“Yes, like that,” he muttered, and a fire lit in me, heading to shut his words.
He groaned against me, and suddenly, the wetness turned into a pool of pleasure, soaking his lips. And I broke into extreme shudders of sensations running throughout me.
I whimpered at the blinding spark of orgasm as he served me a few last gentle licks and brought me down from the high of the pleasuring mountains.
I opened my eyes to his wet lips. Nothing aroused me more than his green eyes, messy hair, and wet lips.
I tried to catch my breath, and he bit his lips, muttering,“You taste sweeter after anger.” His words brought me a timid smile, and I slid down the dress.
“That doesn’t mean you’ll always make me angry,” I said, taking a few steps away from him to slip into the lower.
He stood up, sucking his lip, cleaning them with the cuff of his wrist, and I gulped with nervousness and shame.
“What was that about?” I asked, and he chuckled, wrapping the turban around his head.
“That was me apologising,” he replied, and I furrowed my brows.
“That’s how you apologise to your brothers?”
He glared at me sharply, and I shook my head.
“That’s okay; you don’t have to answer,” I said, standing before him and asking if I looked all right.
He smiled at me and took out a fake moustache from his pocket, making me giggle.
“You have a fake moustache?”
He stepped closer, kissed my nose gently, and nodded.“Yes,”
He carefully applied it to my upper lip and pressed it to the gum. I couldn’t resist stroking my fingers closer to his lips.
“You look better as a man,” he said, and I lightly slapped his chest.
“Don’t you dare,” I glared at him, and he furrowed his brows.
“Haven’t you ever felt like you wanted to be a man?” he asked.
“Why would you think that?”
He lowered his gaze briefly and said,“Every woman I’ve met has said they would want to be a man if given the chance.”
His words made my chest feel tight, but I shook my head.
“No, I’d never want to be a man,” I began, smiling weakly.“The way men are raised, they think they can take control of everything. They’re given the utmost advantage just because they are providers—whether it’s a home, kingdom, or finances. They could’ve had another woman simply because they can. They make the rules for themselves and us, and their rules are nothing but conveniences and advantages just to them. And despite all this, they want us women to be grounded and suppressed so that no other man will touch us. Imagine if men were raised with the right mentality; brothels wouldn’t be needed. However, women are often blamed for their disloyalty. They say she wouldn’t be able to fulfil his needs. I mean, how many needs do they have? Why is it always about what they want—”
“He’s dead,” he cut me off, and I inhaled sharply, remembering that he was indeed gone. The man who ruined all men for me had died.“He is gone,” he said again, wrapping his arm around me.“I know it’s been difficult. But you are brave and strong because you’ve been through what many couldn’t even imagine.”
His words weighed heavily on my chest, and I exhaled deeply, trying to calm myself.
“We should go,” I said, pulling away, and he nodded.
“Yes, but before we leave, do your hair; hide it,” he said, and I furrowed my brows, unable to think of how I would hide my long hair.
“Maybe make a bun and wrap a turban,” he suggested, and I nodded.
I quickly made a tight bun, and he wrapped the cloth around my head.
“But you still look feminine,” he said, and I thought of his shawl that I had.
