Taken As Reward (The war of politics and love BOOK 2 )

18. Rooh

He didn't shy away when he reached for my half-popped breasts because of the low-cut blouse and the fact that I was sleeping earlier,

I felt something, something very hard even through the layers of my ghagra, on the center of my waist, was it just a morning action or was that erection my doing?

I questioned myself, when he reached for my half-popped chest, and kept a kiss on of them, resting my head back again, he bent himself completely as he reached for my belly, my naked belly, and leaving me to moan on the tickle he afflicted on me when his wet tongue trailed my belly and reached my belly button, I was surprised at his kiss on it,

His erection skidded from my bottom to move down, when his huge hand caught either side of my hip, and he kissed right above the waistband which was the last possible showing skin on my body his tongue didn't travel,

He kept a kiss on it, before I came over the top of me again, his face closer to me, "Oh! Zehra, it's torture for me! Greatest torment the world has to offer me, having you right before me, and I can't have you. Why owning you is different than having you? Why can't I taste your pussy just the way I tasted your body?" he asked me, words I never presumed I will hear from him.

He parted my lips with his finger as he pushed his thumb inside, "I want to claim all the openings in your body, with your mind and soul. I want to own your heart just the way I own you as a person! I want to own your yesterday, your today, and whatever there is in the future. How do I do that?" he asked me, as he kept his head on the top of mine,

"Love me! Zehra! Please love me! Please ask me to have you, please ask me to inflict that pain and pleasure on you, ask me to make you mindless, to make you blind-sighted! Please ask me, Zehra," he requested,

He is doing this, and then asking for consent?

He awoke the most ridiculous thoughts in my head, once again playing me like a game, such a mastermind, his head still on me,

"You want to have me Daiwik?" I asked him, perhaps the first time calling him by his name when in my head I must have said it hundred times.

"No," He responded quickly, "I want you to want me to have you," He said, baffling me, "Apni ye rooh mere hawale kar do, Zehra, isse pehle meri rooh kho jaye, apna banake bandh lo isse!" (Give me your soul, Zehra and make mine yours before I lose it) he asked me, rubbing his head on me, cupping both my cheeks.

Tears welding in my eyes, he wants something from me. More than just what our bodies want, how can I give him something I don't have anymore?

"Mai wo kaise de du, jo mere paas hai hi nahi, Daiwik?" (How can I give you something I don't have anymore?) I asked him, crying, tears sliding from my face.

He shook his head, "You do!" He spoke with certainty, more confidence than I have in myself. "You have your soul Zehra, you have that warm heart, the same one I fell in love with hidden somewhere, I want it back, I want you to love me the same way you loved me, why did you change? Why do those eyes no longer glow when I stare into them, why does that smile doesn't stuns the world like it used to? Why you gave yourself away to every single person who tore you but chose not to give it to someone who has broken himself for you?" He asked me, his questions leaving me perplexed.

What can I say?

I had nothing,

"Give me my Zehra back!" He asked me, I muffled under my breath, couldn't control my cries,

"I want to claim your entire body. And don't want you to do it as a duty. Give me my Zehra back to me in more than physically. When you never reacted to my candor I was sure I lost you, but when you showed your anger to me last night! A certainty that a part of you lives somewhere inside that heart! Don't kill it, give it to me!" He forced me,