As Ayaan stormed out, the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension. The front door clicked shut behind him, but Hooriya remained frozen in place, her heart still racing, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She barely registered when Hira, her mother, approached, her voice soft but insistent.

"Beta, chalo, sab intezaar kar rahe hain," Hira urged gently, her tone a mix of concern and resolve. Alayna and Yashfa flanked her, their presence offering some comfort, though it did little to calm the storm inside her.

" Hoor kasma se bomb lag rhy ho" Yashfa tried to lighten the situation, bur she recieved only a small hesitant smile.

With hesitant steps, Hooriya followed them, her head lowered, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. She could feel the eyes of the unfamiliar faces in the hall before she even reached the bottom of the stairs, but she couldn't bring herself to meet them. Instead, she cast her gaze downward, as though the floor could provide her with some semblance of refuge.

When they finally reached the living room, Hooriya was led to a couch, where the potential groom's mother was seated. The woman's presence was warm, yet it felt cold to Hooriya in that moment. She was neatly dressed, her eyes assessing. There were too many unfamiliar faces in the room—too many people whose judgments Hooriya could already feel weighing on her.

She hesitated for a moment, but Alayna and Yashfa gently guided her down to sit, positioning her directly across from the older woman. The sofa in front of her was occupied by three men: the older one, looking wise and somewhat intimidating with his sharp gaze, and the two younger men, one of whom looked barely older than Hooriya herself. They were all staring at her, their eyes filled with quiet curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.

Her heart beat heavily in her chest, the room spinning slightly. She wanted to scream, to run, to escape, but there was nowhere to go. She could hear the sound of her own breath, shallow and uneven, as she tried to gather the strength to face this moment.

The groom's mother broke the silence, her voice calm and measured, though there was a sense of probing curiosity underneath.

"Toh, Hooriya beta, hum yeh jana chahte hain ke aap ne kis kis cheez mein interest liya hai, Aap khis field main study kar rhy hain " The woman's eyes searched Hooriya's face for any sign of discomfort, though her words were polite.

Hooriya barely had time to register the question before the woman continued, "Aur cooking ka kya khayaal hai? Apko ghar ke kaam, khana banana... sab karna aata hai?"

Each question felt like a pinprick, digging deeper into the delicate shell of Hooriya's composure. The crowd around her seemed to grow larger, the eyes more scrutinizing. Her uncles, her father and others—sat there, their gazes neutral but present, watching, listening. Their eyes were kind, but Hooriya couldn't shake the feeling of being under a microscope.

She swallowed hard, the words trapped somewhere deep inside her. She was acutely aware of the presence of everyone in the room, especially of Ayaan, who stood off to the side, his posture rigid, his face a storm of fury. Hooriya could feel the heat of his glare, even from this distance. She wanted to run to him, to seek refuge in the man who had only just promised her he would never let anyone take her away from him. But she couldn't. Not now.

Azlaan, standing next to Ayaan, also wore a tense expression, his jaw clenched. Even from across the room, Hooriya could see the faint furrow in his brow—he, too, was unsettled by the situation. but not because of Fairoz bur because of his annoying flirty brother.

Meanwhile, Asfandyar and Sheharyar stood protectively beside her, their eyes darting between the family members, clearly aware of the subtle tension in the room. Faran, Rafay, and Zayaan were seated nearby, engaged in a low conversation, though their attention flickered occasionally to Hooriya.

The weight of their gaze felt too much to bear, but it was the groom's mother who continued her line of questioning. She spoke with practiced ease, but Hooriya could sense the subtle judgment in her tone.

After a long moment of silence, the woman's voice hardened as she gave a tensed smile. "Achha beta, Fairoz se baat kar lo, apas mein baat kar ky, shayad aap dono ek doosre ko behtar samajh sakein." Her suggestion was almost casual, but it held an undeniable weight.

Hooriya's heart dropped at the idea of speaking to Fairoz alone. She hadn't even looked at him yet—too afraid that if she did, she would see nothing but expectations in his eyes. But now, it seemed inevitable. The elders, including Hooriya's own uncles, nodded their approval.

Ayaan's fists clenched at his sides, his anger practically radiating from him, but he said nothing. His eyes never left Hooriya as she slowly stood, her body trembling with each step. Qainat offered a small, friendly smile as she gestured towards the garden.

"Fairoz, beta, chalo, aap dono ko lawn tak le chalun," she said, her words a little tight. she had sensed her niece's uncomfortable stand.

Hooriya's legs felt heavy as she moved towards the door. Her mind was clouded with so many emotions—uncertainty, dread, and something else she couldn't identify. She didn't look back at the others, though she could feel their eyes on her—especially Ayaan's, sharp and unforgiving.

As they walked toward the garden, Hooriya's heart thudded painfully in her chest, the weight of the moment almost too much to bear. She couldn't escape the thought that, perhaps, in this moment, there was no way out of this. No way back.

And yet, there he was—Fairoz. She hadn't looked at him yet, hadn't dared to meet his eyes. Would he be like the others? A stranger, a possibility? Or was he just another chapter of a story she didn't want to be a part of?

The garden seemed far away, and yet, it was already closing in around her, as though everything she had feared was about to unfold.

As Hooriya and Fairoz were left alone in the quiet garden, a heavy silence settled between them, thick and suffocating. The air was warm, yet it felt cold to her, the weight of expectation pressing down from all sides. She didn't look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the ground, fiddling with her fingers nervously. It was the only thing she could do to distract herself from the man standing beside her.

Fairoz, however, wasn't in the least bit shy about breaking the silence. He took a step closer, his voice carrying with a deliberate smugness that made Hooriya cringe inwardly.

"You know, I've seen you around," he began, his tone condescending yet casual, as though they were old acquaintances. "Not bad looking at all, really. I mean, I didn't expect much, to be honest. But you have a pretty face... and your proportions..." He paused for a moment, as if savoring the thought, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her skin crawl.

Hooriya felt an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. The way he looked at her made her feel like she was nothing more than an object to be appraised. His words fell from his lips with a sense of entitlement, as though he were offering her some sort of compliment, but to Hooriya, it felt more like a threat. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she said nothing. She couldn't bring herself to respond. There was no need. She was already repulsed by his presence.

She shifted her weight nervously, glancing around, desperately trying to find something to focus on, anything other than him. But then, as if sensing her discomfort, Fairoz took another step closer, reducing the distance between them. His gaze remained on her, but now there was something darker in his eyes—something predatory.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and almost too intimate for comfort, "since you've been sitting there, I've been looking at your figure. I swear, from the moment you sat down, I couldn't help but notice... your tummy... what a perfect little waist. Your body—kasam se... it's a sight, Hooriya."

His words were slow, deliberate, each syllable seeming to wrap itself around her, suffocating her with its vulgarity. Hooriya felt her stomach twist with disgust, her face turning pale. She could barely stop herself from shaking.

But then, just as she thought she might be sick, Fairoz took another step, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in even closer.

"Kya figure hai tumhara," he whispered, his words dripping with unmasked lust. "I've been watching you the whole time. It's—"

Before he could finish the sentence, before Hooriya could react or even process what he'd said, a sudden movement cut through the air like a thunderclap.

With a fierce crack, a punch landed squarely on Fairoz's face, knocking him sideways. Hooriya's gasp was drowned out by the sound of the blow, and before she could even register what had happened, another punch followed, harder this time, causing Fairoz to stumble back, his hand flying to his bleeding lip.

She blinked, shocked and momentarily frozen, as Fairoz staggered, dazed from the force of the blow. But then she saw who had done it.

Ayaan.

They weren't as alone as they thought.

His face was a storm, his jaw clenched in fury as he advanced on Fairoz. Without a word, he slammed another punch into Fairoz's stomach, causing him to buckle in pain. Hooriya flinched at the violence, but she couldn't look away. She had never seen Ayaan so angry—so raw.

Fairoz, reeling from the attack, tried to back away, but Ayaan was relentless. His fists moved with precision, landing blow after blow, each one harder than the last. It was clear that Ayaan wasn't just angry—he was furious beyond measure.

"Saale teri itni himmat" Ayaan growled, his voice low and filled with menace.

His immense height and broad built made Fairoz look like a kid in comparison.

Fairoz, barely able to defend himself, managed to raise his hands in a futile attempt to shield his face. Blood trickled from his nose, his once composed features now a mess of pain and humiliation.

"Meri hoor ko haat Laga raha tha!!! ghaleez insaan!!! aj to tera wo haal karunga ky saari zindagy yaad rakhy ga kaminey". his mouth continued to spit crude words at Fairoz.

Hooriya stood frozen, her heart racing. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She could only watch in a dazed horror as Ayaan continued to beat the life out of the man who had dared to touch her, to look at her as though she were something to be possessed.

Ayaan's rage was blinding, and it seemed endless, until finally, one last punch landed with a sickening thud, sending Fairoz crashing to the ground.

Panting heavily, Ayaan stood over him, his chest heaving, eyes wild with anger. The space between them was filled with the sound of his labored breath. He didn't look at Hooriya—not yet. He was still too consumed with fury.

Hooriya's eyes were wide with shock, her mind still trying to process everything that had just happened. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. She had never seen this side of Ayaan, and in that moment, she wasn't sure what it meant for her.

Finally, Ayaan turned to her, his eyes softening, though there was still a fire burning in them. He took a step towards her, but Hooriya instinctively backed away, unsure of what to say. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the words caught in her throat.

Ayaan stopped, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, there was only silence between them.

a painful whimper escaped her mouth and made it's way into the air.

Ayaan didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out, gently pulling her into his arms, his touch surprisingly tender after the storm of violence he had just unleashed.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again" he muttered, his voice softer now. "I promise hoorie."

Hooriya clung to him, her hands trembling as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the safety of his embrace. She didn't know what the future held, but in that moment, she knew one thing for certain.

Ayaan would protect her—no matter the cost.

Ayaan stood there, his chest heaving with each breath, his knuckles still clenched, dripping with Fairoz's blood. Hooriya's face was buried in his chest, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing holding her together. She was trembling, her breath uneven, and her tears were like silent rivers running down her cheeks.

The silence between them was thick, as if the world had paused. Ayaan's protective instinct didn't falter; his hands gently stroked her hair, though his mind was still spinning with anger and thoughts of how far he would go to keep her safe.

But before either of them could say anything, the sound of footsteps broke the quiet. Azlaan and Asfandyar stepped into the scene, their expressions shifting from confusion to shock as they saw Fairoz lying on the ground, battered and bruised. They stopped in their tracks, their eyes immediately going to the two people standing at the center of the chaos.

Azlaan's eyes flicked to Ayaan, then to Hooriya, and then to Fairoz's bloodied face. Asfandyar, equally baffled, scanned the scene with a keen eye, quickly piecing together what had happened. The tension in the air was palpable, and both men could tell—whatever had gone down, it wasn't good.

Azlaan's brow furrowed. "Ayaan...?" he started, his voice hesitant, but he didn't finish the sentence. He could see the way Hooriya was clinging to him, her body shaking, her face pale and tear-streaked.

Asfandyar's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. " Get up."

Fairoz, groaning, slowly pushed himself to his knees, but the pain was too much. He couldn't stand. His hands were covered in blood, his shirt torn, and his pride shattered. He glared at Ayaan, a mix of humiliation and fury in his eyes, but there was a hesitation there too. Ayaan had made it clear that he was not someone to be messed with.

Azlaan stepped forward, his tone cold, eyes narrowing as he addressed Fairoz. "Yeh kya drama karne ki koshish kar raha hai tu?" He glanced at Asfandyar, who gave him a slight nod, then turned back to Fairoz. "You're not going to make this worse for yourself, Fairoz. Just leave. Abhi ke abhi, and without any more trouble."

Fairoz's lip curled into a snarl, but he stayed silent, realizing that there was no room for negotiation. He wasn't stupid enough to escalate things with Azlaan and Asfandyar—especially when both of them were more than capable of making sure things went from bad to worse. But he was still seething, his pride hurting, and he looked at Hooriya, his eyes burning with a quiet venom.

"You don't know what you're doing, Hooriya," Fairoz spat, trying to hold onto some semblance of dignity, but his voice was weak, lacking the confidence it had earlier. "You'll regret this."

Azlaan stepped closer, his tone low and warning. "Agy sy bhabhi ka naam bhi lia na tune, to zinda nahi bachegha kuttay." His eyes glinted with warning. " sansain cheen le ga wo tery" azlaan pointed atAyaan .

Asfandyar, equally cold, added with a smirk, "Aur agar yeh chaahte ho ke thory izzat Bach jaye to kahin bhi apna ganda mun nahi kholo gy."

Fairoz swallowed, the weight of their words sinking in. His expression wavered, the arrogance melting away as he realized there was no way out. He wasn't going to win this one. His pride couldn't handle it, but his fear of what Azlaan and Asfandyar could do to him if he resisted was even worse.

"Fine," he muttered bitterly, his voice laced with humiliation. "I'm leaving."

He got up, wiping his bloodied lip with the back of his hand, shooting one last venomous look at Hooriya.

" Ankhain neeche kar!!" Ayaan's thunderous voice boomed and made the little girl in his arms flinch.

The men watched as he staggered off, limping toward the exit of the garden.

As soon as Fairoz was out of sight, Azlaan turned to Ayaan, his expression still tight. " Ayaan, Tumhein usse itna maarne ki zarurat nahi thi."

Ayaan didn't answer at first. His fists were still clenched, his jaw tight. He looked down at Hooriya, who was still holding onto his shirt. Her face was buried in his chest, and the shaking of her body hadn't stopped.

"I couldn't let him get away with it," Ayaan finally said, his voice hoarse. His gaze never left her, and his tone softened as he spoke again, "Kuch nahi hoga, Hooriya. Woh ab tumhare paas nahi aayega."

Azlaan looked at Asfandyar, who gave a slight nod. They understood—Ayaan had done what he needed to do. But the danger wasn't entirely over. Asfandyar's voice was quieter this time as he spoke, his gaze sharp. "Ayaan ka gussa bilkul sahi tha, lekin hum sab ko ab thoda thanda hona hoga. pata nahi jaahil kahin koi tamasha na khara kar de."

Ayaan didn't respond to them. He was too focused on Hooriya, who had finally begun to calm down, though the tremors still ran through her.

"Chalo" Azlaan said to Asfandyar quietly, taking a step back. Asfandyar followed him, knowing that Ayaan needed this space with Hooriya.

The garden fell into silence once everyone had left. The chaos was momentarily forgotten, but the air still felt thick with the aftermath of what had just transpired. Fairoz, despite the blood on his face and the humiliation he had just suffered, managed to slip away unnoticed. No one realized that he had already made his exit, too caught up in their own thoughts and the lingering confusion of the moment.

It wasn't until Fairoz was out of the gate that he pulled out his phone and dialed his parents. His voice was low, almost trembling with rage as he spoke, barely containing his fury.

"ammi sbh chor ky bahir aye Abhi isi waqt," he snapped, before cutting the call abruptly. His parents, confused by the sudden urgency, made their way outside, unaware of the storm that was about to unfold.

Inside, Ayaan looked at Hooriya, who was still glued to him. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying, but she was trying her best to hold herself together. Ayaan stepped forward, his hand gently lifting her chin as he wiped the last traces of tears from her face with the tissues he had pulled from his pocket.

"Hooriya...yaan ki jaan" he murmured softly, though his voice was still laced with anger. "Jaao apne kamre mein. pareshan nahi hona hmm." his lips grazing the top of her head lightly.

Hooriya nodded silently, her eyes not meeting his, but she didn't argue. She turned away slowly, still in a daze, and headed towards the stairs. She had no energy left to fight, to protest, or even to ask questions. She just wanted to escape—away from Fairoz, away from everyone. Away from the chaos.

Once she was out of sight, Ayaan's face hardened. He let out a slow breath, his jaw tight.

His gaze flicked toward the direction Fairoz had disappeared, and a sinister grin spread slowly across his face. It wasn't the kind of smile a man gave in jest, but the kind that spoke of dark intentions—cold, calculating, and dangerous. The slight curve of his lips might have seemed almost like amusement to an outsider, but to anyone who knew Ayaan, it was a warning. A warning that the storm was coming.

Ayaan wasn't a man who was easily provoked, but there was something about Fairoz's audacity—his shamelessness—that ignited something darker within him. His Hooriya. No one dared to look at her the way Fairoz had, let alone make her uncomfortable with his twisted words. She was everything to him—more than just a girl, more than just a person. She was his, in ways no one could understand.

His obsession with her wasn't something born out of fleeting attraction or infatuation. No, this was deeper—an all-consuming need. Hooriya had become the center of his world, the air he breathed, the fire that kept him alive. Every beat of his heart belonged to her, every thought consumed by her smile, her laughter, her presence. And in return, he would protect her from anyone and anything. Fairoz's actions had been a violation, a threat that Ayaan couldn't allow to go unpunished.

The grin on his face darkened, his eyes now shadowed with a cold fury. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides, the image of Fairoz's smug face flickering in his mind like a broken record. How dare he even think of laying his hands on her? How dare he speak to her, look at her, with that disgusting tone in his voice as if she were just another object to be admired?

Hooriya was his—his life, his soul, his very reason for existing. The thought of another man even daring to touch her or think about her in ways Ayaan had imagined for himself made his blood boil. No, this wouldn't stand. He wasn't going to let anyone take what was his. Fairoz would regret every moment of this. Ayaan would make sure of it.

He could already feel it—the weight of vengeance settling in his chest. A slow, sinister fire burned deep inside him. No one, no one would touch Hooriya. Not with impunity. Not with the arrogance that Fairoz had shown tonight. Ayaan was no stranger to darkness. He'd lived with it, thrived on it. And now, it was time for him to show Fairoz the price of his disrespect.

Ayaan's eyes narrowed, a spark of danger flickering within them as he mentally prepared for what was coming next. Fairoz had unleashed something that would be hard for him to escape. And when Ayaan was done, he wouldn't just make sure that Fairoz never dared to look at Hooriya again—he would make him feel every ounce of his torment. Every last drop of the rage that had built up in him over the years, all the dark, possessive love he had for her, would come crashing down on him. Slowly. Painfully. And with a vengeance that would make Fairoz wish he had never crossed paths with her.

--------

As Ayaan entered the house, he couldn't help but let out a long, controlled breath. The weight of the events outside had left a tight coil in his chest, but he knew this was home, and here, he had the space to breathe. Azlaan, still following behind, looked more tense than Ayaan had seen him in a while. There was something in the air tonight—an electric charge that neither of them could shake off.

They walked into the grand foyer of the house. Hazel and Jalal's home had always felt like a place of refuge for Azlaan, a second home where he was loved like a son. Ayaan had grown up here with his family, but somehow, it was different when Azlaan stayed. There was always warmth in the way Hazel and Jalal treated him—like they had adopted him long ago, when he'd been little more than a lost soul.

"You know they'll be happy to have you here for a few days," Ayaan said, breaking the silence between them. His tone was casual, but there was a sense of quiet finality in it. "You should stay, Azlaan. They've missed you."

Azlaan hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn't thrilled about being here—his thoughts were too tangled up with what had happened earlier and what was still weighing on him—but he couldn't argue with Ayaan. The man was right. It would make Hazal and Jalal happy, and that mattered. They had done so much for him, taken him in when things had been difficult, and treated him as one of their own.

"Fine," Azlaan said reluctantly, giving a slight nod. "For them."

Ayaan smiled faintly, but there was little warmth in it. He could see the hesitation in Azlaan's eyes, but he didn't press. "Good. I'll show you to your room."

The two of them made their way through the house, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath them. As they passed down the long corridor, Ayaan veered off to the right, heading towards the end of the floor, where his room was located. It was the most private place in the house—away from everything. It was far from the main rooms, tucked away where Ayaan could be alone with his thoughts when needed. The thought of being isolated didn't bother him. It was how he preferred it, especially after the storm he'd weathered with Hooriya's incident today.

Azlaan, however, wasn't headed in that direction. He turned left, towards the rooms that were always his whenever he stayed here—one that was adjacent to Yashfa's room. It was always the same—his space close to her, where he could hear the light rustling of movement from her side of the wall.

As he passed by Yashfa's door, which was slightly ajar, his feet automatically slowed. His eyes locked onto the crack, where the faintest light spilled out. His breath caught in his throat, his heart starting to race again. He couldn't help but be drawn to it, the room she occupied, the room that was almost a part of his own in some strange, twisted way.

Azlaan's gaze flickered to the door, and for a moment, everything else in the house—the grand foyer, the distant voices of Hazal and Jalal speaking in the living room—faded away. His thoughts were suddenly clouded with jealousy, thick and suffocating, as he remembered everything he had seen earlier—the way Fairoz's brother had looked at Yashfa with that pathetic smirk on his face. The way Yashfa had responded to him, her sweet voice, her radiant smile... His chest tightened at the thought of it, the memory of how she'd looked at that man as if she had no idea the damage it did to him. The way she had worn that simple dress, the one that accentuated every curve of her figure, making her look like something carved from moonlight.

It made him sick.

His mind raced with the images of Fairoz's brother, the way he had tried to get close to her, his words that seemed so friendly—too friendly—and how she had listened, with those wide eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts. Azlaan's fists clenched at his sides, a sharp pang of possessiveness running through him. He hated that man. He hated how he looked at her like she was a prize to be claimed, something to be touched and owned.

He had wanted to crush him then and there, to walk over and knock that look off his face, to remind him who she truly belonged to.

Azlaan shook his head, trying to fight back the fury that was building inside him. His mind, however, seemed to have a mind of its own. His feet carried him closer to Yashfa's room, drawn like a magnet, before he could even process the decision.

He stopped just outside her door. The sound of running water came from within the bathroom. He could feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest, the nerves in his body alight with anticipation. His gaze lingered on the room for a moment longer before he pushed the door open ever so slightly.

His mind was a haze of thoughts. The image of Fairoz's brother still burned in his mind. But as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of Yashfa's room—lavender and roses—hit him. The soft glow from the lamp beside her bed cast a warm light across the room, making everything feel too intimate, too personal. The curtains swayed lightly in the breeze coming through the slightly cracked window. The room felt alive with her presence, even though she wasn't there.

Azlaan slowly moved towards her bed, his fingers trailing lightly over the quilt. His eyes scanned the familiar surroundings—the books on the shelf, the framed photos of her childhood that always made him smile when he stayed here. But tonight, everything felt different. Tonight, everything felt... off.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his thoughts tangled in the mess of his emotions. His fingers brushed against the pillow that lay untouched, the soft fabric still warm from the last time she had laid her head there. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart, but it was no use.

His mind was filled with images of her with Fairoz's brother. He couldn't stop thinking about her. How could he? She had always been his... at least, that's how it felt in his heart. And yet, seeing her with someone else... it hurt.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling as the sound of running water continued in the background. His thoughts drifted, consumed by the question that had been tormenting him all evening—Why had she smiled at him like that? Why hadn't she just looked away?

The door creaked behind him, and Azlaan's heart skipped a beat. He knew who it was without turning around.

There she was, just out of the shower, still in a towel, her hair damp and falling in soft waves around her shoulders. The sight of her—her bare skin, her delicate frame—sent an unexpected surge of heat through Azlaan's veins, and a surge of possessiveness that made his blood run cold.

His heart rate quickened, and all he could think about was how that man, Fairoz's brother, had looked at her. How easily she had smiled at him. His jealousy burned brighter than before, a dark, suffocating fire that clouded his mind.

Yashfa's breath hitched when she saw him sitting on her bed, his intense gaze locked onto her, his expression unreadable but filled with something fierce. The moment stretched on in heavy silence as she quickly wrapped the towel more securely around herself, not sure what to do with the sudden rush of emotions she felt at his gaze.

Azlaan moved forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something in the way he was looking at her, something dangerous that made her nervous. She instinctively took a step back, her pulse racing.

"konsi meethy batain ho rah thin aaj, mujhy bhi to pata chale ?" Azlaan's voice was low, sharp, and his words came out like an accusation. His tone wasn't angry, but it carried a weight that made Yashfa's stomach churn. She wasn't sure why, but the way he asked felt more like a demand than a question.

Yashfa blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. "konsi baatein ?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, though she knew exactly who he was talking about. Fairoz's brother, the man who had been too interested in her.

"wo kutta, don't try and fool me yashfi" Azlaan repeated, his gaze never leaving her face. His eyes were cold, but there was a storm brewing behind them that made Yashfa's heart race even faster.

Yashfa swallowed, the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. She didn't want to make this worse, didn't want to provoke him, but the intensity of his gaze was hard to ignore. There was something in the way he was staring at her, as though she had done something wrong, as if she were the one who had overstepped.

"kuch bhi nahi ," she said quickly, almost too quickly, but Azlaan didn't seem to buy it. His eyes narrowed.

"Nothing?" he repeated with a slight laugh that didn't sound amused at all. "You think I'm blind, Yashfa? I saw the way you were looking at him. You think I didn't see it? The way you smiled at him..."

Her heart stuttered. She didn't know what to say, how to explain. She hadn't meant to make Azlaan feel this way, but she could tell from his clenched fists, from the way his body tensed, that her words weren't reaching him.

"I wasn't smiling at him like that," she said, her voice trembling. "aisa kuch nahi hai."

The only man that resided in her heart was the one standing in front of her.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, like he was trying to control something inside of himself, something dangerous that was just waiting to be unleashed. The air between them felt heavy, charged with tension, and Yashfa couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

Azlaan took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "It doesn't matter, does it?" His voice was dangerously quiet. "Because you don't belong to him. tum to meri ho." His words hung in the air like a threat, and Yashfa couldn't help the chill that ran down her spine.

before she could say anything he was invading her space and gripping her waist in a tight grip.

Azlaan's lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was fierce, driven by the emotions that had been building up between them for so long. It wasn't gentle; it was hungry, desperate. He kissed her as if he were claiming her, marking her as his, in a way that made her heart pound in her chest.

Yashfa froze at first, taken off guard, but then her body responded instinctively. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. She could feel his heart beating as fast as hers, the desperation in his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Azlaan broke the kiss only for a moment, his breath ragged. "Kuch samjhi tum?"

Yashfa's hand gripped his collar in her little fists as he nibbled again on her lips.
one of his hands drifting from her cheek to neck and then gradually skimming past the swell of her breasts.

Yashfa's mouth couldn't contain the gasp that escaped it.

His mouth quirked up into a smirk, his innocent little girl.

His fingers going to her exposed legs and tracing the surface lightly, with a feathery touch. Goosebumps covered yashfa's body.

He gripped her chin in his hands and then gripped her throat with possessive authority that made yashfa's legs weak and heat plunge in her core.
having all her attention on his face, he then slowly pressed his abdomen to the warmest part her body possessed and instantly closed his eyes at the feeling.

God yes, this was heaven.

Yashfa's body quivered at feeling of his desire and little whimpers escaped her mouth when he started slowly and sensually moving against her.

His head now tucked in the nape of neck.

Yashfa's head fell backwards while she breathed heavily.

"jump" his voice commanded, and she did, wrapping her legs around him, even though she couldn't wrap herself completely due to his size , and then put her arms around his big shoulders.

her back rested on the wall as he kissed her hungrily again, his hands gripping her locks, his body dominating her little one.

his pants tight with his obvious arousal.

Yashfa felt it throb, it's presence sensed by her core in a way she could't even describe .

what was happening to her body, it was all in his control.

"can't hold back baby" Azlaan murmered before pressing his front to the very essence of her core.

His growl of pleasure and the pressure of his abdomen on her clit made her body quiver with intensity as whimpers of pleasure rocked out of her pretty pink lips.

"kis ky ho?" he growled near her ear as he started to nibble on her earlobe.

When he heard no response he thrusted with a little more force and she involuntary let out a cry of surprise.

Those trembling legs, her shortened breath and those tiny high pitched moans were music to his ears.
Her nails dug his back with all of her force.

He bit her neck and got a response: " a-apki hun zaan, sirf aapki."
"That's right baby, aren't you such a good learner" her caressed her cheek with him thumb all the while humping her with a force that made him groan right in her ear.

as they reached the height of their ecstasy Yashfa collapsed on to his shoulder with a trembling body and legs that felt like she had run a marathon.

Azlaan chucked to himself as gazed at her perfect face.

This woman was his everything and he was going to prove it her.

he carefully brought her to the bed and laid her on it, her eyes had already dropped due to tiredness.

His little baby girl

he covered her body with the duvet and then carefully removed her towel.

he kissed her lips one more time and then left to take care of his clothes.

(lmao iykyk)

_______________

Hello!

Kesa laga chapter?

I'm trying to improve at smut lmao cuz I feel like if written with the right words it really does explain the beautiful bond that binds human beings.

Let me know if I should write more spicy scenes!!

I hope you enjoyed reading the chapter as much as I did while writing it! <3

xoxoxo

Laiba-