Chapter 2

Zahra’s heels clicked against the polished floor of the hotel ballroom, her powder-blue dress swaying with each step as she re-entered the glittering space on Jake’s arm. Half an hour ago, she’d been a mess—hair tangled, lipstick smeared, her body still tingling from Jake’s cock filling her in the gardens. A quick escape to the washroom had restored her elegance: her thick black hair now fell in smooth tresses, her makeup refreshed, though her cheeks still held a flush she couldn’t quite hide. Jake, beside her, looked as effortlessly handsome as ever, his tuxedo pristine, his blond hair only slightly tousled, a secret reminder of her hands gripping it.

The past half hour had bolstered her spirits. Conversations with her younger nephews and nieces—Layla’s cousins, who’d hugged her warmly and gushed over Jake’s charm—had eased the knot in her chest. Their support, their lack of judgment, made her feel seen, not as a scandal but as a woman reclaiming her life. She held Jake’s arm a little tighter, his muscular bulk a reassuring anchor in the sea of chandeliers and clinking champagne glasses. His presence steadied her, and the memory of their gazebo fuck sent a pulse of heat through her core, even as she scanned the crowd for more threats.

The ballroom buzzed with energy, waitstaff weaving through guests, the band playing a soft jazz tune. Zahra felt eyes on her—some curious, some hostile—but the warmth of her younger relatives’ acceptance made her chin lift higher. Jake leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re killing it, Zahra,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. She smiled, her nerves sparking with a mix of pride and desire, but before she could respond, a shadow fell over her.

Her mother, Shirin, stood before her, her silver-streaked hair pinned in a severe bun, her dark eyes blazing with disapproval. Her emerald sari rustled as she stepped closer, her voice sharp. “Zahra, what are you doing?” she hissed. “Parading around with this ... boy, disgracing our family in front of everyone?”

Zahra’s stomach twisted, her confidence wavering. She gripped Jake’s arm, his solidity grounding her. “Maman, I’m just here to celebrate Layla’s wedding,” she said, her voice steady but tight. “Jake’s my date. There’s no disgrace in that.”

Shirin’s lips pursed, her gaze flicking to Jake, who stood calmly beside Zahra, his expression polite but unyielding. Before Zahra could say more, her aunts, Parvaneh and Fariba, joined the fray, their ornate dresses glittering under the chandeliers. Parvaneh’s voice was a low, venomous whisper. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Zahra. Divorced, and now this child on your arm? What will people say?”

Fariba nodded, her gold bangles clinking. “Reza was a good man, and you threw it away. Now this? He’s young enough to be your son!”

Zahra’s cheeks burned, the weight of their words pressing down on her. She felt the eyes of nearby guests—family friends, distant cousins—pretending not to listen, their whispers spreading like wildfire. Her heart raced, but Jake’s arm under her hand was a rock, his presence a shield. She straightened, her voice rising. “I didn’t throw anything away. Reza cheated on me. And Jake’s here because I want him to be. I’m done living for your approval.”

The words felt like a rebellion, but before her mother could retort, a slurred voice cut through the tension. Reza staggered forward, his tie loosened, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His young secretary clung to his arm, her face uneasy, but Reza’s eyes were fixed on Zahra, dark with drunken rage. “You’re flaunting this kid to humiliate me, aren’t you?” he bellowed, loud enough to make heads turn. “Parading your little boy toy like some cheap slut!”

Zahra froze, the insult slicing through her. The ballroom seemed to hold its breath, guests’ murmurs growing louder, some shocked, others smirking. Her mother gasped, her aunts muttering in Persian, but Zahra’s eyes stung with a mix of shame and fury. She opened her mouth to snap back, but Jake stepped forward, his movement smooth, his voice calm yet edged with steel.

“Reza, that’s enough,” Jake said, his blue eyes locked on the older man. “Zahra’s here to celebrate her niece, not to deal with your tantrum. You’re embarrassing yourself, not her.” His tone was firm, charming in its confidence, but carried a warning that made Reza blink. Jake’s hand rested lightly on Zahra’s lower back, his touch steady, and he turned to her mother and aunts, his smile disarming. “Mrs. Shirin, Parvaneh, Fariba, I get that this looks unconventional, but Zahra’s happy. Isn’t that what matters? Let’s all enjoy the night.”

Zahra’s breath caught, her body responding to Jake’s defense before her mind could process it. His manliness—the way he stood tall, his voice commanding yet polite, his muscular frame a solid wall beside her—sent a rush of arousal through her. Her pussy throbbed, the memory of his cock filling her in the gardens flashing vivid in her mind. His willingness to stand up for her, to face down her family and her ex without flinching, made her heart race and her skin flush. She leaned into his touch, her fingers tightening on his arm, a silent thank you.

Shirin’s eyes narrowed, but Jake’s charm softened her posture slightly. “This isn’t over, Zahra,” she said, her voice colder now. “We’ll talk later.” She turned, her aunts following, their whispers trailing behind them like poison.

Reza swayed, his face red, but Jake’s steady gaze held him in check. “You’re nothing, kid,” Reza muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. He stumbled back to his secretary, who tugged him away, casting an envious glance at Jake.

The crowd around them resumed their conversations, pretending not to have noticed, but Zahra felt the shift in the air. Whispers of gossip spread—about her “scandalous” date, her ex’s outburst—but so did murmurs of admiration. Women eyed Jake, their gazes lingering on his chiseled jaw, his broad shoulders, some whispering about how lucky Zahra was. Men, too, cast appraising looks, some jealous, others impressed. The attention was a double-edged sword, but Jake’s hand on her back made it bearable.

“You okay?” Jake asked, leaning close, his voice low and warm. His fingers pressed gently against her spine, sending another spark of desire through her.

Zahra nodded, her throat tight, her body humming with need. “Thank you, Jake,” she said, her voice soft but fervent. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with that wicked edge she was starting to crave. “Oh, I wanted to,” he said. “Nobody talks to my girl like that.” The possessiveness in his tone made her pussy clench, and she bit her lip, fighting the urge to drag him somewhere private right then.

Instead, she squeezed his arm, her smile shaky but genuine. “Let’s get a drink,” she said, needing a moment to steady herself. As they moved toward the bar, Jake’s hand stayed on her, his presence a constant reminder of his strength, his defense, and the heat they’d shared. The ballroom’s judgment still loomed, but with Jake beside her, Zahra felt a flicker of defiance.

As they approached the bar, Zahra’s eyes caught the coat check room, its door slightly ajar, the counter momentarily unattended. A reckless idea sparked, fueled by the thrill of Jake’s defense and the lingering taste of him from when she’d licked him clean in the gardens. She stopped, her powder-blue dress shimmering under the chandeliers, and leaned close to Jake, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Forget the bar, Jake. I have a better idea.”

His blue eyes glinted with amusement, catching her intent. “Oh yeah? Lead the way, princess,” he murmured, his tone teasing but eager.

Zahra giggled, a giddy sound that surprised her, her nerves alight with excitement. “I want to thank you for what you did back there,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “And anyway, I’m craving something ... more substantial to drink.” Her words were bold, playful, and she felt a rush of power as Jake’s grin widened, his hand squeezing her waist.

She glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, then tugged him toward the coat check. They slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind them, muffling the ballroom’s noise. The room was dim, lined with racks of furs and coats, their rich scents mingling with the heat of her anticipation. The staff were absent—likely fetching a guest’s coat—and Zahra’s pulse quickened at the risk. She led Jake between the racks, her heels sinking into the plush carpet, until they reached the back wall, hidden from view.

In a sudden surge of assertiveness, Zahra pushed Jake against the wall, her hands firm on his chest. His tuxedo stretched over his broad frame, and she felt the hard muscle beneath, her pussy clenching at his strength. She sank to her knees, her dress pooling around her, and her fingers moved to his pants, deftly unzipping them. Jake’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as she fished out his semi-erect cock. It was already thickening, the familiar length and girth making her mouth water. She giggled again, giddy with desire, her voice soft but teasing. “I liked the taste I got earlier, Jake. I want more.”

“Fuck, Zahra, you’re gonna kill me,” Jake groaned, his voice low and rough as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, feeling it harden under her touch. She looked up at him, her dark eyes locked on his, and leaned forward, her lips parting to envelop his thick, throbbing cockhead. The taste hit her instantly—salty, musky, with the faint tang of her own pussy lingering from their gazebo fuck. She moaned softly, the vibration humming against him, and Jake’s groan deepened, his hips shifting slightly.

Zahra’s lips stretched around his cock, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head, savoring the smooth texture and the pulse of his veins. She sucked gently at first, her mouth warm and wet, drawing another groan from Jake. “Goddamn, that’s it, baby,” he rasped, his dirty talk igniting her arousal. “Suck that big dick like you mean it. You look so fucking hot on your knees.”

His words sent a shiver through her, her pussy soaking her panties as she bobbed her head, taking him deeper. Her tongue worked along the underside, tracing the thick vein, tasting the mix of their earlier sex. She loved the weight of him in her mouth, the way he filled her, the raw masculinity of his scent and taste. Her hands rested on his thighs, feeling the power in his muscles, and she sucked harder, her lips sliding up and down, her pace quickening. The coat check’s muffled quiet amplified every sound—her soft moans, Jake’s groans, the wet suck of her mouth.

Jake’s hands moved to her hair, his fingers tangling in her thick black tresses, careful not to ruin her carefully fixed style. He guided her gently at first, his touch firm but controlled, setting a rhythm that made her pussy throb. “Fuck, Zahra, you’re so good at this,” he growled, his voice steady despite his obvious pleasure. “Take it deeper, baby. Let me feel that throat.”

Zahra’s arousal spiked at his calm, manly control, the way he took charge without overpowering her. She relaxed her throat, letting him guide her, his cock sliding deeper until she felt the head brush the back of her mouth. She gagged slightly, but the sensation only fueled her desire, her eyes watering as she looked up at him. His gaze was intense, possessive, and she loved how he watched her, his hands steady in her hair, his hips rocking subtly to meet her movements.

“That’s my girl,” Jake said, his voice a low rumble. “Suck it just like that. You’re making me so fucking hard.” His dirty talk washed over her, each word stoking the fire in her core. She bobbed her head faster, her tongue swirling, her lips tight around his shaft. The taste of her pussy on him was intoxicating, a reminder of how he’d fucked her senseless, and she moaned around his cock, the vibration drawing another groan from him.

Jake’s grip tightened slightly, his fingers threading deeper into her hair, guiding her with more insistence. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” he said, his tone rougher now, laced with lust. “On your knees, sucking my cock in a room full of coats. You’re so fucking dirty, Zahra.” His control, his confidence, made her feel wild, desired, and she sucked harder, her head moving in sync with his hands, her pussy dripping with need.