Chapter 18
Aakifah organizes her jewelry back into velvet chests and stacks them in a neat array locking the drawer responsively. She keenly gazes up to her reflection in dressing mirror and admires herself. Everyone is beautiful in his own way and so does she. Her smile however flips into a sad sigh at the remembrance at zilch genuine praises tonight. Let others aside, her own mother was solely focused on dear Khushi. Being an elder sister, she has been performing her duties well in previous days despite an unwelcomed heft on her heart.
Finishing the call with the construction manager about the final retouches to his grand office, Aqeeb pleasingly looks toward his wife. His eyes drool over her alluring self. Placing mobile on the glass table, he advances some steps to stand right beside her, bringing a complete satisfactory reflection in mirror.
With a slight rub to his cold nose, he takes time to drink in her existence. He has missed her entire time when she was gone to her parents for the preparations. He wanted to refute her departure but love-sick actions do not harmonize with his mature self.
He admires the way her lowered eyes move left to right in anticipation of his affection.
He leans down to turn the customary compliment incomparable in cooperation of his husky whisper and sharp teeth grazing her delicate earlobe. "You crafted the event ravishing with your mere smile."
Her little heart starts do summersaults at his expression of love. "Honest compliment?" She requires confirmation.
He ignores her question with slight shake of head and begins to take off her hair pins. The shine and softness of her hair itch his hands to play with them. He regrets to not notice them earlier and get married to her a few years back. "Why would I lie, honey?" He questions back.
She steals glances of his well-squared jaw, thick stubby beard and the swung romantic posture he slips only in moments of seclusion with her.
Aqeeb runs fingers through her open tresses, waving off the stiffness caused by the excessive use of hairspray to keep curls intact. "Would you go with bun tomorrow?" The unconcealed expression of love after putrefying in the unwanted despair for days startles her. He is suddenly interested enough in her hair to brush them straight and dig more details about them.
"Yeah but plans do change."
He does not waste more time and says his heart, "I missed you damn much." He holds up her chin and bends to linger a sweet kiss against her lips. "Next time you wish to stay at your parents, I would strictly prohibit."
Aakifah has been taking his permissions out of a good wife. She never went without his consent either she was required to join ladies on late night shopping and outings or she was obliged to stay towards her parents for wedding preparations. He has been reluctant each time but loved her with rawer passion at the following opportunity. She rubs the back of his palm in assurance of his wish. His happiness counts. He is her husband after all, her top notch priority.
***
Khushi scrubs the makeup fourth and the final time and shivers run down her spine at the thought of going back and be his – completely. Their previous moments were just a glimpse to the passion he will be soon demonstrating on bed.
The tension needs to be released before solely immersing in the divine pleasure of this night. She jiggles her head to shrug off anticipation. She is not petrified of him but because of her blunderbusses in the most unexpected situations. Binning the wet makeup remover, she uses the gel cream to let off the stubborn pigments of makeup. Next, she uses towel to clean her moisten shoulders and neck. The cleanser never itched her before like today. The soul credit goes to the bites. This drove her to envisage the sweet itching in post-lovemaking bath.
She tugs the dupatta from nail rack and spreads it over her shoulders. The bridal feelings hug her, again. She drums fingers on her heart to gather enough courage requisite to face his adorable and famished self. The knock startles her courage mantra and she fails to breathe for some ticks.
"You have taken enough time, Khushi. Don't be barbarous!" He whines childlike from the other side causing redder hue to kiss her cheeks at his desperateness coupled with cheerfulness.
The instant he captures her glimpse; he fierily pounds on her lips to quench his thirst. His previous childlike whining was as if false and illusionary.
"I have dealt with enough of your afflictions. Tonight onwards... I won't endure any of them." He throws off the dupatta, grips her head and stimulates a mind numbing fusion of their mouths. The urgent sucks lull her senses, assembling focus upon his existence only. He tugs her bottom lip and she feels the top hook of her buster undone. Before she can react, he sensuously tweaks the tugged lip. This pushes her to climax edge and she shoves nails in his flesh to not thaw out.
At the wake of groan at the back of his throat, her mind spouts to pleasure him more. She refreshes the grasp around his mane and leads their kiss. With the slick sucks and rough teeth, she tries to placate her fantasies of kissing him deep. She cannot stay at back when it's the matter of expressing love.
Their lips follow the famished line and kiss for good minutes. "The more you will try staying away", he breaks the kiss to alert warning, "The more I will be rough with you."
Scared she lowers eyes to his chest while caressing his darken brown nipples.
"Khushi?"
She nods in his high regard but head and eyes remain lowered and... busy.
"Sorry to discomfort you." He scrunches nose to accord displeasure about his earlier said words.
Her heavy heart guides her body to hug him. She stays against his heart for a while with closed eyes, lost in his touch. His words have certainly startled her to the point of arising goosebumps.
"Look into my eyes before I take you to bed." He murmurs in her ear while cherishing it in small nibbles and tugging sucks.
Keeping palms against his chest, she lifts her gaze sparkled with honesty, loyalty and trust. "I hold ground and sky feelings for you, Arnav. I would never judge you. Don't cover up your words thinking they might alter my feelings for you. I will always, hopelessly, admire you."
He rests his forehead against her to pay gratitude stimulated by her sweet confession. She possesses strange kind of peace in her existence.
"Are you flattering your husband, dear wife?"
"Kind of." She feigns to ponder.
"Thank you." He plants an open mouth kiss on her lips.
"Now be fast. Take me to bed. I have to show you my underwear." She hastily utters, falling weak against his lost stares and her own desperateness.
He presses his lips in a beautiful smile and again fuses their mouths. The taste of her lips has made him her servant. He can encounter any hitch to be in touch them with. He has spent years in praying hard to be the only rightful one to kiss them and luckily his prayers have been answered. Though, the imagination of their taste and feel lies numerous steps back than this reality.
His trance breaks at her fumbling touch to his bottoms. It singes his wild heartbeats. The baby he toughly patted in her absence to go a little soft wriggles in excitement against the fabric. The corporeal need blocks his thinking capacity and thus he does not wait till reaching bed and instead withdraws her bottoms bringing the worthy sight to vision – the long legs, creamy skin and scanty scarlet underwear... a perfect complementing look. She could not stray away from his desire of seeing her in red on wedding and afterwards.
His heart revises the plan of pleasuring her the most any bride has ever been. He hovers her figure and mad-caps her breasts at a few presses only. They greedily swell up in his hands and he nails the pebbled peaks rough from over the fabric.
Her wobbling legs stop working. She utters his name in guzzling need as he slides off her buster and mouths her erect bud. "Arnhaav. Please, my love."
"So... all red?" He sucks in his own bottom lip savoring in the delicious sight. Tugging her underwear from sides, he lifts her to wrap legs around his waist. "Mission successful, Captain Khushi!"
The sultry compliment cheers her to cup his jaws and frisk with the stubby beard. She is his wife and for this night, she has planned to consume every second in the most constructive mean.
"I want you more." She emphatically exhales out, muttering about her desires. The festooned bed is magnetizing her almost naked body.
She moans the loudest as he thuds them on bed and their organs coarsely contact. He has longed to be wanted by her in every single term, and her moans and pleads are as if garnishing his gratification. Lost in need, he bites her randomly on neck and shoulder. Her skin taste is delicious enough to never let him bored out.
"Stay quiet, Elza." His rebuke startles her and she gulps wiping the sweat lines formed on her forehead.
"I will die." She mumbles to herself at the cozier ambiance.
"It's me who is dead since I took you in my Nikah. Har Lamha tumhein apna banane k liye marta aur jeeta raha hoon. (I have been dying time and again to mark you mine)"
Desperately, he turns her on stomach and almost breaks the hooks fumbling with them. Once opened, he drops several wet kisses tracing her whole back from neck to waist. Gulping the lump, he takes off her underwear, too, and her posture stiffs.
Arnav struggles to regulate his marathon beats at her completely naked self under him. Few seconds later, he himself gets naked, too. Her anxiousness stirs his concern and he begins to pepper soft yet wet kisses all over her. This assists him to earn her consent and comfort.
She moans at the sweeter pressing of their bodies. The rigidness of his body is rough yet appealing. She huffs tussling with confusion of wanting more and halting the love making to this point. She might suffer a heart attack due to the swift thumping of her heart otherwise.
"Please stop teasing." She implores emphatically to cease the tropical play.
He unhurriedly turns her on bed with peppered kisses against shoulder. Her splendid naked self is puzzling him to love which part of her first, use hand or mouth or tongue. Sheer Mystification!
She jerks up and seizes his lips in a profound kiss. The more kisses are required to reconcile with the spirited sensation. Her henna cladded hands edged with square nails wander on his body going from jaw to neck to shoulder to back to hips and below. Blinking at her, he creates space in between her legs, guiding her to angle best in order to curtail the shrills of agony to the plausible level. He hopes the theoretical pose works best as his inexperienced self has him nervous himself. Hope so he does not ruin the real fun.
Leaning down, he perfectly aligns his erect manhood against her blistering opening drenched in want-fluid. He reads some supplication under his breaths and then sinks himself inside her with packed zeal. She wheezes and seizes more of his back flesh.
He halts, however, in middle missing the mark in one powerful stroke. She holds up her breaths in anticipation of ache and cry.
He scrunches his nose and slips out of her to take assistance of oil. Hope two tiny drops would not be ego-offenders!
"Hold onto me tighter." He clasps his jaws under sheer determination.
In the next tick, her shrill yelp echoes and he feels... spent and filled. Her yelp has as if enlivened his room with her rightful existence. He feels proud to finally make her his. It was such damn courageous task! His proud though knocks out in the very next moment with her heartrending sobs.
"Khushi." He pats her head in concern. Her muffles increase and she begins to wail in agony.
"Arnav, it is hurting. Damn much... Ya Allah." Tears spurt down her eyes onto the sheets. Never in his wildest dreams he thought to be the cause of her lamented lurches. He combats with his own boiling yens along the wild fervent body covered in sweat sheets to do her while affectionately handling her.
"Calm down, hush, it will go away." He stays stills, providing her time to overcome the jarring waves of agony.
She spurts more tears, clenching the peace of his heart with her sniffles.
"Khushi, meri Jaaan. Be brave. It will go away."
"It is not. I think I will expire with this pain." She wobbles her head in disbelief.
He pushes back her tresses while wiping off sweat soaked hair line and asks her will. "Hush... Should I move out?" He cannot not decide to terminate the love making session today to this point without her approval.
"No, no. Don't. I have read it in a blogpost that it pains a lot in second attempt if you don't orgasm in the first."
He smirks at her honest fortitude. Would it have been plausible for her to vent her heart out in this situation if not the comfort zone provided by her?
"Okay, you calm down... Hush. Stop weeping." He attempts to shush her while pressing her legs along wiping off the new sweat layers ruling her forehead.
Despite his gentle care, she takes her sweet time to gather wits and whispers him to move. He though complies her assent after confirming twice.
"I am okay, you move." She notions positively.
"You are damn wet." He appreciates while setting a rhythm for strokes and once he gets set he loses the rationale side of his mind. Their bodies curl in union and both begin to cherish the connection. She revels in the symphony they together create.
"Owh." His piercingly bites on her nipples while almost ramming her is playing her the best.
He groans leaving her full round from his mouth with a plop. The mounting orgasm demands his attention to hit her at the deepest and veracious spots.
She digs nails more into his flesh, scratching his skin as she trembles in orgasm.
"You are damn desirous." His groan comes in a whisper right before loading himself in her, joining her in after bliss heaves and puffs.
For few seconds, he keeps his head against her chest. Then, he begins his multi-tasking; pressing her body while lingering kisses here and there. It is as if he has not had his fill.
With one hand cupping her left breasts, he teases her with now soften manhood and wet kisses. The crazy-in-love bride pays no attention to some clean up and instead melts in his tropic touches and hot smooches.
Her heavy breathing successfully strokes his manly ego. "You have become mine. ONLY MINE." The candle light flickers allowing them clear eye contact despite desire-drowned darken orbs.
He dips his nose and tongue onto her breast, paying it the warranted attention.
"Let me breathe, husband." She asks for some moments but he seems not heeding any of her solicitations and continues to linger wet kisses all over her.
***
The sound of something falling jerks him up from sleep. Arnav takes in a deep breath and all of his sluggishness vanish at her quivering sight. She is fumbling with folded knees on Diwan and sobbing. The alluring sight of her cladded in nothing but a sweater and underwear douses his mouth though at the moment, she demands care. He nearly jumps to reach her, engulfing her in his embrace. He still remembers her hisses of last night under shower. The bites and scratches were so damn fresh. Despite wild fancies, he was not brave enough to do her again fearing her tears.
"What happened, Khushi?"
"I went to pee and it damn burned as if there are some wounds." She laments against his chest.
"Oh. I guess its infection. I have some tube already bought anticipating my delicate girl might need." He handles her like a child, requesting her to deal situation with little gallantry.
"You lay here, I apply, mm?" He softly pats her legs he massaged last night to brush off muscle pain and swiftly fetches gel tube from the top drawer of side table.
"Open." He notions brows towards her legs and she feels shy while whining in pain.
"Dear wife, say bye to shyness, eh?" He smirks, rolling down her underwear and creating distance in between her both legs with the aid of his knee. He opens the tube, extracts rich amount of gel onto his index finger and thoroughly massages her insides with it.
She sighs – more a moan – at the soothing touch. She does not notice it until seeing teasing smirk dancing over his face.
"I like the sound." He winks before extracting more gel to massage her insides well.
She successfully suppresses moans this time and but there is no control on real blush.
Once done, he sets her underwear back and cuddles her on his lap.
"Happy first married morning." He lips against her mouth and plants a wet kiss.
At his happy mood, she cheers up the curved brows and accounts back in the same romantic way.
"So, the night –" He wants to talk about something.
"Yeah, the beautiful night."
His eyes spark at her added description.
"Indeed." He pulls her closer, refreshing grip around her balled figure on his lap.
"I am hungry." She plays with the collar of his t-shirt he wore for Fajr.
Looking at the clock, she scrunches nose. It's almost midday. Her siblings must be on their way to dine breakfast with her and here she is still sitting in her husband's lap.
"Let me change and you better hurry, too."
He salutes her caution and excitement to enjoy family time after being his wife as if she has gotten something to show off; yeah, her toothy beams.
***
The pots clatter in kitchen as the maids pack the food prepared by Yasmeen with the aid of assistance.
"Don't hullabaloo much. My Khushi beta will wake up in odd mood." Yousaf utters in a jiff and the reacted expressions soon make him realize his mistake. It will sure take time to adjust with the fact that two sparrows of the home are married off.
"Yasmeen, my tea before we leave. Please." He sprints out of kitchen coming to halt in mid of living area.
Sameer Hamdani lifts head from newspaper. His deep orange-reddish frames laying on the bride of nose are complimenting his brown eyes well. Aakifah gifted him this last night and he could not resist wearing them early in the morning, right after Fajr.
"Had you felt heart contractions marrying off your daughters?" Yousaf enquires in the spur of moment.
Sameer Hamdani snickers. Back then, love marriages were not widespread. When his daughters reached the age of marriage, he has asked them of their choice at their respective times. Eerily, both of them denied and so they were tied into an arranged espousal thread. Nonetheless, his soul was pawed out when he Rukhsat his eldest daughter. He could not breath evenly till three months of her marriage and apprehensive clouds took a year to drift away.
"Be thankful, she is married to man who loves her. We are assured of her delight."
"Pray her every day turns into a merrymaking." Yousaf requests his father as the prayers of elders have more chances to get listened by Allah.
"Don't worry. If Allah wills, she will enjoy a cheerful life with Arnav." Saying so, he immerses back into the newspaper.
***
"You have not changed yet?" Arnav probes while double locking the door. He had left her in room twenty minutes back. Hamdanis are waiting in lounge to take their daughter home as per tradition and she is yet dolled in the sparkling attire of reception.
He plants kiss against her forehead to excavate the answer of her anxiety.
"I don't wish to stay the night there. Why are you adamant to send me?" She breaks in her words. Is he bored of her due to the infection? "Did all love vanish in one night only?"
"No, Khushi. I know me and my desires... If you stay I would not let you have the rest... for a minute, and your infection might go worse." He explains himself in the emotionless voice.
"Don't!" She swats him hard on chest. "What about me? I would not be able to survive a night without you." Her meek tone tries to knock his decision but as a typical man he does not alter the decision once taken.
"A husband can think of his wife's health without permissions."
Before she voices her point of sharing equal rights to decide their matter, he adds leaving no room for discussion.
She presses her lips in a thin line with curved brows. "Wow, what a wife I am!" She pities herself to earn his leniency.
He cups her jaw and bores eyes into hers. "Your family is waiting for you. Change quick."
"You change." She does not know from where the bold words erupt out of her throat. Luckily, he complies to her demand and dresses her into flaring frock paired with loose trousers and velvet shawl on her shoulder.
She checks herself in mirror to praise the final minimal make up look with herself dolled in mustard color by him. Removing the blue shawl from shoulder, she jerks it to straighten the plates and spreads it on her head. It confuses him but he stays mum and instead blesses her with a final hug before leading her outside.
As soon as the cars zoom out of Meer's porch, he feels a piece of him gone and lost. He had no other choice but send her away.
***
The henna patterned toes wiggles while deep hue covered fingers drum against the stomach of bride. She is longing peace. No one is able to provide it to her. She was wrong to give cold shoulders to her family but she has just become the wife of Arnav Raza Meer last night. Is not she rightful to demand his presence for tranquil and cheerful mood?
Her brows curve and she feels disappointed of Arnav and his decision. There was no need to force her stay towards her parents. Could not they be in their room, snuggled cozily, making soft talks while enjoying the cups of steamy and creamy coffee?
Accepting her helplessness, she puffs. Her eyes land on the other side of bed and the creases remind her of Arnav. Her life has as if has limited its happiness to his existence. Tears brim the line of eyes and she jolts up with the tone of mobile. The serenity of night certainly amplifies the sound. She grabs to check it with a hope to see his message.
Her brows curve as she reads his words. Did she wait this much to just receive a message of concern that if she slept nicely or not? How rude!
"I am good. Thank you. Good night." She replies, thinking of nothing but punch him countlessly when he comes in front of her tomorrow. He is the reason of her sour mood when he should have been the reason of her merriment.
"My beloved wife, I am missing you." He ignores her childish words and instead sends her a voice note.
"Well, that does not count any problem." She types to send. This time she knows her turned-on intensity would make it impossible to record a single word.
"Uh, I guess my newly wedded bride is having a sour mood!?"
She rolls eyes at his text and crosses arms against her chest. She does not want to send him harsh words the very next day of their marriage. She wishes she could yell at him, remind him his eagerness and pressure to push her away from him.
Her cell rings with a phone call and ponders to attend the video call or disconnect it. he is on a mission to fail her ignoring trick.
Helpless, she sets pillows behind her back and sits leisurely against the head board before picking up the call.
"Yes?" She feigns attitude as he does nothing but admire her.
"Let me admire my angry wife." He chuckles and she struggles to not melt under his one smile.
"This is so wrong, Arnav." She speaks and surprisingly she does not hear her own voice.
"Come clear, Khushi. I cannot hear you." He gets confused at the movement her lips devoid of voice.
The damn seduction has snatched her voice. She looks down in shyness. There she was rotting in his memories and now she is only focused to think about kissing him, getting touched by him and just be in his arms.
The smirk on his face deepens as he observes her biting bottom lip. Moreover, the strap line of her black brazier is on the view and she cares the least to hide it. He regrets to connect video call. His mouth dries up as he imagines to suck her full and luscious breasts. The taste and connection is still new and compelling.
Getting confirmation that she applied gel and also took prescribed tablets, he haphazardly disconnects the call. It is difficult to stay on hold when your wife looks nothing but a tempting seductress. He hopes to intently practice patience till tomorrow noon.
***
And again, I took almost a month to update. May I get back to weekly updates, sooooooon.
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