My Drug Lord

Prologue

Warning: Dubious consent!!!

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The crowd, full of relatives, friends, and family applauded as the newly wed couple ascended the stairs, as a symbolism of the end of the ceremonies, and the beginning of a healthy, childbearing marriage.

Meerab loosely held Murtasim's hand, nervous of what was to happen next. Nervous and angry, to be correct.

She looked down as the sounds of cheering silenced. The stone walls, luminescent with hung torches, surrounded them as they walked up the stairs. The dark red carpet lined the floor, leading them to the room where they would legitimate their marriage. Once they reached the top of the stairs, she faltered as she saw the door to the couples' room at the end of the corridor. Murtasim's hand held her tighter, sensing her tension. He stopped and faced her. She was still looking down, now blushing under his sight. She hated it. Why had she to marry now? At the tender age of 18. She was not ready for this! She had heard of girls willing to give themselves away to men, desiring a man's touch. She was a quiet, independent girl that did not have such cravings. She just wanted the simplicity of her life, cooking, cleaning, reading, and studying.

And him, of all men!

As the drug lord, he was all brawn. As he stood in front of her, she felt he was more than a foot taller than her and twice her size. His arms were gigantic, full of muscle and his chest, with curly hair showing through his collar, was like a huge field. She felt small, insignificant, and overwhelmed in his presence. Other women would be attracted to such a height and build, but she could not help but feel intimidated. She imagined herself with someone as small as her frame or atleast lean, not a giant like him.

He seemed to be an athletic type, unconcerned with the beauty of poetry, the loveliness of nature, and the social events taking place of the time. He seemed to barely speak at all, except for the occasional angry grunt. He was solely devoted to his work, despite the amount of women who fawned over him. His life was the village he worked with.

She was still looking down at the top of the stairs, hoping that this was all some dream she could wake up from. He walked a step closer, and she trembled. He held her hand tighter and started to lead her towards the room. She grabbed onto her necklace her grandmother had given her. She was a great woman, and would have probably given her good advice about this. She gently tugged on his arm as he pulled her towards the room; she didn't want to go.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked at her.

She could not meet his eyes. She could feel their intensity boring into her. How could she bed with such an intimidating man? The fear was starting to turn to anger. She was not going to do this.

"I won't." she said softly, surprised at the sound of her own voice.

He walked closer and she could hear his heavy breathing.

"You are my wife." He said simply; strong and straight -forward.

She still looked away, and started to turn around. He held her hand tighter and gently pulled her towards him. For him, "gentle" wasn't so with her frame, and she stumbled over into his chest. She gasped and backed away quickly. She was about to run but he grabbed her waste and pulled her back to him.

"No!" she yelped as he pulled her into the room. He didn't really put that much effort, as she tugged pulled away with all her might. His strength was overwhelming, and she felt a bead of sweat run down her neck as she fruitlessly struggled against his arms.

Once they were in the room, he closed the door and faced her. She looked at him now, fear shadowing her face.

"Please. No." She pleaded softly, shaking her head. She pleaded softly, shaking her head.

He did not say anything, just walked forward and put his hands on her waist. He hungrily gazed upon her, for the first time, neck, breasts, and waist. His hands slid up and down her back as he felt the lace that held her dress together. She couldn't handle this; she pushed her hands against his shoulders with all her might. He was taken aback by this move at first, but managed to get a strong hold of her before she ran away again.

"Get away from me!" she yelled as he grabbed her from the back. She tried to pry his hands away from her waist. But he just held her closer, fully wrapping his arms around her. He nestled his face into her neck, kissing it and smelling her hair.

"Stop it! I won't!" she attempted to yell, but the feel of his lips on her bare skin sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't control it or understand what was going on - the heat was overwhelming. He continued to kiss her neck and felt tingles all over her body. She just couldn't understand what that was!

"No" she attempted to stay over and over, but couldn't finish as he continued to kiss her.

He mercifully let her go and she bolted for the door again. It was no use, she was pulled back in. He faced her, with that same hungry look in his eye. He was looking at her all over.

"I said, I won't do this!" she cried, tears starting to sting with her anger.

He stepped closer and she backed up into the cabinet next to the bed. She was trapped. He got extremely close and looked down at his bride. It was too hot, she thought, it was just too hot! Beads of sweat continued to trickle down her body.

"I am free and have the right to enjoy my wife. My beautiful-" he said, nuzzling her neck again "-wife" he finished. She struggled against him again, but felt her arms go weak as he stuck his tongue out and lick her shoulder. What was this feeling? Why had she gone weak?

"I am not your wife!" she cried, ignoring the logic of her own exclamation.

"You are" he replied simply, now starting to suck her neck. Her legs started to shake and she felt herself suddenly become moist in between her legs.

"I don't consider you my husb-" she could not finish; her voice would just go out. It was just so hot.

His arms found their way to the back of her blouse and to the ties that bound it together. As he continued to nuzzle her neck, he untied each one.

"I hate you," she whispered, desperately trying to make her quavering voice work. She was tingling all over; her body seemed overtaken by emotion. He untied all the knots and pulled down her lehenga.

A man seeing her so exposed made her blush a deep crimson. She wrapped her arms around her breasts, hoping it would make her feel more secure from his gaze. He examined her entire body, head to toe. He gazed at her shoulders, and her large bosoms, filling the corset to the brim, as if they were to burst out. Her hourglass shape made her waist small compared to her wide, curvy hips that turned into thick thighs. Her skin was smooth and a slight darker shade, unlike most other girls in the town. She was perfect to him. He wanted every single part of her.

She was breathing heavily; nervous and afraid. He looked deep into her soft honey coloured eyes, his eyes black with intensity. He had a sharp, square jaw that looked like it was clenched, as if holding in his desire. He stooped down and lifted her into his arms, placing her on the large bed. She quavered in his arms. As soon as she was on the bed, she looked around desperately for an escape. As she started to crawl over to the other side to leap over, he grabbed her wrists and brought her to him.

"I want you." He said, this time softly, as if he was telling her a long-held secret that has been burning him up inside.

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