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Global 7000 fills the air with wheeze while landing its splendid body on runway of Islamabad International Airport.

Excited, Khushi lurches out of her seat. It was quite an idea to grab bites half an hour before landing. She was famished after an intimate session followed by a deep slumber. Unknown to the reason, she dozed all the way from London to Islamabad and he being a love-sick did nothing but admired her without blinking.

Standing in her ankle-length printed lawn jumper, Khushi breathes in the air of her country deeply. She blinks repetitively, reveling in the fondling air. The belongingness hugs her each cell, and she feels cuddled. Well, she has been cuddled against his chest in their private plane. Such a husband he is! Every time she turned and tossed, he followed, keeping her closer. He kept caressing her skin, inhaling her scent and admiring her innocence.

"Come on, girl. You should be jumping." He mocks her stretched yawn. She had washed her face after waking up. "Wait, you sleep more when tensed, is it like this?" He states his guess while settling her a day-old curl. He has booked a detailed health check appointment for her. She has petrified him of her slumber habits.

Embarrassed, she bites her tongue and gently nods.

"They'll welcome you with both arms. I guarantee." He encourages while striding towards their arrived vehicle. Once the chauffeur loads their single travel bag, they begin the journey.

Khushi views out of the window to distract her mind with greenery and mountains but in vain. She glimpses at him, finding him surveilling a presentation on mobile. He seems quite absorbed in work. Fairly, this is the compensation of the hours he spent while admiring his wife.

Since their first meet, she has been perceiving him brainy. The success and confidence ooze out of him.

Despite having a strong belief on his positive stand at her request, she tremulously seeks a reconfirmation with fumbled fingers. "I hope you will follow my suggestion of staying quiet."

"Uh?" He gets nervous at her weird behavior. He agreed to her request in jet but why again? Moreover, he was anticipating her 'favor appeal' but she asked the opposite. Does she not look up to his support? Companions back up you through thick and thin!

"They're my family. I am sure they aren't fed the reality. My phupho, ex mother in law, must have told them bunch of lies to maintain her fake domination and solemnity."

"I understand. We're going to sort the issues and tell 'em the facts." He sees no problem in sit and talk.

"No, I mean..." She is hesitant to beware him of few slaps but he might end up perceiving hitting a good solution. Contrary, she also frets his disrespect. "Listen to me patiently, Arnav. I adore your possessiveness, but my parents also hold rights on me. If they talk churlish, I will clarify things to them, not you." She lowly clears herself, perturbing him more about her dealing tactics.

"I'll stay mum providing my patience level." He illuminates his limit. He would never allow anyone to misbehave with his woman.

With a sly smile, she converts back to normal and keeps guiding driver about the route, jittering out of anxiety.

"You remember routes well." He remarks as they finally stop outside her home in a clean, wider street. He notions the driver to stay inside with their minor luggage.

Eager to get done with confrontations, she climbs down the car herself.

"Seriously?" He mutters to himself in disbelief. His girlfriends had been jumping their bones to get the doors opened by him and his wife... Nonetheless, her elated smile means everything.

Khushi rolls fist to knock but finds the gate unlocked. So, it is one of the normal days at home.

He directs her to step in first. She freezes at the sight of her small, green, lush rows of plants, the sadden flowers of winters, freshly washed courtyard and dampness near water motor. The bunch of memories flood in and she hiccups, wiping the moistness. Though the home is built on moderate space of 200 sq. yards, it has been her protection and tranquility.

She chuckles at the sight of unattended tray of half cut Spinach. Under the mildly shining sun, she can easily estimate her mother's fatigue owing to a visit to Sunday market.

Hearing the movement, her youngest sister, Ambreen, inquires loudly, "Who is at the door?" Her eyes do not waver from television screen. Due to Azaan, she had muted the T.V and now has to wait till father leaves to masjid for congregational prayer. She and her craze for daily soaps always earn her rebukes.

Khushi opens her mouth to say it's me, Khushi but her vocal cords ditch. He hides his amusement, feeling proud of her. Despite being oppressed, she is scared at the reaction of her beloved family. How sweet!

"Ammi, I think someone apart from neighborhood has come." The twelve years Ambreen hurriedly spreads dupatta on shoulders and sprints out of room, rubbing cold nose. She stills at the sight of her beloved elder sister. The blood escalates, forcing hearts to meet. She cannot believe her Aapi is here, in front of her longing eyes. She had cried buckets at Khushi Aapi's Rukhsati and terribly misses her when hungry.

"Khushi Aapi." Ambreen splits into joy and dashes into the arms of her elder sister. "I missed you Aapi." She squeals in elation. Khushi hushes her, caressing her back till the little soul relaxes in her embrace.

Muddled, Ambreen gazes at her sister. Her parents had told her Khushi Aapi will never be visiting them. "But Aapi, how..." She quietens as they hear their father coming to courtyard requesting aloud to the women of house to pray.

Spotting his run-away elder daughter, Waleed Ahmed loses grip on towel and it slips from his wet hands.

"Baba..." Khushi forwards to pick the towel but Waleed raises palm in warning. The coldness of his eyes alarm Khushi.

"Uhm, I'm Arnav Rahim Bakhsh." Shielding his wife, Arnav introduces himself. Khushi has told him about the education of her parents. By the positive enforcement of her grandfather, her father graduated in good grades and her mother could complete only matriculation due to the evil games of step-mother.

The furious Waleed Ahmed rejects offered handshake, affronting the British man. It confounds Khushi and she begins to sweat. She hopes her husband's patience does not waver soon.

"So, this is the man you sold our dignity to?" Emerging out of the kitchen, her mother throws the first weapon of evening on her.

She sold the respect?

Was not she sold?

"Baba, I..." Khushi stutters at the distrust of family. Don't they know her?

Waleed Ahmed loosens his hand to slap her cheek but reluctantly curl fingers. His heart impedes to hurt the one it loves the most in this world.

Arnav seizes Khushi's hand, urging her to chant the truth. "Baba, your princess didn't devalue your upbringing. Yasir and Phupho chanted lies to us. Neither they own any petrol station nor have lavish residence in London. Infact, they hardly manage meals. They proposed marriage just for dowry and money." She elucidates swiftly, dribbling tears from swelled eyes. She is excruciated to see disbelief in four beloved pairs of eyes. "They cashed your trust... and me. I patiently bore every behavior but my world shattered when..." She looks up to Arnav seeking silent permission to take her ex-husband's name. "... Yasir sold me to pay off his debts." She breathes in a large gulp of air. Though the buyer turned to be her admirer, but being sold is horrendous. "And phupho encouraged him." She ends one part of story, anticipating sympathy.

"Shut up!" The restricted hand finally smashes her delicate cheek.

"Hell!" Arnav immediately pulls Khushi against his chest and begins caressing her reddened cheek.

She streams into tears as her family seems to not believe her truth.

Wish she were not tied to Yasir!

Wish she were never forced to job waitress!

Wish she were never sold to Arnav!

Wish she never married Arnav Rahim Bakhsh.

"Leave me." She yanks her hand, bewildering him.

Is she regretting Nikah with him? Is she devaluing their companionship?

"I told you to not interfere. They are my parents. They deserve to leash out their anger at me." She yells, lamenting.

"They're your parents but now I hold superior rights on you." He retorts, boring eyes into hers. He cannot afford her tears. She must always cherish him.

Irritated of the two humans and their voices, Yasmeen sends her other daughters inside in disgust. "Baji was utterly right. She had already informed us of your bogue narrative." If the words were less, she pushes her more into the British man. "Ungrateful girl, you should be thankful they didn't murder you for warming other men's beds."

The liars lied and her family believed? Has their trust on her weakened to this point?

"ENOUGH!" Arnav roars, holding his wife protectively. "I stammer in Urdu but I completely understand it." He was bound to her request but her character is his dignity and no one dares to mess with it.

He bores eyes into Khushi's. "You requested me to not interfere but IT IS THE MATTER OF YOUR CHARACTER NOW!"

She hiccups seeing everything abolishing. The beloved father slapped her. She triggered her newly wedded husband to vacuously yell at her. Her family disgusts her. Her mother is throwing daggers at her. Her whole existence is cursed.

Seeing the fear and stress crystal in her eyes, he gently caresses her redder cheek before starting his inquiry coupled with the complete truth.

"Why the hell did you just slap her?" He aggressively thunders at Waleed Ahmed for hurting his possession.

For a moment, Waleed dreaded this raging man to the point of death. His eyes are as fanatic as once his was for the boy who had whistled at Khushi. As always, being a father, Waleed was walking a few steps behind her daughter in care and a random guy, considering the girl alone, whistled at Khushi in flirt. He had broken the nose of that boy in agitation.

"Is she your blood daughter? What she told you is the absolute truth." He mocks their incapability to differentiate between right and wrong.

"I am the one who bought her for a few weeks in, I guess, Pakistani two crores." He solemnly points to himself, terrorizing them. "Mr. and... Mrs. Ahmed, you must have idea how buyers treat such women." His poisonous tone shallows Khushi's heart more than her parents. If Allah had not softened his heart, then surely, she must have been tagged slut. "The night that lowbred wimp dragged your daughter to my home..." He pauses seeing displeasure on Waleed Ahmed's face. "Khushi fought with me, begged me to spare her. She detested to do a sin and I settled for her wish. Salute to my fortune, your ex son in law's greed hadn't sighed off; he easily agreed to divorce her for more twenty crores.

He caps the complete truth apathetically, irking Khushi.

Do her emotions mean zilch to him? How can he precise about buy-sell?

"Baba, you have demeaned my trust. Before coming here, I had a trifling hope that my heroic father must have fought for me, sworn on my virtue. But..." She trails, composing her wits. The whole trauma has lowered her blood pressure. He had fed her properly for the very purpose. Alas! Nothing can fill for mental peace. "... The swiftness of world has turned blood white."

She fists her palms, to stay strong and not fall unconscious when she is supposed to fight for her dignity.

"Your dear sister and her son not only forced your daughter into waitress but perished all the parameters by trading her for money." She bawls thickly, addressing her both parents. "Instead of swearing on my piety, you people convicted me of their sins." She quivers at her spot and leans more into Arnav for warmth and support. This is worst she had expected. His father was supposed to turn maniac in support of her. How could shrilling taunts of world weigh over the fatherly love? Has he been claiming wrong of Khushi being his whole world?

"Come here." Waleed Ahmed touches Khushi's shoulder with shaking hands. She turns back to adore her father. He frequently shakes head, guiding her against his chest. "Hush, my love." She clutches him by arms and cries to lighten her heart.

As the father daughter patch up, Arnav pats his heart to not miss his own father much. Relations are enchanted bonds which budge you about their existence from time and again.

"Baji abused me beyond repair." Waleed Ahmed gravels, cursing his hand to hurt his beloved.

"We are sorry, beta." Yasmeen Ahmed sobs, hugging her daughter. I was scared of the world." She plants repeated kisses on Khushi's forehead and cheeks.

For next some minutes, Arnav waits like stranger until his mother in law notices him. "We can never thank you enough."

"Don't embarrass me." He politely handles the matter.

"But we are afraid the truth will bring us more humiliation, especially to Khushi." Yasmeen shares her opinion. They had not disclosed the matter to anyone. Which sane man will himself gift taunting opportunities to people? But if they accept Khushi and her new relation, everyone will get to know the depth of matter. What will happen to the proposals of Saira and Ambreen? Who will marry them?

"Khushi, if you want our love, you will need to stay here." Yasmeen utters the unexpected foul, halting Khushi's rational mind. Her mother has given her a choice between family's love and husband's companionship. Will she be able to live without him? They have spent splendid two days of their married life. But her origin is here.

"What your mother saying is utterly absurd." Arnav addresses Khushi to know her response. Living through the dark lone days, he finally found a mate to pair up with. He damn waited for her for months before wedding and bedding her. He laid down his ego to earn... nothing? How short-lived his happiness were! Tsk, tsk.

Ha! Should not have boosted your luck earlier.

Khushi pays no heed to the hitched breaths of Arnav and hugs her father. She is not intentionally deceiving him but she still loves her father more than the husband of two days.

He runs hand through his thick locks to stay sane. This woman will surely drive him lunatic.

He yearns to cry I don't want to be your choice, bye but guess he is lot more mature. He needs to inject logics to her strained mind.

Khushi heaves against her father.

Arnav gave her respect.

He agreed for Nikah.

He waited.

He loves.

Infact, dedicated to her.

His drug kisses...

His hold.

His embrace.

His long sighs.

His shining eyes at her sight.

While standing against her father's chest, Khushi extends her right hand to hold Arnav's hand. She cannot imagine a life without him now. His smiles, his naughtiness, his concerns; they are her lifelines. She peeks at his face and he is resonating shock.

"It's enough, Yasmeen." Waleed forbids his wife to impede chaos. After meeting a man who can lay his life but will protect his daughter, he would never make idiocies.

"We will make some story. Don't worry." Waleed encourages Khushi to go back to her husband. This might allow smooth breaths to the pale lad. He seems almost dead.

Khushi, with swelled guilty eyes, steals another fragile glimpse of Arnav. She should not have left his savior alone when he required her support. He espoused her when she was sold. He loved her when blood turned white. He championed her when her parents questioned her virtue. What a repay of niceties!

"I am sorry." She comes to stand in front of him. "Believe me, I am nothing without you. Nothing."

"But you chose your father." He mocks her apology. He has seen her true decision. Everyone can live without him.

"Sorry, beta." Yasmeen caresses his hair, seeking forgiveness. "I acted selfish."

Not only selfish, but vile. This lady just attempted to separate his wife from him. Nonetheless, he holds no emotional sentiments for anyone. His real culprit is Khushi.

Seeing his hard expressions, Khushi holds her ears, "Please, Arnav. I am sorry. If not me, then trust your love. It has strongly bounded me to you."

Waleed notions Yasmeen to let kids solve their issue and leads her to the back of house, providing privacy to spouses.

Khushi holds Arnav's hand, resting it against her heart. "Feel the low beats. They might stop if you..." She muffles as his palm covers her mouth. His heart may bleed whole life but it cannot bear her death.

"You said my love has bound you to me. Don't you love me?" He seeks peace in hoarse voice. Everyone always companied him for money. She turned out same case; she companied him to return to her family.

"I don't know love except you." She admires him, his existence – the whole him. Honestly, she does not know if her feelings can be tagged love, but whatever they are, they are all for him. "I am yours. And don't you dare ditch me to go to those model bitches." He is the CEO of a cosmetics brand, he for sure stays linked with models.

She steps closer to him. "I am utterly sorry, beloved husband. If you don't trust me, try me." With a hefty heart, she proposes her own punishment.

"You promised me on our wedding night to never leave me." He is an experienced man. He seeks surety before making final decision. He will always vigorously cherish her but not chain her to him.

"I didn't – wholly. I offered you my hand to tell them I love you equally and despite try, I cannot leave you." She reasons her actions. Though she had forwarded her hand but she first hugged her father.

Despondent, she hugs him bone-tight. "First my family and now you want me to stay devastated. Forever." She sobs against his chest, firming arms around his torso. "I want to go back to our home." She proposes breathily. She needs to rest in his arms, to evade off the burden of apprehensions and guilts. Only the Bakhsh Mansion can provide her that.

"You really cannot breathe without me?" He asks to solace the stupid heart.

"Does I mirror separation patience?" She retorts, breaking the hug.

The tranquil-bathed face welcomes her and she plants a soft kiss on his cheek. He slightly blushes at her sweet apology and forgives her from the depth of heart. A heart which knows the art of love cannot stay livid for long.

Khushi calls her parents and they all move inside to sit and have chat.

"I again apologize, beta. Truth had scared me." Arnav was behaving aloof of Yasmeen and thus Waleed instructed his wife to apologize again.

"Truth brings prosperity. Moreover, you can shut mouths by attending our reception." Arnav invites them, shocking Khushi. Alas! Her family has no passports and visas.

He extracts the small business size card and they enlighten to see it's a wedding card. "Sir, it has your name and code etched into it. You can bring three guests with you." Arnav hands over the card to the head of the family.

Khushi peeps to see the design and their name printed together. He did not share the cards with her and he is distributing them. They have so much to deal with in seclusion.

"Arnav, their documents, passports, visa... We live in London, not Dubai." She shakes head at his non-sense suggestion.

"Sweetheart, your husband has high links." He flirts and Yasmeen reddens at the openness of her son in law whereas Waleed's heart swell in elation at their relationship.

"Thank you for the offer but..."

"You still consider your daughter sinner?" Arnav meddles in to earn affirmation. He is determined to take them to London and he will.

"I am a sinner. I can't ask for forgiveness either." Yasmeen lowers her eyes out of embarrassment. She has twice apologized and her son in law ignored it.

"Don't mention it." Arnav humbly nods at the woman, realizing he must not be hard on these people. They are the only family of his wife and their future children.

He then attends Waleed Ahmed until he agrees to travel with them along family.

"And girls, come here. Don't you want gifts?" Arnav cheekily attends Saira and Ambreen. "Your sister told me about Dodh Pilai ritual and that sister in laws receive generous gifts. Here are yours." Arnav hands two small velvet pouches to anticipating girls. Their toes bounce to relish costly chocolates but shock blues their faces at another small velvet box and papers inside pouch. Their British brother in law has gifted both of them a diamond ring and 1000 pounds sterling.

Khushi is amazed at his friendliness with her family. It is as if he knows them from ages. He calls the driver to bring his suit case while family crowds him in excitement of new family member.

"This is too much." Yasmeen resists the exorbitant gift. They don't have the bone to return glimmer mounts.

"We should gift as much Allah has blessed us." He not only handles the matter for present but also for future where they might try to offer him something affluent.

"And about the reception, my new family can buy dresses and other valuables either from here or from London. We have five hours to board the plane." Arnav announces in elation. "Please, no more formality. I have married late and I want to celebrate it." He adds, bursting everyone into chuckles.

***

The yellow and golden lights flicker in every nook of reception hall accommodating three thousand guests. Listing the nationality of invitees, one can call it all-world party with ease. It is a new exposure for Khushi and her family who had never confronted such a cluster of Britishers, Americans, Pakistanis, Italians, Spanish, French, Dutch, Thais, Chinese, Canadians, Nepalians, Filipinos, Swiss, Turkish, Russians and Hawaiians.

So damn many people!

The soft music along flickering lights is creating romantic aura, compelling couples to cuddle. Photographers are on their assigned duties to capture forever moments. People are communicating with each another, admiring the yet another splendid thematic party thrown by heartthrob Arnav Rahim Bakhsh.

"Exhilarating arrangements."

"I love his incredible themes."

"I come for delicious food. Such a hot host he is!"

"As ever, he is sizzling. I wish he had accepted my offer of legs."

"Lucky woman!"

"I am on monthly cycle but could not miss darling Arnav's party."

The praising remarks swell Arnav's confidence and he smiles yet for another pose with his wife. His hand caresses her back and she forbids him by eyes. He is extremely naughty today!

While posing, Khushi looks at her family. Their approval on her fate has filled her with contentment and confidence. In Pakistan, she has always registered haphazard weddings where couples are moved out of center. Lights get switched off due to late arrivals of groom party. Food gets wasted. But here everything represents sound management; They entered as star couple, signifying her a Queen linked to her King, the fire crackers were set off at each step, basking ambiance in forever glow.

Seeing thick number of guests, the event manager takes Arnav's permission to officially start the event. The LEDs are lightened up to ease the sight of host Arnav Rahim Bakhsh cordially thanking all the guests for their joining and gifts.

"Hi, lovely people!!! I am thrilled to see all of you here to share my joy. This is such a remarkable day for me. Inclusive of me, many of you would have never thought of my marriage but hey, BRILLIANT THINGS TAKE TIME!" Arnav yells, enthusiastically. Today, his merriment knows no bounds. He is flashing bright smiles, speaking louder and flirting with his wife some more. He rests a hand on the small of her back before continuing further. "The first time I looked at her, I was captivated. I thought she is an easy game but nah man, she came fiercer at me. Whoop! I was beguiled by her guts. They made me fell harder for this exquisite lady. Well, here we are. Married and Elated!" He comes to conclusion soon, keeping his gratitude brief and cordial.

At her turn, Khushi clears her throat before addressing the thousands of unknown people. She is sure the house if full of her ill-wishers, especially the jealous females. Her husband had to imply a great deal of times to avoid intimate hugs and cheek kisses.

"Assalam O Alaikum, everyone. I am Mrs. Khushi Arnav Rahim Bakhsh. The name itself gives me tingles, compelling me to admire him in proof. And trust me each time I glance at him, I find him already gazing at me." The crowd chuckles and awes. "I have found this city amiable and I hope the rest of my life will be pleasantly spent here." She utters in nervousness and instantly regrets. She is not at funeral or capping her descriptive essay. "Cheers to this gorgeous man who esteemed me with his name!" She links closer to him, finishing her briefer gratitude with a request to guests to enjoy the party.

"I hope I did not embarrass you." She bites her tongue, descending the stage with him. She is feeling timid with their linked arms in front of her family but she cannot risk his mood tonight.

Some minutes later, the waiters stroll the trolley of scrumptious five-storey cake, iced in golden text over black chocolate layer. It stuns Ambreen and Saira that no one hovered the cake, instead the closer people curved towards center and the distant people looked up to screens with no creases on forehead.

"Don't shiver." He notions her to hold knife with him but she fears to ruin the cake. The spotlight has further unnerved her. Life-time mocks may become her luck! If he had known her crowd-fear, they would have had practiced at home but now nothing can be done. With one hand, he holds knife along her and snakes the other against her back, warming her.

"Forget the people. Remember. Me. In. You." He husks in her ear and it causes more damage than fruit.

"Khushi Aapi, cut the cake." Saira cheers, to refill confidence in her sister.

Khushi blinks at Arnav and slices the grand cake, reaping echoing claps. "Stay Happy, Always." The live band starts cooing, invigorating souls.

He spoons a smile bite to feed her. Lost in his eyes, she opens small mouth and some of the cream smears on her bottom lip. For a moment, she fears he would get mad. She is continuously mortifying him. Better if she had asked him rehearsal before reception so she elite her behavior.

Arnav suppresses his chuckle, shaking head in disbelief. "You are looking cute." He compliments, crafting the atmosphere sprightlier. Only she can manage to wear cute look in such a seductive appearance.

The crowd, especially his childhood friends, chants him to lick the cake from his wife's lip. He surrenders, smirking in his usual style but today elation is etched into it. He kind of covers her whole frame and takes a only small sweet peck owing her discomfort.

Hooting touches the sky and she forgets her discomfort at his blush. Is he shying? Aw!

"Sorry." As still skeptical about gratitude, she feels to apologize for her consistent embarrassing acts. His generosity must not be cashed.

"It's quite okay. Just be you. Everything goes easy." He forgives for the love he does.

"But it was all your mistake." She accuses him, agaping his mouth.

"How?" He folds arms against his chest, highlighting the sleek golden outlines of his coat. She wishes to run tongue over his jaws. Dammit! 5 days and he has colored her in his style.

"That... remember... who reminds bedroom romance to an already apprehensive woman." She rolls eyes and he laughs out loud, earning attention. He blushes, nodding 'normal' at left and right.

"Khushi..." Yasmin along daughters come to stand by the couple. "May you both stay safe of evil eyes." She circles a note of five thousand over Arnav and Khushi's head to give out sadaqah.

"Ammi here it will be hard to find a poor." Khushi jokes, enjoying the love and attention.

"No worries, I will keep the money safe with me till we move back to our country." Yasmin replies, disturbing Arnav.

"Are you not comfortable here?" His guests are missing home. Surely, he must not have been a good host to them. The reception arrangements were hectic and he was drawn to his newly wedded wife.

"Chill, man! She meant we give Sadaqah to our widowed neighbor." Waleed Ahmed pats Arnav's shoulder. "You are a wonderful host, trust me." He compliments, looking around the hall. From wee to substantial, everything is well coherent and coordinated.

"Thank you and have you people tasted the cake?" He asks instantly noticing them empty handed. They must be eating cake by now. Before Arnav could look for waiter, he sees a trolley approaching them. The queried eyes upset the waiter and humbly states, "Sir, I was looking for them near stage. Accept apolo–"

"Quite okay!" Waleed Ahmed smiles at waiter.

"Please start." Arnav himself hands the plates to his father in law and mother in law.

"Come here, you married man!" One of his childhood pals approaches Arnav, squealing. Realizing the family thing, he formally apologizes first and then drags Arnav with him. The boys need to catch up much.

"I will be back soon. Have fun." Arnav humbly excuses to Ahmed's and then winks at his wife before leaving. Khushi giggles at his happy self; entirely opposite to their first meeting.

"Allah's plan is surely better than man's plan." Waleed affirms his admiration for Arnav. Though his decision to marry Khushi with Yasir turned out ridiculous but Allah had planned to reward his daughter after test.

"Yasmin, keep daughters with you. It's almost 7, I am going for Isha prayer."

"Baba, wait." Khushi dials one of her security guards and orders him to be with her father. After returning to Bakhsh Mansion with her family, Arnav had first introduced her to her two personal security guards. Typically, she denied at the spot to remain under the surveillance of two pairs of male eyes. They live alone and she hardly takes dupatta on head anymore. He was quite riled up with her denial but later understood her point. His husband self certainly agreed with her. She is his possession. The matter ended with a solution of a male and a female bodyguard. A female bodyguard can rather stay near.

The burst of cork opening deafened the surrounding and Khushi's heart shallows in utter disbelief and embarrassment. Was not everything going smooth?

Khushi drinks in her tears beholding him cheering with his friends. She should not have her hoped his obeyance on her demand of wine-free reception – till her family leaves for home. She had been living a fairytale since Nikah but now the proud is dimmed forever. Fortunately, her father is not here to behold it.

She glances again at her husband busy in filling the deftly arrayed glasses for his friends. One of them offers him the first glass but he shakes his head and instantly excuses them to accompany his wife.

She dribbles a tear at his dedication to promise. I give my word to not drink till your father is here. She perceived the promise wrongly. He is a billionaire having links all across the world and the huge gathering is the proof. The wine is considered a source of celebration in western culture and thus he has arranged an aloof corner for it. She sees no harm in it.

"Hey, thank you!" He grabs a refreshment platter from waiter and comes to stop by his wife. "Here." He picks the small Red Velvety Cake decorated as tuxedo and feeds her with a wink.

"Have I told you how ravishing you are looking? Black... and my bride." He whispers in her ear, lingering a kiss on her cheek.

She was quite shocked last night when he brought her reception dress – exquisite black velvet lehenga. She was dazzled by the sight of goldish-yellow kundan, beads and gold work. She could not help but caress the thematic peacocks glorifying the attire. Though enthralled by the sight, she resisted owing to color which irked him. Had I objected your choice of white at Nikah? He had paid hefty amount for her unique attire at reception and she was absorbed by her superstitious associations. She then had to kiss him deep, murmuring her affirmation about dress.

"Nineteen times." She reddens, realizing their intimacy is catching attention. Who can overlook the gorgeous bride dressed in splendid outfit, romancing with groom?

"Well, where is your family?" He asks looking around. "Family photographs are must." She thanks Creator millions of times at his friendly nature and walks along him across the hall where the cake is still being served.

"Baba is gone for Namaz. Ambreen and Saira were insisting to look around and have pictures in your gifted attires. They want to tell the world who is their bother on law." She informs, giggling.

"Cool, qawwali set up is already retouched. As soon as Uncle Waleed returns, we will start the session." He flabbergasts her. She and her father are big Qawaali lovers and so was the father of Arnav. Rahim Bakhsh always played them at home or in his office cabin and for sure on his electronic gadgets while driving. Due to this, his mother had also become fan of qawwalis composition.

"I hope it won't bore these weird people." She teases him and he sheepishly shakes head in no.

"We value dedication and music." He proudly pats his lapels, holding his head high. "Till your father returns, I think we should get done with our cozy dance, what say?" He voice-texts the event manager to run dance session and leans to peck his wife once more. Once assured of technological settings, he pulls Khushi on dance floor.

***

The minus degrees temperature and a newly wedded wife are not a good pair in any nook of world. The fog bellows the hormones to go ragingly rampant and seek heights of pleasure. The more damage is the hailing doing.

Arnav slips fingers in chubby ones, fondly intertwining their hands while moving inside her deliciously slow. A sheen of sweat has covered their bodies but they seem to forget everything apart from their intimacy.

She presses his hips, indicating her demand for faster thrusts but he has other plans.

He presses her left breast, fervently pinching the erect nipple. The carved teeth mark right across nipple electrifies a new flaming desire in him each time he sees it.

She moans, opening more for him. "Arhnav." Helpless against slowly building second orgasm of night, she guides his mouth to her pebbly itching nipple. A sinful mixture of moan and request leaves her throat. Since their 'wedding breakfast' which was actually a dinner, he has been seducing her tactfully; brush past her, caressing her bottoms, touching her bosom, giving her desperate looks and dirty whispers.

She has pressed legs each time and felt wanton to desire sex standing in public.

Not heeding her any request, Arnav comes out of her. His erection is glistening with her fluid and he has plans for pre-cum. With full consideration, he rubs the wet head all around her womanhood; going maniac over the folds, a little inside the whole and again over the folds.

He tends the other erect nipple. He laps tongue around it, elongating it for quite a times in loud, long sucks and then digs teeth, making her yelp in sweet agony.

"The louder you get, the harder I will be." He is quite proud to turn her pink all over.

Khushi claws his back as he forcibly enters in her in one swift motion. She reangles her legs around his torso for deeper strokes. He captures her lips for a brief yet feverish kiss. He is helpless against the urge of fanatically ramming her.

She yelps in his mouth at his overenthusiastic behavior. At this point, she herself is unable to define lines and thus keeps seeking pleasure.

Jinxed by passion, he comes out of her and pants, "not yet." He flips her on stomach, taking care of her limbs and muscles. For sure, he does not want to hurt her.

With in two seconds, he slips inside her primed womanhood from behind. A few slamming strokes and they came unearthing.

This was the roughest intimate session but she enjoyed it.

Her mother was so right to advise her about the corporal needs of husband.

***

Arnav jerks his head at the noise and groans in disturbance. They have spent such an exhaustive night; a peaceful slumber is their right. Feeling hollow against his chest, he instantly sits up. Without wearing sandals, he barefooted searches the whole upper floor. His chest burns assuming her sobbing in secluded corner. He should have practiced a slight control. But no, you were frantic. She is such a fragile woman.

Exasperated over his harshness, he was about to ring the guards when he noticed lights coming from the kitchen at ground floor. Soon, he hears tittering Khushi and he enlivens at the surety of her safety.

He descends stair in scurry and reaches kitchen at the swiftness of vampires. He needs to see her and talk about his corporal quota.

"Whoop, you scared me." Complained Khushi, jerking up with the spatula in her hand. Her mother is stirring the chicken in pan. Seems, the midnight cravings have caused them trouble.

How cute of her to learn cooking at this hour of night!

"And what about you leaving unannounced?" He draws her against him, caring least about the presence of another figure.

"I... I am... sorry." Khushi stammers while absorbing his possessiveness. "It's been just half an hour. I didn't want to disturb your sleep." She adds, moving backwards to flip the roti. They finished their most sizzling session of intimacy, showered and bedded but she could not help blush at the thought of his frantic thrusts. Half an hour later, her stomach growled and she decided to bless it first. Otherwise she would have ended up with low blood pressure next morning.

"Did not you like the meal at party?" He inquires Khushi feeling low about his reception party.

"Everything was beyond perfection. But we are Pakistanis. At the end of the day, we want the tortillas." Khushi happily explains him while cooking the sides of tortilla and it turns into a perfect circled whole-wheat bread, astonishing Arnav. Such a 360 degrees roti she has make. "Thanks to you arranging the spices." She flashes bright smile at him while flattening the next tortilla. If not the spices, how would have she quenched her taste buds?

"How much more time?" He sulks in need of tight sleep. Moreover, she needs to rest.

"30-40 minutes, I guess." She states the fact while tasting the spices in qorma on the request of her mother. "The chicken is perfectly tendered, and spices in appropriate amount. High spices won't go good late night." She passes on her suggestion and instantly realize her silliness. Her lie is out. Wow!

"During the second week of your iddah, you had yelled of your poor cooking skills." He lands on the kitchen chair while inquiring.

Yasmeen's brows curve in confusion, comprehending her son in law. "Khushi cooks amazing. Since she was 15, she was least interested in house chores and absolutely drawn towards cooking." She reveals the truth to Arnav in Urdu, knowing her son in law can purely understand it.

"What? Seriously? Liar!" He extends the teases and Khushi gets embarrassed.

"You had forcibly imprisoned me here and then expected me to cook for myself. That's was not a digestive demand, Mister." She clears her side, sliding him into the pit of laughter.

"You know auntie, I arranged a grandeur meal after our Nikah to provide her native taste. Such a wicked beauty she is!" He is quite proud of her self-respect tactics. She is right at her point. He had bought her and she was his responsibility.

"I absolutely love you." He gleams at her, surprising her. He has just discovered about her lie and he is confessing? Is he human?

True love is certainly beyond ego. We have to negate ourselves for a happy blessed life. Allah puts us into difficult situations where some even lose hope of living. Alike them, if Khushi had committed suicide and not practiced patience, would she be now enjoying fruits in the form of a loving husband.

Khushi blows Surah Fateha on him and forwards a small bite of tendered chicken.

"Spicy!" He squawks, blowing air with hand. He is still heavy-eyed and fed spices. He had been cherishing Pakistani meals with father but always avoided green chilies. And Khushi fed him a chopped chili along chicken.

Khushi leaves everything aside to rummage through array of decked items to locate honey. Caring least of spoon, she dips finger in jar and inserts in his mouth, guiding him to suck.

"More?" After three dips-and-sucks, she considers to ask him but he lowly demands more. She dips a finger in honey again and puts over his tongue, waiting till he sucks fully.

"More?" She asks with still upturned breathes.

"As much as you want." He winks, flashing a naughty smile and she giggles.

"Ammi, Arnav is awake. Call everyone to dining table to eat in comfort." Khushi requests her mother, with an intention to kiss her man hard. As soon as her mother moves out, she captures his mouth with domination and takes in large sucks. She seizes his white t-shirt by shoulder and digs teeth in bottom lip to repay his naughtiness.

"Whoa! I guess you're up for another round." He circles palm on her butts, sliding towards womanhood.

"Dirty thoughts!" She pulls his cheeks, before making more tortillas.

"Why, we had a deal?" He grimly points to their marriage where they informal signed a deal of marriage and family meet. Color drains from her face and she cannot believe her ears.

"... of Qubool hai." He adds with a stretched smirk and she pounces on him to punch hard on stomach.

She has been always a feeble girl but unfortunately her knuckle hits him hard and he yelps in pain.

"You have got quite a strengthen." He admires, rubbing his stomach while she picks a dough ball and starts to flatten with hands. Such an expert!

"Qubool Hai." She smiles under breathes, admiring his enchanting face. His mere existence is a blessing to him. That's what love does to a sane person, I guess...