Sang e Khisht

۱۰

Bonus one.

Reeling back her fingers into place under the thick duvet filled with feathers, her limbs curled into the abysmal warmth that exuded from the toe up. The ends of her painted toenails fiddling with the thick spine of it, her skin still murmuring with the undone joy of last night. Against the backdrop of her family's misery — finding joy for her own self was a sedated, selfish crime. Yet she seemed to not care. For last night she has soared. Her body still vibrating with the emotions and touches of calloused fingers and palms. That slid over her frame.

Running to her face with an unwarranted pace the blood splattered against her pale cheeks, the tips of her ears heated in a short moment as her eyes closed on their own accord. Shadows of their figures, of his sweaty mouth and hair that brushed against her collarbones. The memory of his lips against her breast as they trailed lower and lower. His fingers leaving behind a trace of unwarranted fire, one that coursed into life through the pits of her abdomen. Fulfilling as he reached out to touch a part that she had always strayed from. A part that he had in a few hours made so used to his presence.

So much so that it throbbed even now with the reminder of how it had felt like when he had penetrated her. The throbs, the teasing tension as he brought his lips against hers. Their salivas mixing until their faces were but an entanglement of their breaths.

Golnar rested a palm against her cheek over the pillow. The weight of which sunk with a delirious softness into the feathers, a strand curling above her forehead. Whilst the rest fell against her pale frame, like a waterfall of the cleanest of soils. Her fingers teemed with a spirit of their own and the other one latched on to the coarse beard of her husband. The tip of her thumb, lightly caressed the curled rustles of it. The wisps biting into her tender skin as she pulled them over his cupid's brow. Resting it lightly against his swollen lips.

Last night had been a night she would not forget. While her husband had been handed over to her with safety, he had lost his entire family in one night. Golnar's heart throbbed in worry already — imagining how he would face his own people today. A day that was to be of merriment had just brought around the downfall of their sworn enemies, and though one would be joyous on other occasion's, she could not help but wish things had been different. That Darab had been given a chance to feel what family felt like.

Lost in the billowy depths of her ever tangling thoughts, and the pulsating rift of emotions inside her chest, she failed to notice the eyes of the man beside her open. Her thumb still brushed against his tan skin in memory, unconscious as it moved over the many littering of scars left behind by accidental cuts during shaves.

A gasp escaped her lips as his warm hand wrapped around her delicate wrist. Tugging her into his chest in one go, their bare chests pressed against one another's as he pressed a hand to the side of her face, tucking the thick messy strands of her hair behind her ear. His hand brushing the unmarred skin with undue softness. Darab's eyes — the colour of a starry night took in her docile form, her doe eyes that were pulled far too wide as they stared into his. He could only smile with half his mouth. Sliding a hand underneath her chin, lifting it until his lips just brushed against hers.

Their close proximity intensified the scent of her lemon soap. Her warm breath against his throat, and the pulses of her strong heart against his thick torso. Sweet, rapturous torture. Throwing a hand around her waist, his fingers traced circles into the flesh of her hip, his lips tracing each curve of her face. Golnar's breath hitched as he bit on to the skin of her lower lip. Tracing the dark blush that lingered across the apples of her cheeks.