The Emir's Forbidden Flame

Chapter 4: Dangerous Bargain

(Sienna POV)

The heavy conference room door clicked shut, sealing us inside. Silence pressed down on me like a weight. I rose slowly from my chair, heart hammering against my ribs as Hasan stood only a few feet away, watching me with those dark, predatory eyes.

“You bastard,” I hissed, my voice trembling with rage. “You knew. You knew who I was the entire time and you sat there like nothing happened.”

Hasan’s expression remained calm, but his eyes burned. He took one step closer, powerful and unhurried, like a king who had all the time in the world.

“I did not know until you walked through that door,” he said, his deep accented voice low and controlled. “I woke up this morning to an empty bed and a woman who ran from me. I had my people searching for you, Sienna. And then you appeared… as my future wife.”

I laughed bitterly, backing up until my hips hit the edge of the long mahogany table.

“Future wife? You wanted to cancel this marriage. My uncle said so. You were looking for an exit. So why the sudden change of heart, Hasan? Was last night some kind of game to you?”

He closed the distance in two strides, towering over me. The scent of his cologne — sandalwood and spice — wrapped around me, triggering vivid memories of his naked body moving against mine.

“It was never a game,” he growled. “I wanted to cancel because I had no interest in marrying a stranger chosen by my lawyers and your dead father. But then I met you. The woman who challenged me. The woman who moaned my name while she came apart on my c**k. The woman who ran before I was finished with her.”

Heat flooded my face and between my thighs. I hated how my body responded to his crude words.

“That night was a mistake,” I snapped, even as my n*****s tightened beneath my conservative dress. “I slept with you because I wanted one night of freedom before being forced into this… this arranged prison. You were supposed to be a stranger I would never see again.”

Hasan’s large hand came up, bracing against the table beside me, caging me in. His other hand lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.

“And yet here we are,” he murmured, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Destiny has a sense of humor, it seems. You ran from me this morning, Sienna. But you cannot run from this.”

I slapped his hand away, anger and unwanted desire warring inside me.

“I don’t want this,” I said, voice cracking. “I don’t want to be bought and sold like one of my father’s cargo ships. I don’t want to belong to a man I barely know — even if he can make my body scream.”

A dangerous smile curved his lips. “Yet your body already knows me, doesn’t it? I can see it in the way you’re breathing. The way your thighs are pressing together right now.”

Before I could deny it, he leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, possessive, and furious — exactly like our night together. I tried to push him away, but my hands ended up fisting in his expensive shirt instead. A desperate moan escaped me as his tongue invaded my mouth, claiming me.

I hated him. I wanted him. The contradiction made me dizzy.

Hasan’s hands roamed down my body, gripping my waist and lifting me onto the conference table. Papers scattered to the floor as he stepped between my thighs, pressing his hardness against me.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against my neck, biting down gently. “Say it, and I will.”

I should have said it. I should have pushed him away and walked out.

Instead, I pulled him closer.

“Shut up,” I whispered, attacking his mouth again.

Clothes were shoved aside rather than removed. Hasan pushed my dress up to my waist, yanking my panties down my legs in one rough motion. His fingers found me already wet and slid inside without warning. I gasped sharply, gripping his shoulders as he pumped two thick fingers in and out, curling them perfectly against that spot that made me see stars.

“So wet for me already,” he growled. “Even when you’re angry.”

“f**k you,” I moaned, rocking against his hand.

He chuckled darkly. “You already did that last night, habibti. And you’re going to do it again.”

He freed himself from his trousers. His c**k was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. Without another word, he gripped my hips and thrust into me in one powerful stroke.

I cried out, nails digging into his back through his shirt. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but so good. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He f****d me hard and deep right there on the conference table, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoing in the large room.

Every thrust pushed me closer to the edge. I wrapped my legs around his waist, meeting him with equal desperation. This wasn’t lovemaking — this was angry, hate-filled need.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice rough.

I met his eyes as he drove into me. The intensity there stole my breath. He reached between us and rubbed my c**t with skilled fingers, pushing me over the edge.

I came hard, biting his shoulder to muffle my scream as my walls clenched tightly around him. Hasan groaned, thrusting faster, chasing his own release. With a deep, guttural sound, he buried himself to the hilt and came inside me, pulsing hot and strong.

For several long moments, we stayed locked together, breathing heavily. His forehead rested against mine.

Slowly, reality returned.

I pushed at his chest. He stepped back, adjusting his clothes while I quickly pulled my dress down and searched for my panties with shaking hands.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I said, voice hoarse. “I still don’t want this marriage.”

Hasan tucked himself away and straightened his ragalia, looking infuriatingly composed again.

“You will come with me to the UAE,” he stated, as if it were already decided. “One week. See my world. See who I am. If you still wish to leave after that, I will consider releasing you from the full contract — with proper protection for your family’s company.”

I stared at him, stunned. “And if I say no?”

His eyes darkened. “Then I walk away from this deal completely. Your company dies. Your mother loses everything. The choice is yours, Sienna.”

I hated him in that moment. Hated how he held all the power. Hated how my body still craved him even now.

But I also knew I had no real choice.

“Fine,” I whispered. “One week. But I’m not promising anything else.”

A satisfied smile touched his lips. “Good. We leave.”

Arrival in the UAE

The private jet touched down smoothly in Abu Dhabi under the blazing desert sun. My nerves were shot. I had barely slept on the long flight, too aware of Hasan’s presence and the ache still lingering between my thighs from what we’d done in New York.

As the aircraft door opened, cameras flashed everywhere. Reporters and palace staff waited on the tarmac. Hasan placed a hand on my lower back, guiding me forward.

A reporter shouted, “Emir Rafiq! Is this the American woman from the business arrangement? Are wedding plans underway?”

Hasan paused at the top of the stairs, pulling me closer to his side. I expected him to announce our engagement.

Instead, he said calmly, “This is Sienna. She is my consort.”

Consort.

Not fiancée. Not wife.

The word hit me like a slap. Whispers spread through the crowd. I stood frozen beside him, humiliation burning through me as we descended the stairs toward a waiting Rolls Royce Phantom.

In the car, I finally turned to him, voice shaking with anger.

“Consort?” I hissed. “After everything you said about making me your queen?”

Hasan looked at me, his expression unreadable.

“Tradition and politics demand caution, Sienna. Announcing an American wife immediately would create enemies. For now, you are my consort. In private… you are already so much more.”

I turned away from him, staring out at the golden desert landscape as the palace gates loomed ahead.

I had agreed to come.

But I was starting to realize just how dangerous this man — and his world — truly was.