with a desperate hunger. Her heart raced, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, as his sultry lips quivered, aching to press against hers and taste her sweetness.

    Sultan couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He pressed his face into the soft warmth of Mishti's bosom, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

      His mind screamed at him, reminding him that she was still not yet eighteen - that this was wrong. But the allure of her creamy skin was too much to bear.

         Mishti clenched the bed sheets, paralyzed with terror, as Sultan traced kisses along her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips. In a moment of wild abandon, he blurted out, "Mishti, let's get married today, now! I want to feel your naked skin against mine."

        The words hung in the air, thick with desire and tainted by the knowledge of her tender age. Mishti's eyes went wide, her whole body seized by blue-tinged fear.

              Then, as if a veil had been lifted, Sultan snapped back to his senses. "I-I'm so sorry," he stammered, his voice cracking with regret. He had let his primal urges cloud his better judgment, nearly crossing an unforgivable line.

             His heart raced as their eyes met. Sultan instinctively pulled away, his body recoiling at the intensity of her gaze. Mishti curled up sideways, her small frame trembling.

            Realizing his mistake, Sultan felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

           Mishti did not respond, her eyes downcast. An uneasy silence hung in the air.

          Frustrated, Sultan let out a frustrated tsk, almost shouting, "Mishti, stop crying!"

             She flinched at his raised voice, her body tensing. Seeing the fear in her eyes, Sultan's expression softened.