Protect others or cause them pain, is always our choice. - Beau Taplin

The time was of the essence. Every second, each minute that ran through them was a unit closer to their destination. The winds had changed direction as they drew closer to the monsoon. Their strength rippling from the tall trees that guarded the countryside like valiant soldiers. Doves and Pigeons flew around the open sky, with Hawk's in tow. On the ground beneath, in the bright green of the valley livestock grazed. Lazily under the sun, their tails swirling around and mouth's lowered. The freshness after last nights rain was tasted well on their wide tounge.

In their modernly furnished homes, the people of Mushkpur too got ready to enjoy the season. Proud smiles on their face as the mothers wiped their children's mouths with damp rag clothes. The bright feast that had been delivered under the new Duke's orders was scrumptious. Men sat on the sofas inside their warm lounge, mouths upturned in a smile as they sipped sugary sweet tea. Explaining to their women how the young man that had taken over, seemed to be more than good at his job. Flexing to their kids how they had worked the fields with him.

Inside the large Khan estate, renovations were well under way. Courtesy of Almas who wanted everything to have a fresh look for her youngest son's wedding. Zaeem's in laws had asked them to perform the full wedding. Loud and proud, they wanted to give their grand child the wedding of her dreams, and despite them extending this offer to Laila, she had refused. A bright cherry blush covering her cheeks as she hid behind Azmaray. Sarah joked that Laila was losing all confidence she had developed in the past few years, as a defiance of which she had kissed Azmaray smack on the lips as everyone watched.

For Anbar and Asghar though, things had not gone all that well. With their parents out of the home, and straight to jail as Azaan testified against the. There were nights Anbar missed Hooriya and wanted to run to her arms, however she could not ignore the fact that her mother had known about two murders and refused to do anything about that. Their grandfather Azaan was in jail, and last they had heard, someone had broken the jade head of his stick and bailed themselves out. Everyone knew how attached he was to the stick, so it was nothing but pure heartbreak for him.

Asghar and Anbar had been putting off their visit to the jail for the past week. Their hearts had been hurting and they had wanted to go meet the people that were their family for sometime. However, the betrayal that was staring them in the eye like a proud cobra pierced them. Sharp venom penetrating their veins and poisoning them. It sent their muscles into a shock, a toxic shock and hurt them beyond repair. Their only comfort had been in each others arms. Every night tears and silent whispers of fury were exchanged. Anbar's hands dug into his hand and his held her tight by the waist. They were building themselves back, a piece at a time. The tiny 'I love you's' that slipped in unconscious moments the glue holding them, delicately.

Anbar tied her hair into a three strand braid, tucking them under her printed silk veil. The red of her dress brought out the paleness of her skin. The neutral undertones, glowing. Her feline green eyes were filled with warmth and sparkle. Asghar and her were finally ready to face the skeleton in their closet, the promise Almas made to go with them was like the final push. A gentle nudge in the right direction. Her skin tight shirt with sleeves that brushed her wrist were stunning. The black embroidery with thin sequins running through the shirt, shone under the sunlight. Her black strapped YSL heels gracefully danced the dance of death with the staircase. Her movements graceful like a swan as she moved through the team of event planners and to the side of her husband, like a moth to a flame.

Asghar passed her a small smile, his ears still focused on listening to the designer about the orders he had to place for the mayun of Zaeem. They were going all out, grandeur and splendor would reflect off of the walls. Nothing was compromised on, only the best of the best for the youngest Khan. Wrapping his arm around her waist, without any conscious effort, he relaxed. The contours of his hard back softening. Nuzzling into her palms that rested on his broad back. Their conversation changed from the number of marigold chains that needed to be collected to the carters and food.

"Didn't we get barbecue and ghoti daal?" [See to the end of the chapter.] Asghar frowned at the man.

"You did. Mrs. Asghar asked for the addition of pateesa in the desert menu, while finalising everything," [A local dessert] he informed.

Asghar nodded, noticing the cheeky grin on Anbar's face as she hummed under her breath. A loose lock of auburn hair slipping out from under the veil and curling against her air brushed cheek.

"Kab tak khaana ajaye ga?" [Till when will the dinner arrive?] Asghar questioned.

His gruff voice warmed Anbar's stomach. The dominant look inside his eyes punched the air out of her lungs. She was a fish out of water. Her heart calmed a moment later the heat on her flushed face dimming as Almas walked into the foyer. Dressed in a pale blue dress with a pastel pink organza veil resting in her neck, she looked ever the part of being the Duke's mother. Excusing themselves from the young man the two followed behind their mother. Sharing sneaky smiles as Asghar helped Almas into the car.

Seeing him be so gentle was so extraordinary. His large hands were so out of place as they delicately folded the part of her veil that hung out of the car door. His head bowed infront of her as she dropped a kiss in the centre of his head. She clenched her thighs her brain a whirlpool of images. Of her and Asghar in intimate positions. Of his rough hands gently touching places no one had ever seen, of carefully taking her. However it were the thoughts of him ravaging her like a wild beast that did the most damage. Him taking her without care and pushing her over the edge —maybe they were ready to explore that part of their relationship. Stolen kisses under the moonlight were no longer enough.

The drive to the districts jail was short. The roads had been cleared and a heavy train of guards followed behind them. The head of their security already having cleared the main area. Asghar parked the car and helped both the women out, a change from his usual uncaring air. The SHO walked out and greeted them with a stiff nod, leading them into the part where the criminals stayed before their hearing. He left them alone for privacy sake, handing the keys to the prisons lock to Asghar.

The ceilings were low and cemented. Cracks in the walls allowed sunlight to drown in. The white lights on the roof, lighting up the broken floors. Behind thick iron bars, were four or five shoe box sized rooms. Wooden planks that were not more than a few meters wide, hung over the wall. A thin pillow and blanket thrown over them. To one side was a small toilet and sink, mirrors absent lest the prisoners use them to hurt themselves. The chipped floors were decaying and Anbar noticed mold in more than a few spots, her disgust visible in her expressive eyes.

She stood out like a sore thumb in the muted surroundings. The dull white walls made her red dress seem ten times more blazing than they actually were. Her eyes hovered over a few of the criminals, their eyes hovering over her body with lust. Gulping, she pushed herself into Asghar's back, reaching out to hold his hand. He squeezed her hand in reassurance, throwing a poisonous glare in their direction. Guarding her with his broad frame, he led them towards the last two rooms. In one, Saheefa and Hooriya sat with frowning faces, picking at the food in their silver plates. The other held Azaan and Arbaaz. Staring out of the tiny bared window, the views of grass going on for miles.

"The two of you meet your mother's first, I'd like to talk to Azaan Khan," Almas squeezed their shoulders in assurance.

Asghar clicked the lock open, helping Anbar enter the cell. She gulped back the tears, taking a deep breath as she sunk to her knees. Resting her hand gently on Hooriya's thigh. Kissing the back of her palm with a sheen of tears.

"Ma-ma," she smiled.

Hooriya looked up at her, kissing the side of Anbar's head.

"Anb-Anbar get us out of here please. I'm your mother, do you—do you think I deserve to rot in here? Please take me out. Asghar will listen to you!" Hooriya whimpered.

Right beside them, Saheefa and Asghar were engaged in a heated stare. His eyes held a train of accusations. No words spilled though, the pain in his chest only increasing by the second as he stared at the woman who had given birth to him.

"Asghar bail us out," Saheefa stiffly ordered.

"Even now you're giving me orders. Aaj tou narmi dikha dein," [Atleast show some softness today,] Asghar scoffed.

"You are where you are because—"

"Because of Almas ma's kindness and generosity. Not you," he clenched his teeth.

His heart ached inside his chest, he wanted to run into Saheefa's arm. She was his mother, he wanted to belive what she said. Be unknown to her crimes once more.

"Asghar let's leave, please," Anbar sniffed.

Asghar nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Kissing the side of her head, Anbar's arms wrapping around her frame as she sobbed lightly.

"I have nothing to say to the two of you! Even today the two of you want us to do what you want. How selfish can you get? My mother never cared about me. Like a rag doll you threw me into the arms of two men. You let Azmaray run so that he would give it to Asghar. But you didn't once think of me. You didn't even stand up for me when I cried about not marrying Asghar!" Anbar let out the frustrations inside her heart.

"It's not like that," she spoke.

Asghar raised his hand simply and the two turned around. Their hearts shattering into a million pieces as they walked out. However the warmth of each other's presence assured them, that they would he quite alright.

"I can't see anyone else. I'll wait for you two outside," Anbar kissed Asghar's cheek.

He looked at her with worry dancing around in his eyes. The small upturn of her lips, reassuring him that she would be alright. Entering Azaan Khan's cell after Almas exited, Asghar scoffed. There were light blue bruises on his hand, clearly for not following the rules.

"Buddhay aadmi paar haath uthanay ka itna shouq nahi hai, warna eik aadhi haadi mein khud tor deta apki," [Raising my had on elderly men is not my interest, or else I would have broken a bone of yours myself,] he spat.

Azaan stared at him with something that could be called betrayal, but not quite. They had never been close enough to build the base of trust.

"Phansi lagi tou sab sai aagai mein khara ho kar dekhun ga. Khaandan ap nai tabah kia, ab kudh barbad honay ki baari hai," [If they hang you I will stand in front and see it. Your broke this family now it's time for you to be destroyed yourself,] he kicked the dust on the ground.

Having no more words to speak he exited, his uncle's hurt face did little to faze him. The pain they caused his wife, was unforgiveable.

mature content
(Light)
(Will mark when gets extreme)

———

| Anbar's dress |

The first wedding event of Zaeem had dwindled into a light flame. The ceremony, all ladies, began with an uproar as his sister-in-law's walked out with bowls of turmeric paste. Grinning at their cheeky deevar [youngest brother-in-law], Laila and Anbar painted him yellow. Their mother-in-law cheering on them, the loudest. Everyone from their extended family took turns with him until it was time for dinner.

Anbar was dressed in a floor length peshwas [traditional dress], it's lightly burnt orange shade complemented her skin and hair, tastefully. The deep square back held the dress together with thin gold tussles. The sleeves were fitted and ended at her wrists. Thick gold embroidery and faux diamonds studded on the ends. The rest of it was covered in a light sprinkle of gold embroidery and sequins, that had danced under the warm yellow lights, all night. Her hair in a braid and decorated with decorative pins. The antique bronze went with the embroidered vines that bordered the deep neckline.

She had just stepped into their bedroom with a maid carrying their dinner on a tray behind her. The wet henna on her hand, preventing her from eating, and she knew only her husband would agree to feed her. She politely smiled at the maid, closing the door with the edge of her shoulder. Her heels sunk into the thick hand crafted carpet, the dress dragging on the faux fur softly. Keeping her back straight she sunk into the wide cream sofa, her back resting against the emerald green silk cushions. Asghar turned to her, his hands busy serving himself.

"Mujhe bhi khilain na," [Feed me too,] she brushed her crimson lips against his ear lobe.

"Kis khushi mein?" [For what reason?] He smirked.

"Because you are a good husband!" She grinned.

"When did I say that?" He tapped her nose.

"Fine!" She huffed.

Turning her face away from him, Anbar stared at their wedding picture that had been framed above Asghar's desk. Her face carried a small smile that she had managed to throw at the camera while he stared down at her with the single most tender look in his eyes. Her stomach grumbled and she stared down at it with a painful longing in her wild green orbs. Biting her lower lip as she peeked at Asghar making a bite with the seekh kebab, naan and dipping it in yougurt. Her mouth dried at the sight of it, a frown as she saw him actually lift it to his lips. She sunk her gaze to the bottom of her dress, the spicy aroma of the food making her hungrier.

A short second later, a hand was infront of her. The sturdy palm lifting the bite to her lips. She gazed up at Asghar, who grinned at her. Opening her mouth she wrapped her lips around the bite, her tounge brushing against his thumb. She chewed slowly, thanking him.

"Ab itna bhi bura shohar nahi hun," [Im not even that bad of a husband,] he kissed her head.

Dinner passed with sneaky touches. His hand lingering on her bottom lip as he wiped the yougurt sauce, sucking it off of his fingers. She occasionally bit on his fingers, all on purpose of course. By the second, his gaze got darker. A heated frenzy covered his actions as he controlled the storm that was inside of him from erupting. Anbar crossed her legs in order to reduce some of the pressure that built up between her legs. Clenching her lower belly. Her hooded eyes gazed at Asghar—desire running through them both.

He tightened his jaw preventing his self control from snapping. Taking deep, open mouthed breaths. Standing up from the sofa, she stumbled into their ensuite, in order to remove the crackling henna from her hands. Underneath she could notice a deep maroon shade had already stained her skin. Grabbing a soft scrubbing brush she ran it over her hands gently, giving herself time to let the desire cool down. Asghar entered the bathroom and used his side of the double vanity to wash his hands. Stepping behind her brushing his broad frame against her back. The rough material of his shirt dragged against her bare skin.

Prying the brush out of her hand, he dragged it against her hand. His face resting in the crook of her neck, his thick beard brushing her cheek gently. He softly held her wrist, his thumb following along the thin vines on her hand, her heart racing. Anbar willed her mind from stumbling off of the tracks, but it seemed to be quite impossible. She bit her lower lip, hard. Drawing a droplet of blood, which her tounge immediately licked at. She had no idea when he got done cleaning the rest of the henna, only hearing sounds as her mind was miles away.

His hands dragged along her bare back. Digging into her soft flesh, setting it on fire. Goosebumps ran through her body as he kissed the middle of her neck. His tounge licking a strip up to her earlobe. Where he left a soft kiss, sucking on the skin. His own breath was harsh as he felt Anbar's heart beat quicken, her hands fisting the side of his shirt, the other holding his hair in a tight grip. He loosed the thin string on the back of her dress, watching the front of her dress droop. He pushed one of the sides lower, his forefinger hooked under the fabric.

"N-not like this Asghar. I have a gift for you," Anbad choked out.

He let go off her, his body in visible pain as he gave a stern nod, leaving her alone in the bathroom, while he took a seat on their bed, removing his own clothes and leaving himself only in his boxers.

mature content.
Extreme—18+
Feel free to skip the rest of the chapter.

———

Anbar stepped out dressed in a powder blue nègligèe. The dress was made of thin satin and under the yellow lights of their bedroom, he could make out the shape of her areola. The thin fabric ended over her upper thigh, held together by an intricate work of strings. Meshed together in a large bow. Underneath she only wore the silk blue panties. Go big or go home, she repeated. Her hair now loose, sat on her barely covered shoulders. The ends of her hair grazing the slops of her breast.

Asghar's eyes widened at the sight infront of him. His mouth dried up as she walked towards him and took a seat on his lap. Her hands around his neck, the swell of her breast crushed against his chest. She let her hands explore the ridges of his muscular back, her lips peppering kisses on his wide throat, soft moans falling from her full lips as his core slid against hers. She could feel an uncomfortable wetness cover her panties, the apex of her thighs taut and the muscles of her lower stomach tightening. He brushed a single finger down her neck, across her back, digging under the thick strings, brushing her bottom and then resting on her left thigh. His palm flexing and covering the pale flesh.

His hazy gaze met hers. The shades of green and hazel clashed. His mouth forwarding and his warm breath brushing her face, lightly. Anbar gulped, wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling him in further. Her lips landing on his. It was a battle of dominance, hers cushioned against his and fighting his sharp tounge. He squeezed her thigh, dragging another arm behind her and working on loosening the ties. All the while, their lips kissed. He sucked on her lower lip, his teeth biting into them gently. Anbar felt her frustration grow, the hollow feeling getting deeper as she rubbed her hips against his—at a maddening speed.

Asghar held her back and flopped her onto the matress. Opening her legs, he stepped in between them, his weight resting over her body gently. He could feel her erect nipples against the satin material. Holding her hips in place, his kissed her neck. Sucking the skin below her collarbone. Using his nose to drag the now loose nègligèe down her shoulder. His coarse beard dug into her soft skin and she let out a few sharp breaths. Moaning softly as she felt his teeth graze the top of her sensitive flesh. Raising his body, he dragged the sheer material off of her. Leaving her only in the thin panties. The cool air of the A.C made her nipples pebble even harder.

Their light pink shade made Asghar say his prayers. She was perfection. Crafted so delicately, that he was left in awe. His breath hitched, eyes hungrily taking in the majesty that lay infront of him. Her silken hair covered his pillowcase. Her swollen lips parted to breath harshly. She was panting, at his mercy. His. She was his—and for once Asghar could not belive his luck. His thumb brushed her lower lip, her teeth sinking into it as he dragged it lower. The back of his hand running down her mole less skin. His fingers, brushing the underside of her full breast. Her muscles stiffened, before she loosened up. Her breaths turning into pants and sweat beading at her forehead.

He lowered his mouth and let his tounge roll around the erect nipple. His fingers kneading the other one. His warm mouth covered the soft flesh completely, Anbar's hips raising and digging into his thigh, humping him as the need for friction down there increased. Lifting his head having paid his attention to her breast, like a hungry devout, he kissed her lips. His fingers hooking into the waistband of the flimsy panties and tearing them off.

As his mouth lay kisses on her chest and the underside of her breast, his fingers found her wet folds. His shoulders keeping her legs apart, his hand rubbing her lips.

"Asg-har," she moaned softly.

He sucked on the skin above her last rib in reply. Proud of all the red marks he had left behind, marking her as his. Full filing his desire. His finger toyed with the hardened nub, rolling at around, feeling her clench and unclench her muscles at a harsher speed. He dipped one finger inside her folds, the walls latching onto it in an instant. Her moans music to his ears.

"So tight. So good". He praised in her ear.

Letting her get used to one, he slid his hand out, sliding in two fingers next. The hilt of his hand smeared against her wet folds as he thrust back on forth. Her own hips moving to meet the pace of his hand. Screaming in delight as he rubbed her clit. The orgasam he forced out of her, rippled through her body. She felt light headed, her body flushing and breath turning quick. The rushing of her bodily fluids was like a sweet aftershock. Her body still reeling off of the effects.

Asghar sucked on his fingers, staring her dead in the eye. Her heart beat racing again. He took of his boxers, rubbing his length against her wet entrance. She groaned, still sensitive from the previous one. His hands rubbed her clit, preparing her for penetration. Protection was not required, he had tested for STD's and had come out without any. His infertility of course, ensured they would not have any kids. He guided his member on her opening, reminding himself to ask.

"Are you sure you want this Anbar?"

Anbar looked at him from her dark eyes. Her eyelids heavy. She could see the desire that coursed in his being. Knew that he was holding himself. One word and all self restraint would break. The threads would snap one at a time.

"Yes". She spoke, her voice scratchy.

Asghar nodded, sliding inside of her inch by inch. He stilled every few seconds, making sure she was used to him being inside of her before he moved. Her slick walls slid against him and held him tight. He groaned at being in contact with her in the most intimate of ways. His upper body, sliding against hers, their hands entwined as he stilled.

"Fuck I'm not going to last long," he groaned into her neck.

Anbar moaned as he began to move. His hips rotating and thrusting inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to follow his rhythm as the pain dulled by the minute. Asghar kissed her hard, drinking her moans. He rested his sweaty forehead against hers, his thrusts turning harder as they neared on to their release. His heart beat maddening, like it was going to lurch out of his throat any moment. As their release ran through them, their toes curled and the two moaned each others names. Their hearts steadying and blood rushing through them. Euphoria, pure euphoria. Stars, colours, constellations and all filled their vision. The need inside their soul, quenched. Their auras had been tainted.

Forever and more.

mature content over.

You will be getting double updates on Friday and Saturday ❤️❤️
Okay so longest chapter yet.
I'm proud of the smut ngl.
Love to see it.
Thoughts & Comments.

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