A/N: I might have had this chapter planned out from the moment I started writing this story, hehehehe. Enjoy!

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Murtasim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – desire, worry, regret. The sound of Meerab's pleas had cut through him like a knife, tearing at his self-control. He had never been good with tears, especially hers. Her sobbing pleas resonated in his mind, stirring a burning need within him to chase the tears away. As soon as he hung up, he couldn't bear to stay away any longer.

Murtasim moved through the silent house, each step careful, each breath measured. His body was aching with the same want he'd heard in Meerab's voice. His own hand had unconsciously wandered during their conversation, offering some relief to the tension that had built up. He adjusted his hardness, discomfort evident, his arousal a clear reminder of his desire for his wife.

Slipping into her room, he quietly shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence. The room was dimly lit, her figure sprawled on the bed, visible in the soft glow. His heart hammered in his chest, a fierce longing coursing through his veins as his eyes feasted on the sight in front of him.

Meerab looked over at him, flushed with desire, her wide eyes staring at the door in disbelief as if she hadn't expected him to come for her. Her body was under the thin sheet, the curves evident even under the fabric. Her face was glowing in the light that filtered from the lamp, a captivating sight that had his breath hitching.

Her scent filled the room, an intoxicating mix of her natural scent, roses and jasmine, and the hint of her arousal. It was a heady smell that drove him wild, his senses overwhelmed with all things Meerab. His eyes flared with desire, a low groan escaping him as he took in the sight.

Murtasim's heart pounded in his chest as he came face-to-face with her. Her hands, hidden beneath the blanket, were still moving in rhythmic motions, her t-shirt, visible above the top of the sheet that covered her, skewed from her restless movements. To Murtasim, she looked breathtakingly beautiful in that moment. His body reacted to her instinctively, his desire for her overwhelming him.

He was entranced, his eyes locked onto the small movements under the thin sheet. It was evident what she was doing, she hadn't stopped even at the sight of him, and it caused a rush of arousal to course through him. The moment was hotter than any fantasy he'd ever conjured up, reality far surpassing imagination.

He could hardly tear his gaze away from her. "Don't stop." He instructed, his voice a low rumble. The sight of her, lost in pleasure and desire, was too intoxicating to resist.

But her only response was a soft, pleading "please."

She withdrew her hand from under the sheet, the glimmering evidence of her arousal coating her fingers. The sight sent a jolt of desire through Murtasim, his eyes darkening as he watched her. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, stirring something primal within him.

Slowly, Murtasim made his way across the room, every step calculated. He sat down on the bed next to her, his body aching with the desire to touch her, to just pull the sheet off her, rip all her clothes off and bury his face between her legs.

As if reading his thoughts, Meerab brought her fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent of her, the tangy-sweet aroma filling his senses. Then she did something that took his breath away - she offered him her fingers, bringing them close to his mouth. He couldn't resist the temptation. Closing his eyes, he took her fingers in his mouth, tasting her, the flavor of her arousal sending a rush of adrenaline through him. The slight smirk on Meerab's face told him that she knew exactly how tempting she was.

All he could think of was how much he wanted to bury his face between her legs, to taste her, to feel her writhing under his touch, her legs over his shoulders, the anklets he put on her loud by his ear. The need to make her feel good was overpowering, a burning desire that only she could quench.

Murtasim held himself in check, a feat he thought impossible given the wave of desire coursing through him telling him to just rip all of their clothes off and bury himself inside her heat.

"Show me how you were touching yourself." He instructed instead, his voice thick with longing.

Meerab shook her head, her eyes wide and vulnerable. But Murtasim wasn't about to let her off the hook. "Do it Meerab." He commanded, his tone brooking no room for argument.

Slowly, she complied. She began to pull the sheet away, but he shook his head. If he saw her in her current state – wet and glistening for him – he knew he'd lose all control. He'd take her then and there, tradition and Lahore be damned.

No, the sheet would have to stay.

"Did you play with your breasts?" He asked, his voice lower than before, knowing she had. She blushed a lovely shade of pink and nodded, not meeting his gaze.

"Show me how." He ordered. He watched as her hands moved under her T-shirt. They cupped her breasts, lifting them in slow circles, before trailing over her nipples.

Murtasim's breath hitched at the sight. "Pinch them." He instructed, his voice gravelly.

She complied, her back arching off the bed and a gasp escaping her lips. The sight made him groan, his mind filling with images of what her breasts would look like under his touch, if the colour of her nipples would match her lips. He hated the t-shirt she wore for hiding her from him, but he also loved it because it was the only thing keeping him in control.

In the dim light, he could see her fingers moving under her shirt, playing with herself. The sight, combined with her sounds, was intoxicating, stirring up an intense yearning within him. Murtasim was completely entranced as he watched her, causing a rush of arousal to surge through him. The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of her desire, driving him wild with need for her. He was close to the edge himself, his body aching to join her in pleasure.

His voice was a low purr when he spoke. "And then what did you do, Meerab?" The anticipation was almost unbearable, yet he held himself back, letting her guide this intimate experience.

Meerab hesitated for a moment, her lips trembling as she looked into his eyes. She seemed unsure, but she swallowed hard and answered. "I... I touched myself... down there..."

His heart hammered in his chest at her admission. "Show me..." He requested softly.

As she slid her hand lower, under the blanket, he saw the movement in the dim light. His breathing grew ragged, the room now filled with tension and desire. Her body shifted and squirmed under her own touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Murtasim felt his self-control slipping as her face showed the pleasure she was experiencing.

"Did you..." His voice trailed off, but the question hung in the air as he hand stopped, the sheet still.

She shook her head in response, her face contorted in frustration. "I... I tried... but I couldn't...maybe I did something wrong..."

He shook his head. "We'll figure it out, meri jaan."

She smiled up at him and nodded.

A surge of desire ripped through Murtasim as he watched her resume touching herself.

"Tell me how it feels." He commanded in a low, strained voice, the sound making her shiver.

"Feels like...like fire." She whispered, a tremor running through her. Her hand was a blur underneath the sheets, but it seemed to be moving along the length of her slit, rather than focusing anywhere.

"Touch your clit for me." He instructed, knowing from random things he had read and seen that it was the magic button for most women, the raw desire in his voice betrayed his restraint.

"I...I can't...it's too much but it doesn't work." She gasped, a flush creeping down her neck and chest.

"Try again for me, rub your clit, slowly." He instructed.

He watched her with heated eyes, noticing her body writhing on the bed, her hips bucking under her own touch. He could almost feel the silk of her skin under his fingers, could almost taste her on his lips.

"Murtasim..." She moaned, her other hand coming to touch him, her fingers trailing from his stomach towards his hard arousal.

He caught her wrist just in time, stopping her from doing something he knew he wouldn't be able to resist.

"Behave." He said, his voice firm but strained, knowing she would try again, that she would touch him and he would lose all control. If she put her hands on him, he wouldn't be able to stop.

He glanced around and found a dupatta laying on a chair. He swiftly moved to grab it, his heart pounding in his chest. The sight of her on the mattress, flushed and wanting, was too much for him to resist.

"I'm going to tie your hands to the headboard." He told her, trying to keep his voice steady. "And then, I'm going to touch you. If you touch me...if you even try to touch me, this whole house is going to know what we're doing in here. Understand?"

Meerab's eyes widened, but she didn't protest, rather she nodded. He could see the desire in her eyes, the raw need that mirrored his own. He quickly tied her hands to her headboard, the grey dupatta contrasting sharply against her flushed skin.

Once her hands were tied, he sat back, his eyes never leaving her body. He watched as she writhed, her body arching off the bed and towards him in frustration.

A fresh wave of raw desire seized Murtasim as his fingers traced down her body, trailing over her shirt-clad breasts, he groaned when he realized she wore nothing underneath the fabric. He ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples, flicking back and forth over the shirt, until she gasped his name loudly.

"Shhhhh." He whispered as he pinched them, pulling.

The way she reacted to his touch made him want to rip her shirt off, to let his lips suck on her, to let his tongue lick her, and his teeth bite and pull on her nipples gently. He resisted though, just barely, letting his hands trail down towards her pajamas.

The cotton of her pajamas did nothing to hide the heat emanating from her. The sight of her, so open and willing beneath him, had him aching with desire.

"I promise you, meri jaan," He murmured, his voice rough with lust, "as soon as we can, I am going to spend days learning your body, touching you, tasting you until you're whimpering my name."

Her eyes were wide as she nodded, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He continued his exploration, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her pajamas. A moan slipped past his lips as he trailed into forbidden territory and found the warm wetness of her arousal, his own cock twitching in response.

"Fuck, Meerab." He groaned, his fingers running through her slick folds, he hadn't known that it would feel like it did, like touching wet silk. She was soaking for him. Her gasp echoed throughout the room, sending a shiver of desire down his spine. She was so warm against the skin of his fingers, he could only imagine how much warmer she'd feel against his cock.

His thumb found her swollen clit, and he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips as she bucked her hips, a soft moan leaving her lips. "Murtasimmmm."

"Like this?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He continued to circle her clit, his movements slow and torturous. She squirmed beneath him, her moans growing louder with each stroke.

"Or like this?" He changed his movements, now rubbing up and down on her clit. The change elicited a gasp from her, her fingers clenching around the dupatta.

"That one." She whimpered, her hips bucking against his touch.

He hummed in approval, his eyes drinking in the sight of her beneath him - so exposed, so vulnerable, and so incredibly sexy. The flush of her face and neck, the way her body arched up towards him, the soft whimpers leaving her lips... it was all too much.

His fingers traced further down, teasing at her entrance.

"Did you slip your fingers inside you?" He asked - even though he knew she had - his voice rough with lust.

She gave a short nod, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"And what did you imagine was inside you, Meerab?"

His heart pounded in his chest as she whimpered. "You."

"My fingers?" He clarified, his eyes darkening as she glanced down at the bulge in his pajamas. "Or my cock?"

"Both." Her lips parting as a soft moan escaped her.

"One day." He promised, his voice hoarse with desire.

"Today?" She asked, looking up at him, eyes dazed, lips parted, panting.

Fuck.

"Don't push me, Meerab." He said as he dipped two fingers inside her, a choked gasp leaving his lips at how incredibly warm and tight she was. He hadn't known it would feel like that, his imagination had done him no justice. She was so hot and tight around him, her insides moving against his fingers, pushing him out and pulling him in at the same time.

He wouldn't last with that around his cock.

Murtasim heard her cry out, her fingers tugging at the dupatta tying her to the headboard. He hushed her softly, his thumb returning to her clit. "Shhhhhh, Maryam and Rumi will hear you."

"Kiss me." She whimpered.

He shook his head. "I won't be able to stop at a kiss." He lost all coherent thought when her lips were against his, and Meerab knew that. She could persuade him to do anything with her lips against his in that moment.

Instead, he focused on pleasuring her, his fingers moving in and out of her in a rhythm that made her gasp and whimper. His fingers moved with purpose, caressing her inner walls, exploring every inch of her warm, velvety depths. The squelching sounds of her arousal filled the air, evidence of just how wet and eager she was for him. It was an intoxicating sound, and it only served to make him more determined to push her closer to the edge.

Meerab's body trembled with every stroke of his fingers, her hips instinctively moving to meet his touch. The feel of her slick walls against his fingers was unlike anything he had experienced before. He marveled at the way her body responded to his every movement, how she seemed to melt under his touch.

His thumb found her clit, and he circled the sensitive nub, eliciting a sharp gasp from Meerab. Her back arched, and her fingers gripped the sheets tightly as he continued to stimulate her. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, a symphony of delight that was music to his ears.

Murtasim's gaze never left her face, wanting to witness every flicker of pleasure that crossed her features. The sight of her lost in ecstasy, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from the way she kept biting her lips to hold back her sounds, was an image he wouldn't forget.

He increased the pace of his movements, feeling the tension building within her. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and he knew she was on the edge of release. He wanted to push her over, to be the one to bring her to that peak of pleasure.

Murtasim's fingers moved with tentative curiosity, exploring every inch of Meerab's warmth. He had never done this before, and although he was eager to please her, he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. As he experimented with different movements, he noticed a subtle change in her reactions.

He shifted his focus to a shallow and fast in-and-out motion, caressing a spot just two inches in and at the top, and he could feel her body respond immediately. Her gasps turned into loud moans, and her hips began to move in sync with his fingers. He could tell he had stumbled upon something that was bringing her pleasure.

Encouraged by her responses, he continued the shallow and fast rhythm, and he noticed her body tensing and her breath quickening. He could feel her walls pulsing around his fingers, a sign that she was getting close.

He felt a rush of satisfaction at knowing he had found the spot that drove her wild. "Right there, meri jaan?" He asked, his voice husky with desire. Her enthusiastic response only spurred him on.

"Yes!" She gasped, her body responded eagerly to his touch, her hips arching up to meet his hand, her breaths coming in short pants. The sight of her writhing beneath him, her eyes heavy with lust, filled him with an intoxicating sense of power. He was the one bringing her pleasure, and it was a heady feeling.

He continued his gentle ministrations until he had her on the brink of release, her body writhing beneath him, her eyes heavy with lust.

As her legs started to shake, Murtasim could feel her drawing closer and closer to the edge. He placed his hand over her mouth, his words barely a whisper against her skin. "As much as I'd love to hear you fall apart, those sounds are only for me, meri jaan."

His heart pounded as he felt her moans vibrate against his hand, his pace quickening as she drew closer to the brink. She writhed beneath him, her hips moving in sync with his fingers, her bound hands pulling at the dupatta as her climax approached.

Then she came, her scream muffled by his hand as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, her eyes wide as she rode out the aftershocks. Murtasim could barely breathe, the sight of her, and the feeling of her wrapped around his fingers was overwhelming. His mind was filled with images of being buried deep inside her, of her wrapped around him, imagining how perfect she would feel around his cock, his hand didn't come anywhere close.

He was sure he'd come in two seconds as soon as he entered her heat, especially if her walls squeezed him the way she took his fingers.

"Fuck." He groaned, pulling his fingers free. "I want to be inside you so badly right now."

"I am not stopping you." She said, her eyes flickering over his face, her breathing loud and filling up the space between them.

He groaned.

Her eyes flickered down to his hand, curiosity gleaming in her gaze. "Doesn't it taste weird?" She asked, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

With a smirk, Murtasim brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he licked them clean. The taste of her arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn't help the low moan that escaped his lips. He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

He let her taste herself on him, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned into the kiss. The taste of her was a potent reminder of the pleasure she had just experienced and a promise of what was yet to come.

"I have to go." Murtasim murmured, his voice hoarse. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew that if he stayed much longer, he wouldn't be able to resist her. He'd give in to his desires and take her right there on her bed. It would ruin years-worth of waiting, and he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't be able to stop, that his mother would ship her off to Lahore in a heartbeat as soon as they got the door to her room open.

Meerab's eyes flickered down to his crotch. "You really should let me help."

Murtasim couldn't help but chuckle at her forwardness. "I'm going to go touch myself, Meerab, I do a lot." He told her, his voice full of longing. "And I'll think of you. I'll think of how perfect you are, how you felt coming around my fingers, how good you taste, and how much I want you, and I'll come harder than I ever have before."

She let out a soft moan at his words. "I want to watch." She whispered, her eyes wide with curiosity and desire.

He shook his head, trying to ignore the arousal that shot through him at her request. "We shouldn't - " He started to say, but she interrupted him.

"Please." She begged, her eyes pleading as she tugged lightly at the dupatta binding her wrists. "I'll stay like this."

Meerab's eyes were fixated on him, a mix of curiosity and desire shining in those wide, beguiling orbs. He couldn't deny her plea, couldn't resist the pull of her wanting gaze. Murtasim gave in to her request with a heavy sigh, letting go of his inhibitions, knowing that there was no turning back now.

As he undid his trousers, his heart raced with anticipation and a touch of nervousness. His breath caught in his throat as he revealed his throbbing cock, the mere thought of her watching him, of seeing the hunger in her eyes, sending a surge of arousal through him. The air in the room was charged with electricity, a palpable tension that hummed through every fiber of his being.

Her breath caught audibly when he took himself in hand, and he saw the unmistakable hunger and desire flash in her eyes. It was an intoxicating sight, knowing that he was the source of such wanton longing in his wife. Her soft whimper sent shivers down his spine, a delightful sound that fueled the fire burning within him.

It was a surreal moment, an intensity that hummed through the room.

With deliberate slowness, he began to stroke himself, keeping his gaze locked with hers. The intensity of her stare, the sight of her wide-eyed rapt attention, the unbridled hunger she didn't even attempt to hide, was mesmerizing. It was as if he could feel her touch on him, as if her gaze alone could send waves of pleasure through his body.

Her words still echoed in his mind, how she had willingly offered herself, telling him she'd let him do anything he wanted to her. The thought stoked the fire of his desire to new, uncharted heights. Meerab's lips parted slightly, and he watched the way her breath hitched with each stroke of his hand. He could see the rise and fall of her chest, the subtle shift of her body, as she unconsciously responded to the sight before her. The knowledge that she was watching him, that she desired him, was an aphrodisiac that heightened his own pleasure.

His hand moved on his cock, fingers firm and sure. A shiver rolled down his spine at the little hum she let out, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, her eyes on his hand and cock, a feral satisfaction curled in his gut at the sensation of his hand gliding along his length and her eyes on him.

It felt incredible but it wasn't enough; the sensations were a poor substitute for what he yearned for. The picture of her, bound and pliant under him, the texture of her warmth engulfing him was a tantalizing fantasy that consumed his every thought, it was so close, he just had to give in.

"I want to touch you, Murtasim." She whispered, her voice laced with need.

His pace quickened, he imagined her slender fingers wrapped around him rather than the dupatta, the feel of her soft skin against his hardness. Her curious touch stoking his desire to an unbearable point. It wasn't just her hands he wanted. Not when she licked her lips while staring at her cock the way she did. The image of her lush lips closing around him flashed in his mind and he groaned, his movements growing erratic.

Meerab watched him closely, her dark eyes full of fascination. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen, her innocence mixed with curiosity and desire was intoxicating. Every heavy breath he drew echoed the rhythm of his movements, each stroke edging him closer to the precipice of his climax.

Murtasim observed Meerab with a hawk's eye, the corners of her lips flexing and relaxing in rhythmic motions, echoing her myriad of thoughts, like she wanted to say something. So he inquired, his voice rough as gravel. "What do you want, meri jaan?"

She made no attempts to hide her desire. "I want to touch you." She said, her voice laced with a rawness that set his nerves on fire.

His dark eyes flashed at her words, a sliver of anticipation creeping into his voice. "Soon... but is that all you want?" He asked, she had licked her lips while looking at him so many times that he couldn't help but wonder if she thought about it too, taking him into her mouth.

The shake of her head was barely noticeable, but the intensity in her gaze told a different story. "What do you want, Meerab?" His question was punctuated by his own hand, increasing its pace on his aching hardness, intoxicated by the way her eyes fixated on his movements.

"What about you, Murtasim? What do you want?" She retorted, a challenging gleam in her eyes as she flipped the conversation back onto him, refusing to answer or admit that she was suddenly shy, her cheeks blooming with colour.

A low growl escaped him. "Your hands on me." They would feel so much nicer than his own, soft and small, rather than calloused and large.

"You've bound them." She responded with a whimper, her bound wrists straining against the dupatta.

He laughed at her complaint, the amusement in his voice transitioning into a grunt of pleasure as his strokes became more frantic. "Your delectable mouth, too."

Meerab ran her tongue over her parched lips, a fire in her eyes. "I want to learn."

His breath hitched, his mind conjuring images of her, kneeling in sweet submission before him, her lips parting as he instructed her on how to take all of him. "Of course you do." He managed to choke out between groans, his Meerab would shy away from nothing.

"I want to feel you inside me." She whispered, her voice barely above a murmur but the words, they cut through the tension like a heated knife.

A strong shake of his head tried to negate her suggestion but his mind was a traitor. His thoughts betrayed him as he pictured it, burying himself into her warm depths, recalling the heavenly feel of her around his fingers. He swallowed thickly, letting the image seep into his already stimulated senses.

He imagined sliding into her, the hot, tight sensation of her around him. His hand clenched around himself, the slick glide of his palm over his cock echoing the rhythm of his thoughts. The pleasure tightened in his gut, building to an overwhelming crescendo.

Murtasim gritted his teeth as his release hit him, harder than ever, his vision blurring for a moment as waves of pleasure washed over him, his legs shaking. He grabbed a handful of tissues from her night table to avoid making a mess. His fingers, slick with his arousal, continued their rhythmic movements, drawing out the intense sensation until his body stopped trembling. He drew in shaky breaths, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at Meerab, her dark eyes wide and her face flushed.

Their connection in that moment was tangible, a shared intimacy that had never existed before. It was a moment of vulnerability and honesty that had them seeing each other in a different light. Despite the brevity of their encounter, Murtasim knew that this shared experience had changed their relationship permanently.

His eyes met Meerab's and held her gaze as he finished, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

He could see the wonder in her eyes, as if she was seeing him in a completely new light. And maybe she was. For the first time, they had given in, if not completely, then just enough. He knew he had just made it worse, that the liberty they had just taken would make it harder to control themselves. But as he watched her smiling face, the haze of satisfaction evident, he couldn't regret it.

His heavy breaths echoed in the quiet room as he came back down to earth, his nerves still tingling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. With shaky hands, he tucked himself back into his trousers, the fabric feeling oddly rough against his sensitized skin.

Meerab watched him, curiosity glinting in her eyes as she popped a question that had him raising an amused brow. "Does it... hurt when you're hard?"

He shook his head, his voice a low, husky rumble as he responded. "Not hurt, meri jaan. More like... a need. A deep-rooted desire for relief."

She hummed. "Can I touch you now?" Her question was innocent enough, but her tone hinted at mischief. Again, he shook his head, his body still recovering from the intense climax, too sensitive to her touch.

Her lips turned down in a pout. "Untie me at least, Murtasim." She whined, her wrists wriggling against the dupatta.

He should have known better. He should have known she was up to something, but the pleading look in her eyes was too much for him to resist. With a resigned sigh, he reached for the dupatta that bound her, his fingers working deftly to loosen the knot.

The moment her hands were free, a triumphant grin spread across her face. Murtasim barely had time to process her quick movements as she flipped their positions, tugging him down onto the plush mattress, her body straddling his. A startled chuckle burst from him, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to steady her.

Meerab's fingers weaved through his hair, tugging him down to meet her eager lips. The kiss was wild and intoxicating, a fiery clash of teeth and tongue that left him gasping for breath. She tasted like sweet, sinful temptation, and he found himself falling into the maelstrom willingly. His hands roamed up her sides, sliding under her shirt, fingers dancing over the soft expanse of her waist, reveling in the way she shivered beneath his touch.

Her body rocked against him, creating a delicious friction that had him groaning into the kiss despite the sensitivity. She was the flame and he was the moth drawn to her, losing himself in her touch, in her taste, in the sheer intensity of her presence.

Caught in the rapturous haze of their shared intimacy, Meerab planted quick, playful pecks on his lips, each kiss punctuated by a breathy declaration. "I... love... you." She murmured between kisses, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Murtasim was taken aback, a tender smile gracing his lips as he returned each of her featherlight kisses with an equal measure of affection. The raw vulnerability in her voice stirred something deep within him, making his heart flutter. "I love you too, meri jaan."

Yet, she didn't stop there. She added, a teasing tone in her voice. "Mera bewaqoof shohar."

He arched his eyebrow.

"What man touches himself when his wife is willing to do it for him?"

His eyes, warm pools of liquid amber, met hers. He let out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing up her back to tangle in her hair, pulling her in closer, until their bodies were flush against each other, groaning as he felt her breasts squish against his chest without the barrier of a bra. His voice was a low, raspy whisper as he confessed. "Meerab, if I let you touch me, I'd become addicted. I wouldn't be able to stop myself. My self-control hangs by a very thin thread when I'm with you."

Her response was a challenge, her voice a sultry murmur against his ear. "And you think what we just did isn't as addicting?" With that, she rocked her hips against him, a provocative move that sent a ripple of desire coursing through him.

He groaned, the noise deep and guttural, vibrating against her. His grip on her tightened, his fingernails digging slightly into her skin as he fought against the surge of desire that threatened to pull him under. His eyes were dark, burning with a fire that mirrored hers.

"Behave, meri jaan, please." He urged her softly, his voice a rumbling whisper against her lips. Her response was an exasperated sigh, her chest heaving against his as she stared at him with frustration simmering in her eyes.

"We're torturing ourselves for nothing, Murtasim. We're married." She stated, a potent mix of desperation and determination tinging her voice. "Yes, the rukhsati is months away, but it's clear we're not going to make it until then."

He countered her statement with a confident exclamation, his voice ringing with a conviction he wished he felt. "We will, Meerab. We will make it."

She laughed then, a short, bittersweet sound, her lips curving in a wry smile. "I won't let us make it to then, Murtasim."

His reaction was instinctual, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. She reached up, her fingers tenderly tracing the line of his jaw before cupping his face. "I don't know where this is all coming from. We're already doing what Maa Begum doesn't want us to do, you're here alone. It would be no different if you gave in."

He sighed then, his thumb brushing gently over her cheekbone. "It would be different, Meerab. This..." He gestured between them, his voice trailing off momentarily. "...is a less potent drug. I can walk out of this room after this, but if I have you, and I know especially now that I know how to it feels to just have my fingers inside you, I won't be able to leave."

She exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to his lips before meeting his eyes again. "Okay, then no...actual sex? But you touched me, so let me touch you."

His refusal was immediate, instinctual. "Meerab, behave."

Shaking her head, she frowned slightly, her eyes searching his, "No, you keep blaming your mother for it but there's something more here, so tell me." Her tone was firm, her gaze unwavering, pressing him for an answer.

In Murtasim's heart, he found a deeper reason, one he struggled to articulate even to himself. It wasn't merely fear of his mother's threats that held him back. There was something more, an innate desire to honor the traditions, the values he had been raised with no matter how much he didn't want to.

He traced the lines of Meerab's face, his fingers brushing against the softness of her skin as he found his voice. He confessed, his gaze heavy on hers. "It's about... us. About doing things properly. I've waited for years, I've made you wait for years, because I wanted to do things properly, giving in now, just a few weeks to go, feels like all of that was for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing." She whispered, her fingers rubbing his cheek. "We waited because somewhere it made sense, you waited because you wanted me to have my dream, and I love you for that, Murtasim. You say you want to do things properly...but we are married now. If we were having this conversation two weeks ago, I'd agree with you, it's why I didn't push too much. But it makes no sense to me now, the rukhsati is just something this family insists on."

"I know." He replied, his voice just a whisper. "But there's something to be said for the rukhsati, for the waiting. It's not about following old customs mindlessly. It's about respect for our roots, our traditions. It's about giving them their due, acknowledging their importance in our lives."

"But it's our marriage." Meerab protested, her eyes questioning. "Shouldn't we decide what's important? And this – what we're already doing is not proper then – these traditions were made eons ago when women married strangers, and needed time to get to know their husband, when they left their home and travelled great distances to a stranger. I am moving down the hall, jaan, I know you. I trust you. I love you, Murtasim."

A rueful smile tugged at the corner of Murtasim's mouth. "I hate it when you make sense." He admitted, trying to ignore the rationality of her argument.

"Well, you should be used to it by now." Meerab shot back, her laughter filling the room with a warmth that eased the tension. "I always make sense. We need a compromise."

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he asked. "A compromise?"

"Yes, a compromise." She affirmed, her eyes sparking with mischief. "No actual sex because if there is anything religion is actually obsessed with it's a women's virginity - which is stupid but we'll get to that at some later point. But...let me learn your body, Murtasim. And you, learn mine."

He groaned at her words, his mind a whirl of images that both tempted and terrified him. "And if my mother catches us...?"

The confidence in Meerab's voice surprised him. "We won't let her, and even if she does, you won't let her send me to Lahore." She declared, her lips curled in a knowing smile. "And even if she does ship me off, you can come and get me. I'll sneak out the window, we'll disappear into the night. It'll be fun, I promise, we'll look back at all of this very fondly and this way we get a head start for our wedding night too."

She punctuated her plan with a soft, insistent kiss, her lips pressing against his, distracting him from his worries. He couldn't help but laugh at her audacity, caught up in the daring adventure she painted. His Meerab, his beautiful, stubborn, audacious wife, challenging him and the world in the most enchanting ways.

As they continued their kisses, the taste of her lips heady like sweet nectar, Meerab breathlessly whispered between the gentle pressure of her lips against his. "Say yes, mere shaitaan."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, fears, and desires, but one thing rang true above all – his love for his fearless wife, and his desire to make her happy.

"Yes." He found himself saying, the word slipping past his lips as they moved against hers. A promise, a surrender, an affirmation of their mutual desire.

The reaction was immediate. Meerab let out a delighted squeal, her happiness vibrating through him, igniting a sense of joy and anticipation that coursed through his veins. He found himself grinning against her lips, the shared excitement of their secret understanding creating an electric undercurrent in the air around them.

Theirs was an adventure that had only just begun.

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A/N: So, what do you think? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did you expect this? Hehehehe. 

Also, just a heads up (and you might already know this if you read Unveiling Meerab) - I will be giving birth literally any moment now, so I'll be going on a brief hiatus once I have my baby and settle in. This might be the last update for this fic for a bit.

I hope to be back maybe in late August/Early September! So, that means if you re-rad one chapter a day of this fic, and then chapter a day of MNI and UMI, I'll be back before you finish! Thank you for all your love and support so far!