Proceed with caution.

Chapter 20.

Aligning his feet with the carpets laid laterally over the chipping wooden flooring — a piece of it's momentous character, his shoes shuffled it aside. Tipping with his heels he pushed them aside, the socks slid out and hands washed from the cold water that ran through the faucet, he followed behind Barekhna. From the cold winds — that had strength enough to scare any man away. The floors were tampered with. His feet relaxed with the tensions slipping out through the very aches of his tired legs. A hand in his pocket, a mind full of chills and a heart laden with glee he sat on the floor cushions.

The low rise coffee table set in the centre of the room, a chandelier above it burning soft enough to make it easier to see — but not an annoying bright to ruin the romantic airs. Gold candelabras surrounded their dinner. Set in trenches, the gravies flooded his senses, the aroma of the spices blended into a mist of home. Porcelain plates on either side with their names in gold calligraphy, with wine glasses filled already with what he thought was a mint infused lemonade. Oils glistened on the grains of rice, thick noodles and a tray of braised baby ribs covered the spread.

Barekhna's thin fingers gripped the serving spoon, with softness they flooded his plate in silence, even as his gaze burned her skin. The arms she was glad, were covered in a thick maroon — the flush of her skin would have otherwise been hard to hide. Steam blew across their faces, ever fragrant the green onions blessed their nostrils with a sweetness. Using a fork she pushed a piece of ribs into his plate, the reduced sauce grazing her skin. It was silent and the air moved not a single inch from it's place. Only the crackles of the dishes and the soft sounds of their gulps as they prepared for the feast.

Taking the spoon with roses etched into it's stem he mixed the rice around, the enrichment from the gravy turned the off white grains into a red. Much like what happened to his heart when it was around — when it thought of Barekhna. It turned a deep, unforgivable shade of red, so strong it's stain was left on for months. Aliyaar's lips pressed against the cold glass, the cubes of ice kissed his lips only briefly as the drink passed down his parched throat. The first bite took him back to the days of cheap takeout and university assignments—the flavor was reminiscent of a time he had all but forgotten.

Barekhna's eyes with their deep shade of pecan streaked with the light caramel danced an elaborate performance. A varying transmittance of light passed through, glossing over the top of her orbs with full power. It's intensity was strong enough to give birth to anarchy.
To have kings succumb to their knees. To have queens riot.
She bit into the rib, tucking the bottom of her lips underneath the lap of her tongue, licking the smears left around her painted mouth. Arming her mind from the vibrations it felt from the sight of his face shrouded in shadows, she chewed artfully. Handing over her smile to him, she frowned at the piece of ribs that lay discarded.

Radiating an aura of stringent bonhomie, she pestered his plate with the end of her sharp knife. It had caught her eye at a store a few weeks ago, the rose shaped handle with the knife's blade for the stem. Barekhna had felt it was her. A guarded rose. Befitting.
Now, she shoved the tip of it into the piece of juicy meat, slicing it off of the bone with one sharp stroke, she rose it to Aliyaar's lips. Her brows mustered up the lost courage, pointing in arrogance to deny her. She pursed her lips the longer he took to open his pretty mouth. As a last resort — a final attempt, she pinched the back of his hand. The gentle skin filled the space lavishly, and Aliyaar's mouth dropped open. Ribs pushed in, Barekhna tipped her fingers underneath his jaw — forcing it close.

"I don't," he spoke between chews, the muscles of his cheeks slopping downwards in disappointment, "eat ribs."

"Oh I know! However," Barekhna tilted her head, the grin on her lips lighting up her eyes, "I also know you'd do anything for me."

Using an unmatched strength he shook his head, frowning as the rest of the bite moved into his oesophagus. Fisting the starchy napkin inside his palms, he wiped his own lips, leaning over the burning fire he tucked a clean corner between his thumb and forefinger. Placing it against the skin of her lips, he wiped her chin, silently moving back to his place. Aliyaar grinned at her stunned face, his fingers with genteel motions plucked the buttons open, one at a time, until what of his skin was covered piqued interest.

Dousing the flames of an unburnt lattice that tortured them both, like a twin flame, he tousled his hair, using his fingers to curl away the strands that proved to be daring enough, he stared. The centre of his orbs widened until the hickory was threatened to be taken over entirely by the darkness. Swirls of obsidian ghosted over the glass of his prescription glasses, the fog from the icy glass covered his vision as he drank. Moving the muscles of his throat, the slenderness of his jaw, taut, bit her breaths. Aliyaar's eyes twinkled as her bosom rose at a sharp pace, her skin was branded.

Deep shadows of grave intensity turned her skin sultrier than it was meant to be. It's pinching softness — the cherry shade on the apples of her cheeks matched the red of her dress and the maroon of her lips. His body tensed with the urge to kiss the skin that haunted him. To touch and feel that which was at last his in full capacity. She had bared her heart to him, spoken the vulnerability of her emotions with such allured capabilities that he was left speechless. Aliyaar was tipsy off of the love that was his at last. Barekhna was entirely, emotionally and physically at par with him. Twisting his mouth, keeping it from her sight he waited as she rounded the small table, her front pressed against the wood.

Aliyaar wiped his hands with the cloth napkin, the wet pipes in their foil packets coming in handy as they cleaned their fingers in absolute silence. His breath coiled over her throat, the mints offered, dissolved on to their tongues and left behind a bitter yet sugary taste. Ironic. The marriage of the two was an unspoken union — like them though, they seemed to better once in the arms of one another. Notions of second guessing pushed through the top of his mind as his fingers drowsily touched the silken curls of her hair, feeling each of them in between his senses. Moving the hair aside, her fragrance alighted. A sweetness mixed with the sharpness, diluted the smells of lust that swiveled between them.

"Aliyaar?" She swallowed, her lips a hair's breadth away from his throat.

"Hmm?"

Unfurling with a want that was as tumultuous as the Indus in the Monsoon weather, her poised front collapsed against the side of his well toned arms, the muscles their cramping — deprived of oxygen and thoughts as her hand wrapped around his chin. Using the pads of her thumb she softly massaged the skin of his lips, triggering a passion, a desire so unwarranted that it scared him. More than anything. His eyes — inky like the skies outside, possessed with the stars that formed constellations of revered thoughts. Mingled with the unholiness of the hour. Midnight called forth sin. Tonight he felt in his bones, as their density shook his muscles, sin was calling his name. As a man, he only held so much patience, and the brush of his wife's soft breast against his arm, the flutter of her breath against his throat was all he needed for it to snap.

Aliyaar remained still in place, his eyes froze over the side of her slender nose. Calculating the pores on the side, in the shadows he could make out the silhouette of a tiny mole. With gentle strokes he brushed aside her hair, feeling the back of his fingers rest against the side of her forehead. It burned — not with a fever but a callous redness. His eyes trained over and met hers, the uncertainty in both of theirs bloomed into a torturing resolve. She leaned into his fingers, her hands slid up his forearms, setting the warning signals inside his head off. Aliyaar's hand with an awkward gait wrapped around her waist, her body resting over his now straightened out legs. Barekhna smiled timidly, placing either of her legs around him, her hands wounding around his throat.

Blooming like a rose, her eyes dropped to his lips. In them was a gentle throb she felt with her fingers, the carnal painted nails were the extension of her slithering desires that roamed free. Pushing her derrière down on to him harder, Barekhna bit the corner of her lips, her tongue slid over the young wound. Resting her forehead against his, their noses brushing, she stared into his open orbs. Her reflection in them was clear. It scared her. Their hearts next to each other, beating at the same paces blew their breaths out, fatigue lingered in their muscles as she drawled out her statement. Whispering in a breathy allure, making sure to drag her lips along his cheeks.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Her statement hung in the air, like the cursive of her voice, he stared in shyness. His pale cheeks coated in a dusting of red — one could mistake that the blush on her cheeks had rubbed off on him. In a split second, not giving him enough time to mull over her words she did as she had said. Gently, with the softness not characteristic to her, her lips punched his. Silence flooded the room doused in the aftermath of their romance. Her mouth covered his entirely, following a passionate vigor, she devoted her soul to the moment.

Barekhna's fingers moved into the silken mass of hair that fell over his forehead. Her lips sucked over his bottom lip, moving in artful strokes, her tongue danced across the seam of his lips, prying them open. Dancing along the back of his neck, she moved her hands over and below his shoulders, feeling the ridges there that had tormented her one too many times. Wrapped in the arms of each other with not a microscopic space in between, she undid his buttons, breathing heavily into his mouth, she felt the warm skin flutter under her fingers. Night spilled behind their backs and covered them in it's music of solitude as they touched and teased. Her mouth left his, swollen and heaving, she kissed down his throat, feeling the guttural moans die against her lips.

Tracing a mark over the junction of his collarbone, her fingers hooked the collar and pushed it aside, her lipstick marked the pristine fabric. Pulsating soft open mouthed kisses, she licked the skin she had marked, humming at the sight of it. The ache in her hips coursed and met the centre of her cunt. Leaching on to him, his hands pushed underneath her ass, she rubbed her front against his. It challenged her body — the touch from his side as his hands continued to rub soft circles into her bare thighs, the dress riding up a few inches in between. Barekhna could feel his nails dig into her skin as she ground her pelvic floor against his hardened dick. Her lungs burnt with unwarranted pressure, spilling out of her nostrils was air warmer than hellfire, causing a force to build in the skin of the man under her.

With his back pressed against the table, he could feel it dig into the skin underneath his shoulder blades. The weight of her body pressed against him. Aliyaar's mind buzzed with thoughts that though remained in check still, allowed for rationality to fly out of the window. His hands explored her skin on their own, feeling the supple flesh, burn both him and his nerves the longer they remained in contact. The ends of her heels dug into the sides of his thigh, a bittersweet pain kicked in, and he felt lightheaded as her lips landed on his again. Winding his fingers through her blown out hair, he pressed his mouth against her, reaching to meet her strokes against their clothed fronts. The two burned with unchecked desires.

Tautly gripping her hair he angled her mouth, his tongue battling hers to win. It was a game of desires — one that was known to ravage and leave the other out for the wolves to devour. Barekhna's moans were like gentle flutters and his mouth slowed down as his hands slid down her back, taking the tiny zip in his grip he slid lower, strings only held apart. Groaning against the skin of his face she tore if off of her, left bare — the wind knocked out of his lungs as his eyes ran over the slender build of her shoulders to the more than generous softness of her curves. Squeezing the sides of her hips, he ran a palm above her lightly toned stomach, feeling the skin above her diaphragm constrict. Aliyaar inhaled sharply, as her talons ripped his shirt off, unbuckling the clasp of his trousers.

Barekhna rubbed against his toned thighs in frustration before rising her hips in the air to tear his trousers and boxers off. Now in a pile beside them, light falling on to their naked bodies from the stadium lights installed in to the grounds, they looked ethereal to each other. Their skins carried glows — a flush that spilled like potent ink over them, swirling in between the dark amounts of lust was the inkling of love. It was a bud protected within their walls, treated with care as they touched each other with new found respect.

Sodden, her cunt slid over his lower abdomen, her back arched into the air as she pressed his warm mouth against her full breast. The tip of her swollen nipple brushed against his tongue — a tremor shook her thighs and knotted her stomach tighter. Barekhna's limp fingers gripped his head harsher as he kissed the warm skin of her under boob, lapping at the skin around it, his fingers prodding the other one. The feel of him against her — bare and without the walls holding back her complacent affections made her ten times more sensitive to his wandering touches. She slid her palms between them, feeling his hardened dick through muscle memory.

Tracing the vein, rubbing her thumb over swollen head, she smirked hazily as he tensed. Squeezing it, deliriously, Barekhna placed a chaste kiss over his lips, staring into his equally reddened eyes with a passion.

"I'm going to take you today." Her voice oozed confidence.

Around them the air warmed up, the sleazy stares turned the temperature, burning them both even in their states. The flush on either of their skins was undeniable. Perfumed scents of their intermingled breaths and colognes wrapped around the candles that burnt around them, the after glow of orange on their skins made it a scene straight out a painting. Their hair a mess — lips swollen and eyes beyond sullied from their endeavors, she rose her hips into the air, his fingers taking a chance to feel the slick core. Barekhna's hot gaze focused on to his sweat covered his face — the paces of his breath matched the deep rise and fall of his chest, his fingers shakily grazing the entrance of her slick core.

Wrapping her hands around his wide wrist in a gentle hold, like water, she fluidly moved his hand to her face, sucking what his digits had caught. The burn of her obsidian eyes, carving out his soul. Her tongue slid over his fingers softly, lapping up each inch of her juices as it did so, before her mouth covered them whole and sucked with a tenacious royalty.

"Would you like a taste?" She enquired, innocently.

Gaping — stunned beyond recovery, Aliyaar's heart beat quickened as she offered him a long lasting kiss, his tongue tasting the flavors. He had never felt more turned on, shaking almost in his skin as she pumped his dick a few times before sinking on to it, her mouth finally letting go off of his.

Lowering her hips gently, her swollen cunt took in his head with ease, the sides of her walls expanded as she moved lower. Her hips bucked, raising into the air once more, teasing both of them as she did so. Dipping once more, she kissed his sweaty throat before sinking on to him again. Her face contorted, the muscles above her eyebrows twisted in rapture as she felt his dick spread her muscles apart. A pain seared through her lower back, a sizzling electric current pinched her as she rested her forehead against his. With the strength of her entire body, Barekhna rotated her hips, alternating in between with rising into the air and sinking.

Warmth covered her searing back as he flattened his palm over her skin. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her in place, reaching to meet her strokes, hitting a spot that ruptured moans out of her mouth. Her face crushed, covered in sweat as she slid her palms over his chest, pinching his nipple, she sucked the sweaty skin, rotating her dense hips. His flushed face lowered, the centre of his lips parted as he licked the skin between the valley of her breasts. The heels dug into the sides of his thigh as he continued to move slower and deeper, her hands dug into his back — seeking anchor.

"Don't—" she whimpered, her lips brushed the shell of his ears, "stop!"

"You're magnificent Barekhna!" He gasped, panting as his hands sought out to touch her skin anywhere, everywhere.

"You're going to be the death of me," Barekhna whispered, clenching her cunt around his dick, "saint you better build your siren a shrine!"

"You think I won't die before you?" His eyes held a wild fire in them.

"Nope!"

"Your kisses lull me into a sweet death siren," he replied.

Aliyaar's lips — cracked from the lack of water, pressed on to her cheeks with the gentleness of a flower's petal. The strain on his eyes was nowhere near the emotions that burst through his chest as she rode their high out. Slumping against his chest, with harsh breaths warming up the side of his face — he felt complete. Wrapping his arms around he nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in the lingering cologne as the rest of the room smelt of musk and sex. His fingers ran down her back, the stings on his own were a sweet reminder of what had gone on. Massaging her scalp gently in circular strokes, a hand running down her soft back, he kissed her sweaty shoulders. Once, then twice. Feeling like the king of the world.

➖➖➖➖➖

Sunlight spilled in from the larger than life glass wall next to the tiny bed placed inside the hut. Through the illustrious branches, the sun's rays peaked with full force and heated the floors and their skins. A gust of air blew and struck against the low hanging leaves, singing a tune of unity with the bluebirds, who in their fistful sizes flew around, guzzling the sweet nectar. The inside of the hut — smoky still, smelt of lavender, the incense burned with power and overnight had cleared the aroma of lust. A ruffled mess of clothing lay at the edge of the coffee table, dishes discarded, all but forgotten lay with carelessness. Wet towels and an unwrapped hair dryer sitting on the ottoman.

The floorings covered in carpeting, were soiled from their shoes. The blankets spilled over the mattress and their entwined figures, wrapped in the arms of one another were just about exposed. With her soft face pressed into his chest, Barekhna's frame was crushed under his arms, their legs entangled underneath the duvet. Spilling over the back of her pillow, a few strands fell on to the apex of his chest that still carried the marks she had left on them the night before, her lips swollen with the marks of his teeth left behind from the kisses they had shared well into the night.

Aliyaar's hair crept down his neck, the ends of them laden with an inconspicuous amount of water as he refused to dry them the night prior. Like a child refusing to part with it's toys, he tightened his hold around her ribs every now and then. The light that spilled over his face was a gentle annoyance, the comfortable breaths that danced along his chest, not so much. Covered from the waist below, he felt the chill mumble curses against his epidermis, stumbling as it met Barekhna's face. A palm above her eyes shielding her from the angered rays that tore through the curtain of his own dreams.

Gently his eyes peeled open, sleep crackled like wood beneath his orbs. The grin on his face threatened to take over the little that remained of his sanity. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, his eyes ran through the messy hut only to realize that last night had in fact not been a dream. It was his reality. His wife loved him. Barekhna loved him! The realization was as important as the statement. His heart throbbed against his ribs at a pace his blood found hard to keep up with. The wind squeezed out of his airways, his eyes transcended into a sheen of tears, one managing to escape the hold unknowingly, as he remembered of the softness of her words. The aftermath — shocking.

Diamonds pricked his hazy gaze, the pads of his thumbs rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he searched for his glasses, his movements gentle. The weight crushed his body down, his arm flailed in the air, feeling around the empty space beside him for his spectacles. Licking his lips, he tucked an arm underneath her head, placing it gently over the pillow before turning. Though the moments of his freedom were short lived as she latched on to him instantly. An arm around his waist, her face nuzzled into his back — forcing him into place again. Aliyaar blew out air from in between his teeth. The crinkle of joy inside his eyes, the sprinkled softness on his face — the sharpness of his jaw suddenly softened out from budding joys, he found his glasses. His palms held them.

"Why're you so re'less?"

Barekhna's accent was thicker than ever as she spoke into the muscles of his back. Her hands rubbed the skin they could find — sending the nerves inside his biceps into a frenzy. Rising, her weight almost entirely on the edges of her elbows, she flattened her palm against his chest, pushing his back on to the mattress. A barely there smile pinched her cheeks and widened the ravaged lips. Pressing her cheek into his pec she sighed with delight, her eyes closing for a moment again as Aliyaar tucked his glasses over his nose and behind the shell of his ears.

"Aliyaar?" She whispered, opening an eye as she stared at him.

"What?" He questioned, his voice husky as his vocal chords remained tense from last night.

"How did you fall in love with me?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!" She spoke.

Aliyaar hummed, pressing a kiss into her hair he closed his eyes. Reminiscing the days that had passed. His heartbeat raised by a few notches, the ends of his feet and fingers suddenly felt chilly. That day had in his memory been marked with gold.

"It all started five years ago."

➖➖➖➖➖
Five Years Ago

Dressed in a polo and his khaki trousers he stood with his back pressed to the exposed brick building. His arms crossed over his chest, his eyes ran over the digital wristwatch he wore — a cherished gift from his parents. The loafers on his feet tapped the ground in anticipation, the tip of his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he awaited the arrival of his best friend — Zayed Hussam. From behind his glasses, his lashes brushed the lenses in anger, the muscles of his jaw cramped from the hard clenching. The sun's cruel rays melted against his face — turning it a shade too red. He groaned as his phone pinged again. That doll face was still stuck in traffic.

Aliyaar gripped his book bag, throwing it over his shoulder he walked down the steps of the library. The book he had issued tucked beneath his armpits. He had planned to show it to his best friend — an equally large physics fan the book on constellations. Although they were not something he enjoyed in particular, Aliyaar had spent one too many nights counting the stars on the rooftop of his house. Breathing in deeply, with his face focused on the tiled floors he chewed his gum, biting into his cheek one too many times as he nervously walked towards the entrance gates of the university.

Then the wind was knocked out of his lungs as he heard a breathy voice giggle. It sounded like a bluebell's song. The tunes of a nightingale, words of a poetess as he neared the sound. Even the sun's rays cast a halo around her dark hair, as she slammed her hand against the arms of her friend he assumed. Dressed in black, her lips painted red she was a vision but her laughter — the sounds of it stole from him his entire existence. His entire being.

➖➖➖➖➖

"— and five years later I'm still as in love as I was in that moment."

"Wow!" She gulped, intimidated by his feelings.

"How did you not shoot your shot Aliyaar?"

"I was afraid of rejection, of being mocked."

"I sense you've got more to add."

"I feared you would never want a man like me."

"You're right," she tutted, raising to stare into his eyes, she pressed her elbows into his chest and leaned her body against his thighs, "why would I want an emotionally intelligent man? I'm more into toxic men."

"Aliyaar it is an honor to be your wife, to be loved by you! These are far more than having an accomplished self made husband. I don't need titles. I want a human. You're perfect for me! I promise!"

"I love you Barekhna," he smiled, kissing her chin.

"I love you Aliyaar." She replied, kissing him on his forehead, "but your rapid heartbeat is scary."

———-
Ramadan mubarak guys!
May the month be a gateway to blessings that last forever. Ameen.

That being said, let the story begin.
I love this chapter so much! I hope you guys love it like I do.