As soon as he let go, Sahar backed up away from him, grabbed her robe, and threw it back on. She folded her arms over her belly and retreated to the other side of the room to catch her bearings--and come to terms with what had just happened. She felt confused and guilty and upset with herself--and ashamed, ashamed for wanting it at first and getting cold feet, and a little shaken that it had taken so many "nos" to get him to finally stop.
She had thought she was ready, but in truth, she had been enamored by the attention--and had tried to force herself to go along with something she didn't actually want to do. Had tried to be bold and daring.
And had realized that, maybe, no...this maybe wasn't for her after all. At least not yet.
She took several deep breaths and rubbed her face. "This one...will get you clean clothes," she said in reply to his apology, before she turned to leave. She needed to get out of the room for a bit, put some space between them, and clear her head of their roiling thoughts.