𝕰verything went cold and still.

"Okay, that's enough," Zeenia's voice was colder than I would have thought she was capable of. I closed my eyes and contained my rage into a neat little box at the center of my chest."I can not believe that you would be petty enough to come up with this story and that too on my brother's reception!"

"I'm not lying-"

"As if leaving him wasn't enough," Seher said nothing, her face completely blank."As if tearing our family apart wasn't enough."

Zeenia tilted her head to the side a snarky inch.

Seher narrowed her eyes.

Zeenia pursed her lips.

"You have to let me-"

"No no, let me finish," Zeenia finished into the ringing silence."Let my brothers be in peace Seher. Both of them, the living and the dead. I don't want to hear another word out from you in the meanwhile. If I see you near my brother or his wife for the remainder of this function, I will personally make it my mission to see you hang from your tiptoes."

Seher flinched back violently, almost as if she was visualizing the image.

"I won't say anything," the sentence came out detached like her voice was no longer contained in her body. "For now."

Unease flooded through me, and Seher took a step back, a pleasant smile affixed on her lovely face like she needed to regroup and evaluate what angle this attack was coming from.

Hell hath no fury like a sister scorned, Zeenia turned to us, her eyes blazing with hatred.

"And you two, if I see you anywhere near her," venom coated each word."It won't be pretty."

Taimoor stared at his sister as if she'd lost her mind. I just stared at the crowd and adjusted my paloo, fiddling with the fabric.

"And Taimoor? Go meet your father-in-law before people decide that there's something amiss."

Oh no.

Now I was sure she'd gone mad.

"Uh-" Zeenia whirled to me and I clamped my mouth shut.

Taimoor took all of this in with a nod.

"Is that necessary?"

Zeenia folded her arms over her chest and regarded her brother with a level stare. "We're family now. There's no need to air our fights out in public."

He blinked slowly, considering it.

"I-"

"Go."

He turned to look at me, his eyes darkening. It was a tiny tell, he was used to hiding his real emotions in front of the crowd, but I saw it nonetheless. I took a deep breath, but my hands shook hard.

"That was interesting," I sipped my drink and shook my arms to remove the jitters.

"Don't worry about it, Seher has a flair for being dramatic."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

A slick, greasy-looking businessman who looked like he was in pain, came and congratulated us, his eyes zipping over us in frantic sweeps. I nearly melted into Taimoor, hating the frantic energy being expounded by that man. Taimoor's attention shifted to the person in question, and his expression went cold.

"Thank you," he said politely, but I imagined it was the same tone he'd use if he told someone to fuck off. "Excuse us."

He scuttered away and my mouth twisted into a slight smile. "Well, we can strike him off the list."

"Hmm-" he dismissed."Maybe we should go meet your parents now."

Although there were people talking and laughing around us, and music playing in the background, when his voice went low, it was all I heard. I nodded, but his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Whatever expression was on my face had him worried.

My family was bunched up on the right side, their eyes moving up and down the room, making sure to stick together. Baba was dressed handsomely in a black and white suit with an icy blue tie. My mother was the true star, adorning a moss green saari, with her gold jewelry and closed-toe shoes. Completely in her element.

A class in herself.

Nazia talked to a young woman on the side, her beautiful royal blue lehenga a sight to see. All in all they were a sight for sore eyes.

Tightness constricted my chest. I gave my mother a tight hug, hoping to convey my emotions in that small gesture.

"How are you holding up?"

"Good," my mother said, wearing a tight-lipped smile. My father took a small step forward and he placed his hand on my head.

"Baba..." I exhaled loudly with surprise. Baba's eyes shifted from me to the man by my side and I sucked in a breath.

"Mansoor Sahab."

Visibly flinching, my father shook his hand too hard and glanced to the side.

"Taimoor."

The two men sized each other up, with me in the center. Both my mother and sister watched with wide eyes and bated breaths. The panic in my gut swelled into a tsunami. The feeling rose, choking, wrapped in guilt. My breathing went shallow and my voice low.

"I hope you're having fun."

A pull twisted in my chest, hot with bitterness. Couldn't he have phrased it better? Baba didn't answer him but looked at me, his eyes clear and determined.

"How are you beta?"

"I've been well, how have you been? Hope everything's well? Have you met Imran uncle? He was asking about you..."

I knew I was babbling but I couldn't help it.

"Everything's wonderful. I'm glad you're happy."

Tears prickled at my eyes and I took in a shuddering breath. Baba looked at me with sad understanding, as if realizing I'd carried this fear for so long it'd begun to crush me. And now that the weight of it was gone, I became so light it was difficult to stay stable. I shook my head to underscore the point and made myself dizzy.

The world threatened to hurl me off it.

"You look nice."

"Courtesy of Nazia's pestering," resignation filled his voice. "She's learning very quickly."

"Oh."

"Congratulations," Nazia inserted, her eyes sincere and happy. Happy. My sister was happy.

A surge of happy warmth cascaded through my chest. No. I wanted to claw that feeling out with both hands, with all ten fingernails. But beneath all the walls, all the shields, there was still the ghost of that girl who wanted her family to be safe. And we weren't out of the woods yet.

"Go," Mama muttered with a quiet sniff. "I'm sure you've got other guests, we'll talk tomorrow."

At our brunch. The one I'd planned to let them know that we'd succeeded. That I'd gotten my family's assets and I'd secured our future. That the first six months were finally over.

I gave them a final hug and glided back. Out of their circle. Out of the safety of their loving gazes. There was only the smallest hesitation and I tucked myself under Taimoor's arm, so we could move through the crowd together. He was sweeping us out in the current, out of that conversation, and to the rest of the crush.

"What do you think?"

His gaze was hot enough to scorch.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you hear?"

Furrowing my brow, I concentrated on the gossip being discussed on the sidelines.

"Shocked he came into the limelight" floated over on the air, along with, "Doing quite well for herself now" and, "It's quite alarming."

"What the hell?" I whispered it under my breath, but Taimoor heard me.

"That's what we expected."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," I mumbled, sliding a hand up his shoulder to his neck. I did it to make him relax, but the second my hand touched his neck, I realized what a mistake it was. Taimoor's eyes were a captured storm.

He gripped my jaw with his hand, lifting my face, and my body stilled in his grasp."Time to shut them up. If you'll do me the honors?"

"To do what?"

"To dance."

A sickness rose in my throat. "Right now?"

"Everyone's looking at us," fire burned in his eyes so hot, they turned black.

"That's the point."

The music from the sound system was quieter now, or it was just the noise in my ears, but I could hear Annie Lennox singing about falling in love. Without any hesitation, Taimoor took my hand. My eyes widened as he drew our joined hands up and slipped his other one around my back.

He didn't ask me with words if this was okay. Instead, he used his body to lead me through a simple pattern, moving to match the tempo of the love song wafting in the air. My hand was small and warm in his, and he brushed his thumb over my skin just above the back of my blouse, causing my lips to part and an inaudible sigh to tumble out. It was almost like he'd planned seduction for me, but with this public dance to the sultry music and the chandelier glowing overhead, we crossed into a territory that was fraught with danger.

Words worked.

But for us, so did the physical.

Touches, kisses, caresses, we were two people between whom it could never be casual.

I moved when he did, and I turned beneath his hand when he guided me through it, the hem of my saari dusting across the shiny floor. I was trembling when I came back into his arms and stared up at him with big eyes, the reflection of the chandeliers faintly noticeable in his pupils. and I was giddy with anticipation. I had to pinch my knees together to hold in my excitement.

He was in command of our dance. His feet slowed us to a stop, his hand on my back urging me forward. A jolt of surprise went through me, but I softened when he molded my body to his frame like he wanted every inch of contact I was willing to provide. The fabric of the saari crushed against the front of his tuxedo shirt, and the heat of him soaked through into my skin.

It was foolish to be doing this.

Fariha's words bounced in my mind.

The consequences of such an entanglement could be catastrophic. Warnings beat like angry drums in my head, but I ignored them. He was too enticing, and no matter how strong I was, I could not resist its pull.

He dropped his lips until they brushed over the shell of my ear. "Better now?"

I was blushing from his public display of affection, but no one noticed. They were intentionally not noticing, from the way everyone avoided even making eye contact with Taimoor now. It reminded me of the fundraiser, how even when crammed in with so many others, we had a bubble surrounding us.

We were in our own universe.

"We've got a few people with their mouths open."

"Where's my uncle?"

Imran Mughal was at the center, tall and finely featured, bright-eyed. Imran, in his black tuxedo, was like a magnet for women in jewel-toned dresses. They surrounded him like a harem, leaning in close, but not close enough to draw the attention of his ever so present entourage.

"Amongst a beautiful circle of women."

"Just like I used to be."

I rolled my eyes at his teasing comment. "That was you?"

"Years ago."

Sensing my gaze, his uncle's head snapped our way. He seemed to be drawn in our direction, his body language nonchalant, but his voice was serious when he spoke. "I suspect no one will have any doubts about the future of the company with the two of you at the helm."

I let a beat pass before I lowered my eyes, cheeks smarting, the blush spreading down to my chest.

"Nice to see you mingling."

"I couldn't sulk at my favorite nephew's reception."

"Do you have any insight?"

"Your board member, Jamal looks a little shifty."

Taimoor casually tipped his head to the side. "I'd actually watch out for his son. He's power-hungry."

Imran Uncle nodded, his eyes sparkling. "I've got a few feelers out. Let's see what we find out tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is."

And then, with a small private smile, he was off. I stared at his back and leaned into Taimoor.

"I swear sometimes I feel like he works for the CIA."

Taimoor barked out a laugh. "That would be the easier explanation."

And that was that.

I knew I was a goner because this whole night felt absolutely right. All of this felt absolutely right. The couples dancing in the ballroom to a string quintet. The waiters circulating through the crowd, little delicacies on silver trays. The expensive desserts, dancing on my tongue.

And Taimoor.

Taimoor who was always next to me, and even when he stepped away to shake hands with various politicians, senators, businessmen, people in the media, and family connections.

Feeling like my patience was slipping, he rescued me with a charming smile and bent his lips to my ear. "That man had two wives and he couldn't keep either one of them happy so they divorced him, taking a huge chunk of his property."

It was so incongruous, so wonderfully, delightfully strange for him to gossip, that I threw my head back and laughed.

"That was good timing."

I let the laugh fall away, ignoring the twinge of disappointment in the center of my chest. I was in a good mood. A great mood. Tonight felt so real. It felt so natural that Taimoor would want to make me laugh in the center of all this pomp and circumstance, but of course- of course, it wasn't for me. It was for the people around us.

"I didn't see that one."

"Because you were having fun."

I shook it off and smiled up at him. He was right. This could be fun.

"Akbar!"

"Sir."

"Aliyaar isn't here, didn't he RSVP?"

"The Chief Minister had a family emergency, something about his daughter not being well. However, he did send his apologies."

"Damn it, I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him about the projects in Central Punjab."

"He did say that he would call you."

"I'll ask Jibran to follow up on that," his grip on my shoulders tightened and a shiver of pleasure quaked down my spine. More laughter flowed from Taimoor's parents. God, were they always so loud? "I think the party is getting a little out of hand, shall we retire?"

༻✺༺

I had soaked it all in - the bright lights, the enchanting music in the ballroom, the laughter of new friends and old friends enjoying each other, and Taimoor's face with every interaction, and they had combined like happiness punch to flood my veins with drunkenness that was mostly in my head.

Taimoor's room was the same as I'd remembered. After saying goodbye to a significant number of our guests, both my sister and my best friend deposited me in the room, their consistent giggling making my blood pressure spike. Taimoor said that he'd join me in a bit since he had something to discuss with Akbar.

And that was probably why I decided to wear the black silk number I'd ordered all those weeks ago. The luxurious material rustled against my bare skin, stopping mid-thigh, almost like a camisole. That wasn't all though. I was wearing underwear underneath the whole thing. I was brave, but I wasn't daring.

I opened the door even while a bright, cold nervousness flared in my gut. I could see Taimoor in my peripheral now, standing just outside the bathroom door, in his low-slung pajamas and no shirt, staring at me. I'd seen him shirtless before. He'd held me against his chest plenty of time. But coupled with my hormones and the tension in the air, nothing in the world could have prepared me for him. Taimoor might as well have been carved from marble, his muscles were defined, and my brain tried to make sense of it. The line of that jaw. Those strong shoulders. The nip of his waist into a defined stomach and I had to physically stop myself from running my fingertips down the scars on his chest. He didn't speak, and neither did I. I could hardly control the trembling in my legs, in my arms, in the center of me. The air got hot and thick as he stepped towards me.

"Uh-" his voice had a jagged edge, laced with pain. There it was, that needle prick of pain beneath my breastbone, puncturing the senseless joy of this evening. I agonized over it.

He didn't want me.

I'd made a mistake.

I'd misread his intentions.

"Sorry but apparently that's all that I packed..." or had been moved to my room. This was all Fariha's doing. I could have worn an oversized t-shirt but no. 

I swallowed and fought my nerves by focusing on him, the heat flushing his cheeks, the desire in his eyes. I wanted to see his eyes. I wanted to see his reaction. Taimoor wanted me. Yup, there it was. I didn't know how I missed it before. He wasn't pretending, wasn't disappointed. No, he was all but vibrating with passion.

I clenched my teeth to keep my jaw from quivering.

"You should be glad I didn't know you had this," Taimoor's voice dropped into a register that made my spine tingle with recognition. "Because that would have been a true testament of my self-control. Knowing you wore this in my house."

"Well-"

But he didn't move, and neither did I.

Taimoor... looked at me. We looked into each other's eyes like we were trying to read each other's minds.

It made my stomach swoop and my skin hot. Like I had been in the sun too long. Flushed and hot everywhere.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I gulped. "We're going to share a room, that's it."

"If that's what you want," Taimoor insisted, backing me up toward the bed - a dangerous, predatory glint in his eyes. "It doesn't have to be that way though."

"Is that what you want?" I didn't know where this bold siren was coming from but hell if I cared right now.

Taimoor cursed.

"That's a very dangerous question little dragon," there was a glint in Taimoor's eyes that felt almost dangerous but in a good way. It was funny, the first time he called me that, I wanted nothing to do with that nickname. Now, the sound of the name on his lips relaxed me, started a warmth growing in me. "You sure you want to find out?"

"Are you sure you want to find out?"

"Come here," he leaned forward and his voice was different. Darker. Almost hypnotic - a commanding, alluring voice.

My breath caught in my narrowed throat, and I didn't know why. I was so damn nervous.
I glanced toward the door.

"I won't stop you if you want to leave."

"I don't want to leave."

He smirked devilishly. "Then come here."

I rose to my feet. But I couldn't seem to make them move in his direction. At least not fast enough for Taimoor. Because he moved too and stepped toward me with that large, loose, confident stride.

Because the next thing I knew, we were pressed right up against each other, arms wrapped tightly around one another.

"Can I tell you a secret?" his voice brushed over me like the touch of a soft feather. Calming and smooth.

"That's a first, you voluntarily telling me a secret."

His eyes drifted over my face, before settling on my lips. "I've been obsessed with your mouth since the first time I saw you," his hand cupped my jaw and this thumb grazed my bottom lip. "This sassy little mouth that wouldn't hesitate to cut me down in a second."

He wrapped his arm around my lower back, pulling me closer until we were pressed against each other-thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, my breasts against the warm, solid wall of his chest. Sensation pulsed through me and it felt wondrous.

Taimoor's palm slid along, spreading across my hip, holding me, fingers clenching.

My nose brushed the hollow of his throat, and I breathed in the warm scent of his skin, dark, woodsy, and wintery.

"Don't be afraid. "

I looked up into his eyes, my voice a breathless whisper. "I'm not afraid."

My had mind finally caught up to what my body already knew. These strong arms...his arms...would always keep me safe.

"If it gets too much, or if it's uncomfortable, tell me to stop. Okay? Don't hold back Daania."

"Trust me, I won't."

Taimoor leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, a gentle, sweet touch. And then again, firmer. And still again, grazing back and forth. His mouth was warm, his lips full. And my heartbeat so fast I could feel it drumming against his chest.

"I've waited so long for this."

I lifted my chin, reaching toward him.

Thrilling joy and excitement, and burning, insatiable need all sang inside me. Taimoor's lips engulfed my bottom one, sucking gently, and a streak of heat blazed to my lower stomach.

"Okay babe?"

"Yes," I think I gasped or maybe moaned. Who knew? Better yet, who cared?

Squeezing the part of me he held, he dropped his mouth to my neck, kissing and nibbling his way down. I swallowed and ran my hands down his chest, glorying in him. When I rose to press kisses across his skin, he shuddered. I loved how he tasted, inhaling the inherent masculine scent of him.

His hand skimmed up my waist, slipping a finger under the strap of my negligée.

"This ..." he pulled back and shook his head mournfully, clicking his tongue. "This has got to go."

Slowly, he brushed aside the silk, his fingers creating down my bare arms, giving me time to adjust to pull back, his closeness making my head spin. The material cascaded down my body in a soft rustle, ending up in a black pile on the floor. His hand reached out to grab mine helping me step out of the circle, his eyes tracking over my small frame and my lacey undergarments. And then he stared at me like he was hypnotized. Another fissure of heat swept through me and I trembled under his weighted perusal. Ever so slowly, Taimoor stepped closer, his body heat chasing the goosebumps away, his head tilting above mine as he leaned down to brush a soft kiss against my shoulder.

My head rolled on my neck.

He lifted me under my arms and onto the bed. Placing me in the center he sat on the edge watching me.

"What's wrong?"

"I need a minute to control myself," he inhaled a controlling calming breath. "Don't want to end this early. I want you to enjoy this as much as me..."

A small giggle burst out of my mouth and he smiled, his eyes lighting up.

"We're going to take it slow, but not for long. Soon, I want to have my time with you, somewhere I can savor you," he reached for my hand, kissing the tips of my fingers, sucking them into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. "Where no one gets to hear your screams except me."

I didn't know if I was breathing and I didn't care. All that mattered was the glorious feel of his mouth on mine.

"Sounds like a plan."

I was on my knees, eye level with him, my arms on his shoulders, and slowly our smiles faded away. Taimoor looked down between us and sighed as he traced the waist of my black trim undergarments.

"I'm a methodical selfish man. I want you all to my myself."

"You won't hear me complaining."

He chuckled, then pulled me close across his lap and we began all over again. And it was as if something inside me, some joyous part of me that I didn't even know was sleeping, had finally been awakened, with this kiss. Slowly, he pushed me back and slid on top.

And the weight of him- the feel of his taut, lean chest pressing down on me- was electric.

Heavenly.

Taimoor kissed down my neck, then lower still over my collarbone. "Tell me what you like."

He held my small breast up for his mouth, still in its lacey confines - his lips closing around my nipple over the material with a groan.

"Do you like this?"

"Yes-" I think I answered and then I could not hear anything except the sound of my own gasps and my own pounding heart.

The feel of Taimoor's sucking mouth, his swirling wet tongue, robbed me of all my senses. He licked his way over to my other breast- palming and pinching the first as he laved and flicked at my nipple. I felt the hard ridge of him - hot and big- between my legs. Pressing against me. Sliding up and down against my opening- separated only by a thin, shifting, strip of cloth. Breaking the kiss as he played with the lace side of my panties, his chest heaving as hard as mine, he looked into my eyes.

"How about this?"

I nodded and whatever he saw there had him stroking his hand around my hip and under my panties to cup my bare cheek.

Shyness threatened to drench me.

He looked down at me, his grey eyes dark, almost black with hunger.

"Open your mouth for me. Give me everything, Daania."

I nodded mindlessly, and his mouth swooped down and the press of his kiss came back again. His erection was blatant, big and demanding, the hand he ran up my thigh and to my hip confident. This time I opened for him and his firm, hot tongue plunged between my lips, slowly stroking my own. And I felt brave and beautiful ... and wanted. I stroked back, rubbing my tongue against his, mirroring his movements. He groaned deep and hard from his chest.

I'd never felt so powerful.

That sound.

I wanted to make him make that sound again. Longer and lower. The flesh between my legs was throbbing now and my hips swiveled against him, all on their own.

"I've been dreaming of this ever since my birthday," he said against my skin as he tugged one strap of the bra free off my shoulder.

"How I always seem to end up like this around you?" I whispered against his throat.

My breast popped out, my nipple the picture of enthusiasm.

"I'm not complaining. I'm a lucky man."

The rough-edged comment hit me hard, made me boneless. Taimoor closed his hand over my breast and squeezed. When I moaned, he smiled - and oh, that slow, sexy smile was even more glorious than I'd imagined and it scrambled my brain until I forgot to be embarrassed or shy as he tugged off the other strap, then pulled both down my arms, leaving the material crumpled in the middle.

Wrapping one leg around his back, I luxuriated in the feel of his muscles moving underneath, fluid and controlled at the same time. The strong bands of Taimoor's arms wrapped around my back, lifting me so my face was above his. And still, our lips moved on each other's and our mouths pressed and our tongues swirled and I never wanted it to end. My hands wrapped around his shoulders, his neck, his corded muscles contracting under my palms. I sank them into the dark silk of his hair and he groaned again, making me feel more powerful than I ever had before. His chest expanded against mine hard, both of us breathing heavily. Taimoor tore his lips from mine, and they raked across my chin, my jaw, to my neck and I gasped senseless words, but Taimoor understood.

"Please..."

Then I was falling as he sat back, taking me with him. His lips returned to my mouth and his hand slid into my hair, cradling my skull, teaching me how he wanted me. I felt the touch of his palm on my face and I covered his with mine, wanting to touch him in every way I could.

Wanting to burrow closer, feeling a pull in my chest from my heart to his.

My Taimoor...

A voice whispered in my head- it was the first time I had thought of this man as mine.

Mine.

My beast.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down again, his hair messy and falling across his forehead and his lips kiss-swollen. I moved forward and Taimoor pulled back, teasing me, making me chase his lips.

"Do you want this?"

"Yes..."

Taimoor shuddered before taking a long, deep breath. He groaned and slipped his hand inside to cup the hottest, most private part of me. Having not expected the sudden move, I jerked.

"How much?"

"So much ..."

He grasped my knees, spreading my legs wider, and dragged his finger up and down through my wet lips. And then he speared me with it, pushed it inside in firm, thick thrusts.

"You with me babe?"

I drew in a moan at the hot, slick sensation, my muscles contracting at the invasion, and nodded.

It was wickedly dirty and incredible.

"Okay so far?"

I lifted my chin and groaned loudly at the ceiling.

"I-"

I was still, voice and body, and he was in control. It was unbelievable. Because it was all so much ... everywhere.

Building, surging, a brutal, beautiful onslaught. And then his finger was joined by another, the firm press of his finger sliding in and out of me. My muscles clenched hard around him without a thought, wanting to keep him there, keep him inside, because he felt so good inside.

"Fuck," Taimoor growled, the hot pant of his breath fondling my neck. "I knew it. I knew you'd be tight just like this."

His fingers moved faster and my hips rose, thrusting shamelessly up into Taimoor's fingers. One of his hands slid under me, squeezing and kneading my ass, before lifting me up to his relentless fingers. He pushed his fingers in deeper, the heel of his palm pressing flat against me, rubbing, dragging back and forth over that magical small nub in perfect sensual circles. Building and building, and...

"Oh Moor!"

"Stay with me babe," he kissed my tender skin, nipping with his teeth and scratching with his stubble. "We're not done yet."

And slowly, as he sucked and laved over my nipple, my body found its way back up that spiral of need. My breasts would be red tomorrow from the scrapes of his teeth and the roughness of his stubble and I just wanted more. My nails dug into the bedsheets of the bed, grasping for something to hold. As he teased me, I began moaning, my hips squirming, desperate for him to move. With a ragged growl, his finger slid slowly out and then back in.

"Tell me if you feel this," he curled his fingers inside me and I nearly rocketed off the bed.

He was going to kill me.

This was how I was going to die.

The assault on my G-spot was insane. My arms locked around him because it was the only stable thing that existed as he thrust inside me. Hearing him... feeling him lose control made my orgasm come even faster. His harsh grunts, the sheen of sweat that made my body stick to his, the uncontrolled movements of his fingers to get inside me harder and faster each time... all of it.

"Mooooor," my head tilted and I whispered as pure, piercing pleasure pounded through me. My vision went white and it was like I was flying, soaring, swirling.

The feel of Taimoor's strong hands and fingers made it go on, prolonging the deep sensual bliss. Slowly, I sank back to myself, breathing in racing gasps. Taimoor peppered soft, gentle kisses on my pelvis and stomach, before gazing up at me. And I wanted to lose myself in his stone eyes. I could. I could disappear forever into him and be insatiably happy.

"That was-"

A slow, devastating smile spread across his face when he looked up as if he'd made a discovery.

"Stunning. Absolutely beautiful."

"How did you-"

"You're very responsive babe," uh duh. My husband was literally sex-on-legs. I reached for him, touching his brow, his regal cheek.

And I begged. "Show me how to do that to you. To make you feel like I feel."

He flexed his jaw and his eyes went dark. "You're sure?"

I nodded. "I'm sure."

He rose, standing beside the edge of the bed, the hardness just jutting out of his boxer briefs. Taimoor slid his fingers between my legs, gathering my wetness and bringing his hand to his erection- coating it, stroking. He took my hand and wrapped it around him. My eyes bugged out. I could barely fit my fingers around it. It was warm against my palm, smooth as silk and rigid as steel.

And his face, his face was beautiful. Contorted in hungry, surging gratification. And I wanted more. More moans and grunts. I wanted to wring those sounds from his lungs.

This giant of man, who could break me with his bare hands, stood above me but was utterly at my mercy. Pleading in a way that made me moan with him.

I covered his hand with mine and twined my leg around his - pulling him closer.

And my body went loose and lax with trust. Taimoor shifted his hips, thrusting up, he didn't penetrate me, but his erection slid up and down against me, between my lower lips. I was slippery and warm from the rubbing, gliding, wet friction. His hips retreated, then pushed back again, and the hard head glided back and forth right over my sensitive nub, igniting a spike of hot pleasure that tore through me. I tingled everywhere and burned for more.

Taimoor held my gaze while his hips circled again and again.

"Yes?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Oh..."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No," I panted. He hit that spot again, and my back arched and my muscles clenched, to get closer. To get more. "Don't stop," my voice was keening, shameless.

Taimoor dropped his forehead to mine, and as his hips pumped wilder, harsher, his breath bit out in pants against mine. And his eyes. He was gone. He was raw now, a hard body of speechless need.

He palmed my bottom, pulling me against him, giving me more, taking me farther, higher.

"Move with me, babe. Yes... just like that."

My arms clutched at him and my hips rotated matching his thrusts. Taimoor bowed his head, slanting his mouth over mine, sucking on my tongue. And the beautiful sensation was rising, filling me with feeling. Like I could burst with bliss. And then I did.

And Taimoor burst with me. I felt his hot release on my stomach and his grunts in my ear. "Fuck, fuck..."

The masculine carnal sounds of his release fed my own and I moaned into his shoulder, pressing my teeth against his skin as the pulsing pleasure wracked through me. I went tight and stiff beneath him. Both of us taking and giving and feeling the rapture of the moment together.

I could stay like this forever, I thought dizzily.

Later, after Taimoor had gotten a cloth from the washroom and cleaned us both up, and we lay in a heap of tangled limbs on his bed, he pressed his lips to my temple.

"This isn't what I expected to happen, I swear," he thought on his words and then rephrased. "Well...not entirely."

I smiled.

"Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," just wrung out from the orgasms. "You were really good at that."

"I was eager to please," distracted by his biceps as he leaned on his forearms, I stared to the side. "Babe, my face is up here."

It was a laughing comment, his shoulders shaking. A hint of color splashed on my cheekbones.

"I'm listening."

"This wasn't why I wanted you to come to my room. I have something for you."

He kissed my forehead, then slipped from the bed. I sat up so I could watch him cross the room. I admired his tapered waist, the hard and how the muscles in his back rippled despite the deep scars, as he moved. Pinching my eyes closed, I steeled myself against the butterflies in my stomach.

I pulled the covers over my shoulders and shifted to sit on the side of the bed, my feet hanging off. Taimoor opened his top drawer, took something out, and walked back to me, crouching down. His hair fell forward into his eyes, and his grin made him look young and boyish and so very handsome. It was a powerful feeling, being seen after a lifetime of invisibility. And it knotted my body in confusing, opposing sensations.

"What's this?"

He placed the folder on my lap. "Open it."

I did.

"This-" was I reading this correctly? "Is this -"

"The contract."

My throat tightened. The one with the September timeline. The second deadline. The sword over our heads. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"You've got your copy. I've got mine," his hand came up to cover mine, his eyes fixed on my face. Slowly, I watched as his fingers grabbed the paper and ripped it from the middle.

I jumped.

That familiar uncertainty, the nervousness, and anxiety came together to weigh down on my chest settled deep in my bones; panic clutched at my ribcage, threatening to saw it apart.

Chaos stormed my head like an army laying waste to a shining city. This whole thing was so complex that it made my head spin. What the hell?

"Taimoor-"

"Daania."

He slid my hand to the curve of my waist, over my hip, and down the outside of my thigh. Setting my hand to his cheek, I ran the pad of my finger across the grisly scars there, ones I barely noticed now.

"What are you doing?"

He leaned back, hoping that the distance hid the anticipation that dropped on his face.

"What do you think?"

I swallowed hard at the first sting of tears. Trembles set in, and I exhaled a shaky breath. Any minute now, I was going to wake up. This would have been a dream. He probably thought I was overwhelmed- and he was right.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in the way he expected. My hormones were dancing like crazy. My thoughts spun even faster. I could see my vision blurring, things going in and out of focus. I was curling my fingers against my palms, trying to control the panic racing through me.

"I don't know what to think..."

I stopped, my vision growing hazy and my skin burning up under his gaze.

He was devouring with his eyes. Making plans, marking possession with his stare, as if by memorizing every curve and part of my body, he could claim ownership right now.

This was the male gaze that women always talked about, this is what they meant. Because in this moment, I felt owned, claimed, and almost possessed.

This felt unbalanced for all the things I had suffered in the past six months. He thumbed the moisture away and tipped his head, staring at me as if he was searching for a sign. For something.

Something dark and primal flashed in his eyes and I fought down a shiver.

"Hey, hey... it's okay. We'll leave it at this for the moment."

And with that, he folded me into his arms and drifted off to sleep immediately, whatever monster he awoke within himself tonight finally, finally sated.

༻✺༺

I woke up sore, sweaty, and happy.

I was wrapped around Taimoor, although his arms were slack, they were still slung around me. His breathing was even and steady, and I knew if I could see his face, it would be that rare expression of vulnerability that squeezed my chest every time I saw it.

I blinked for a few minutes, content and safe and transformed. I felt like a different person. A realer person. Like a fairy tale princess awakened from slumber.

But this wasn't for long.

I could not breathe or swallow or think or move or live any longer. My soul had reached nirvana and I was not coming back. Taimoor was overwhelming. He was powerful and yet oh so gentle. How had it taken me so long to experience this side of him?

I put my weight on my elbow, moving up from under the giant fluffy comforter, completely unwilling to leave the bed when he woke up.

"Don't bother trying to sneak out," he stroked his hand across my hair. I buried my face into Taimoor's shoulder without thinking as I tried to push the pesky thoughts of yesterday's confession away. It was a confession. Of sorts. And I needed some time to think about it.

Luckily, he didn't seem to mind the contact. One large hand came up to cradle me to him, and he smoothed his palm over my hair, gentle strokes I wouldn't have thought a man like him capable of.

"I'm not," I mumbled and he chuckled a warm low sound.

"Let's leave for Mughal House today."

"God I wish we could."

"Me too," he said in a gravelly tone, as he dragged his thumb across my lower lip. "It's getting a little too crowded with most of the guests deciding to stay here till New Years."

"That's a bummer."

He lowered his head so his lips were hovering just a fraction over mine. I was already aching for him.

"I've heard you guys have some sort of tradition?"

"Who told you that?" Taimoor just raised an eyebrow. "It's just for the people who're married."

"What do you do?"

My heart stopped at the question.

"They give little speeches for their significant others. Not everyone of course. Just the immediate family."

Baba was the reigning champion, always topping each year, giving heartwarming speeches for my mother. Remembering my parents brought a smile to my face. We were finally at the end of the tunnel. And with Taimoor's bombshell last night... it soothed the saddest bits of my soul, sunshine breaking through the cracks and lighting me up inside.

He opened his mouth and then paused - someone was knocking on the door.

"Someone better have an iron-clad reason for this interruption," Taimoor's expression would have scared the bravest of men. Thunderous, he threw on his trousers and stalked towards the door.

Akbar didn't step inside like he would if this was a real emergency. But also, because I felt he feared for his safety. "Sir, I wouldn't be knocking if-"

I couldn't see his expression but I knew that Taimoor was probably glaring Akbar down to the ground. I grabbed the floor-length silk robe from the wardrobe and tiptoed towards the door.

Taimoor stood at the end of the corridor, running a hand through his hair, sloppily dressed, shirtless, angry, and when Akbar reached for the door to pull it shut, he blocked it with his hand.

"What's happening?"

"Miss. Seher has-" Akbar's eyes moved towards me and I crossed my arms over my chest. "Morning Ma'am."

"What about Seher, Akbar?"

"Your mother has requested everyone to meet her in the library in thirty minutes."

My languorous mood snapped in half.

"Why?"

"Some new information has come to life."

"About what?"

"About your brother, Altamash."

Altamash. Again. It was as if his ghost was roaming the walls of this manor. Taimoor didn't say another word and slammed the door shut. We got dressed in record time. I think I took the quickest shower of my life, blow drying my hair in rough quick jerks and pulling on a pair of jeans and a cashmere top.

We entered the library together, hand in hand, only to find both of our parents standing together, the tension in the room reaching new heights.

Taimoor's mother stood to the side, her eyes boring lasers into Seher. It was slightly surreal to see her displeasure directed towards someone other than me. If the situation wasn't so scary, it would have been a little funny.

"What is happening?"

I didn't hear her answer her son because my feet were already moving towards my parents.

"Baba? Mama? Why are you here?"

"What is she going here?" Zeenia said coming in, Affandi not too far behind her, her tone acidic, her posture ready to tear Seher apart. Azaan shrugged, his eyes bloodshot and red, his feet splayed on the thick carpet.

Taimoor looked at his mother and lifted his eyebrows a fraction of an inch. His body was stiff, his jaw set, and tension held his posture as rigid as a statue.

"Seher tells me she had a little chat with the two of you last night. Seher, we're all listening."

Seher lowered her hands and I saw her spine curve under the weight of what she was about to reveal. It was as if every single person waited with stilted breath. It was so quiet in the library, not a soul was breathing.

"I knew you guys think that... that your brother crashed his car. But, Altamash didn't die from an accident," Taimoor stiffened and his gaze moved swiftly and directly to me, and I clenched my hands instinctively. Zeenia draped herself on a chair her eyes heavy with grief. "He... he couldn't bear the weight of what.." her eyes glistened and she looked at Taimoor. "Your brother loved you, he never wanted to hurt you. We never wanted to hurt you."

Taimoor curled his hand over mine and a tremble worked along my body as an emotional overwhelm set it.

"What are you talking about Seher?" Affandi's voice was soft but firm.

"I was clearing out the house and I found... I found his diary. Your accident," something in her tone made the hairs on the back of my arms rise. "Oh I'm so sorry Taimoor, your accident wasn't because of Mansoor Khan.... it was because of Altamash."

Taimoor's mother sank to the ground, her legs giving out from beneath her.

"Don't be silly Seher. You can't know that-" we whipped our heads to the side, watching the blood drain from Mughal Senior's face.

"And you just decided to drop this information now?" Zeenia spat out.

Seher choked back a sob. "I told you, I was clearing the house. And then, Haider Uncle invited me to your reception and I thought you'd forgiven me! I thought we were ready to move on! You were getting married to someone you were in love with, maybe we could all move on."

"Really Dad? Was that you?"

I knew we were all struggling to digest the information. But at this moment, it didn't matter. Everything hinged on Mughal Senior's next words.

"I invited her because she was a part of our family. There was nothing else to it."

Nothing else to it.

Nothing else like demeaning his son and making his wife uncomfortable.

Nothing else like making sure he showed that he still had some power over his son's emotions.

"He knew. He knew he was struggling with suicidal thoughts. He knew he was struggling with the guilt and he didn't let him talk to you," she turned her teary eyes to Taimoor and I flinched at the desperation there. Seher was not ready to back down. "He wanted to talk to you. He tried to talk to you but your father said that what was done was done."

"You threw my father under the bus..." I balled my hand into a fist and pressed it to my stomach like it could stop the hole from spreading there. Taimoor's father stared at me but I was beyond being intimidated by this man. "You fired him. You let your son believe that his mentor was out to sabotage him! That he was out to hurt him!"

"I was trying to keep the family together! How would it have played out if I'd told Taimoor that Altamash had ruined his experiment? That it was truly an accident? That he had caused him to end up in the hospital?" it came from him like steel wrapped in barbed wire.

Who was this man? What was this man?

My eyes moved to look at my father. My poor father who slumped to the side, his arm being held by my frazzled mother. Baba stared at me his eyes becoming glassy, his breaths becoming shorter.

I rushed towards him, holding him from the other end. He reached for me, his fingertips grazing my face to wipe away a tear I hadn't realized I'd shed, but as he'd done it, I'd caught the subtle shake of his hand. I wasn't the only one trembling.

The last time I'd seen my father like this, I had raged and had found a solution by myself because the hurt and frustration was locked inside and it seemed as though it was the only way to get the pain out.

Now, I was at a loss of what to do.

"Baba, are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm fine."

"Help him sit up," Affandi guided from the side, helping my father sit up, letting him lean against the wall, and helping him on to the low chair.

I stared at the statues around me.

I looked at Taimoor and disbelief slapped me across the face. My heart quickened until it beat so fast, blood roared in my ears. Anger flared and burned the tears up before they could fall.

This time, I'd invited the hurt in, welcomed it inside the walls of my heart. I'd felt the guilt of what my father had done. I'd fought for him. And for what? Because maybe, just maybe, sacrifice was the ultimate form of self-harm, accepted only because selflessness was admirable.

"You're a despicable human being."

Mughal Senior reeled back as if I'd slapped him. "Don't talk to me this way girl. Don't forget your place."

My bottom lip quivered, but I steeled myself to fight back.

"You have no right to talk to my wife this way. How could you do this? How could you let me live a lie?" Taimoor's tone was as dark as the black around his eyes. "You destroyed my life. You destroyed our family!"

"Don't talk to me this way. I'm still your father!"

"Really? Since when?"

The hurt on Taimoor's face was painful.

I felt like my heart was breaking for him, for the glimpses of the small young boy who wanted his father's approval, the little boy who wanted to innovate and build, to live his life. I could relate to him. To his pain.

Of course, my father had never said anything of the sort to me in my entire life, had never dismissed me, no, I'd lived in his shadow of my own choosing and that was painful enough.

"Watch your words boy! This is-"

The words died as Taimoor held up a hand to silence him.

"I'll watch whatever I want to watch," the anger that radiated from Mughal Senior was so hot, it invaded my senses with smoke. My mouth filled with ash. He glared back at his son. "After today, I don't want to see you in this house. You're not to set foot in this estate for the rest of your pathetic life."

"Taimoor," Zeenia's gasp reflected our collective shock. My teeth ground together so hard, my jaw threatened to crack.

"If I see you near the office, my sister, my niece, or my wife ever again, I won't be responsible for the consequences."

Taimoor's expression was calm, but it was like beautiful ice over a river, hiding the dangerous current roaring beneath it. His statement filled me with both sadness and dread. No one should have to live through what he had.

Taimoor's father paused just before he exited the room. "All I wanted, was for my family to be together," he turned to me and scowled. "There are things we have to do to protect the family. To protect the Mughal brand. You'll understand soon enough."

That was the thought he left us with as he exited the library, abandoning us all in the darkness of his own making.

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I finished this chapter on my phone, so for any grammar, etc mistakes, I'm very sorry. Also, the chapter was getting too long so I had to cut it short.

Other than that... thoughts? Feedback? Comments? Your comments help keep the motivation up! How'd you like the spice?

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