Author's Note: Thank you for all the love for the last chapter, I am glad so many of you enjoyed it! Onto the next one! I find myself being rather indulgent with this fic - if it was any other fic, I'd have wrapped it up by now, like I did with MM. But with UM, I feel like I want to write cute little moments and things I wish I had seen on screen - like the two of them just sitting together and talking, going on walks, swimming, eating, cuddling. It just brings my heart so much joy, so I hope it does for you too! 

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Murtasim was startled awake by Meerab's frantic shaking.

His eyes flew open, confusion and panic surging through him as he registered the sight of her distressed face. The room was dimly lit by the lamp on her night-table, casting a soft glow on her tear-streaked cheeks.

His heart plummeted at the sight of the tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong?!" he asked, his voice laced with urgency as he sat up.

His hands immediately cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears with a tenderness that belied his alarm. "Why are you crying, meri jaan?"

She sniffled, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She looked absolutely adorable in his oversized brown kurta, her hair a little messy, and her nose red from her tears.

Her lips quivered as she tried to speak. "I want dessert," she said, her voice trembling.

He sighed, relief flooding through him as his heart resumed its normal rhythm. "Why would you cry about that?" he asked, his voice softening with affection.

Her tears flowed harder, spilling over her cheeks in a torrent. "I am sorry for scaring you," she sobbed, her voice breaking with guilt.

"Shhhh, it's okay," he muttered, his heart aching at the sight of her distress. He wiped her tears gently with his thumbs, his touch light and comforting. "Don't cry, Meerab."

"I tried not to wake you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she placed her hand on her swollen belly, "but she wants mango pickle ice cream." Her voice broke slightly, her distress evident in every word.

He blinked, trying to process what she said. "She wants what?"

"Ice cream...with mango pickle," Meerab said as if it was completely normal.

He nodded, realizing questioning her cravings would get him nowhere. "We have ice cream in the fridge and mango pickle in—" he stopped short when she shook her head.

"We only have cookie dough ice cream," she muttered—it had been her favorite up until last week. "I want plain vanilla ice cream with mango pickle."

Of course she did.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Do you want to come with me?"

She shook her head. "I need to pee every five minutes," she reminded him.

He nodded, understanding that finding a place open at this hour and dealing with constant bathroom breaks wasn't a good idea.

Her lip quivered, and she sniffled again.

"I am sorry for troubling you," she said, her voice small.

He shook his head, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cute little nose. "Meri biwi aur meri choti shehzadi ke liye kuch bhi," he muttered.

She smiled, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," she said softly as she pulled away, her eyes filled love.

She looked absolutely adorable, her sleepy eyes adding to her charm, and the sight tugged at his heart.

"Drive safe," she told him, her voice still tinged with sleep, a soft yawn escaping her lips.

"Of course, meri jaan. Keep your phone on," he replied.

She nodded, yawning again. "Wear a shirt," she said, her eyes flickering over his bare chest.

He snickered, "Nahi."

She glared playfully, and he couldn't help but lean over the bed, cupping her face and pecking her lips.

"You can't show my husband to other women," she muttered against his lips as he pulled away slightly.

He couldn't help but kiss her again. "Of course I'll wear a shirt," he assured her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We can't have you ending up in jail for murdering women for looking."

"Exactly!" She grinned, leaning in and placing a kiss on his chest right above where his heart beat. He loved it when she did that. She had started doing it in place of saying "I love you" when she couldn't utter the words, but now she said the words and still randomly placed a kiss there, like she was kissing his heart.

"I love you too," he said softly as she moved back, his voice filled with emotion.

Her grin widened, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her stomach. "Take care of your ammi, I'll be right back," he said to their unborn child, his hand gently caressing her belly before grabbing his wallet and phone.

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At 1 AM, not much was open, but Murtasim was determined to find what Meerab craved. He drove around for forty minutes, the cool night air whipping through the open windows of the car. The city was eerily quiet, the streets mostly deserted save for a few late-night wanderers. His two security guards tailed him in the jeep, their presence a comforting yet feeling rather unneeded now that the Maliks were no longer a threat.

It took him forty minutes to find a store with its lights still on, and one that sold ice-cream. He quickly found a tub of vanilla ice cream, securing it triumphantly in one hand. The shopkeeper had laughed as soon as he had seen Murtasim and asked if he had a pregnant wife waiting for the ice-cream – as if there was no other reason for frantically looking for ice-cream at 1am.

Pulling back into the driveway, Murtasim noticed the house was silent. The stillness was almost tangible, the night embracing the home in a gentle peaceful hush. He carefully got out of the car, the ice cream in hand, and made his way inside.

He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, three spoons, and the small jar of mango pickle that Meerab loved. As he walked back to their room, he felt a surge of tenderness, knowing how happy this would make her.

Entering their room, he wasn't surprised to find her asleep since she hadn't replied to his message. If it were anyone else, he might have been annoyed at being sent on a wild goose chase only for her to fall asleep, but with Meerab, he could only smile. She looked so peaceful.

He placed the ice-cream and all the other items on her bedside table before sitting on the stool next to the bed. She had kicked the sheet off her, the brown kurta riding up her thighs, barely covering her. Her hand rested protectively on her stomach as she slept on her side, her breathing slow and steady.

Murtasim let his fingers find her hair, playing with the strands, his thumb caressing her cheek. He loved how she hummed and smiled in her sleep. It took a couple of kisses against her cute little nose and cheeks before her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him.

"You're back," she said sleepily, her voice soft.

"I got you ice cream and mango pickle," he replied, chuckling at how wide her eyes opened in delight.

"Help me sit up!" she said, and he did, helping her adjust herself against the headboard before handing her the bowl and spoon. She wiggled happily, her excitement infectious.

He opened the ice cream container and scooped some into her bowl, loving the way she beamed at him. He handed her the mango pickle, watching – slightly disgusted – as she scooped it into her ice cream. It wasn't even the pieces but the oily masala. She mixed it in and then took a bite, humming like it was the best thing in the world.

"Do you want to try?" she asked, holding a spoon up to his mouth.

He shook his head. "I am okay with normal ice-cream," he teased.

"It's good!" she whined.

"I am sure," he said, still not convinced.

She rolled her eyes and took another bite, "You're missing out," she said, her voice playful.

"I am sure I am not," Murtasim replied as he crawled onto the bed, laying down and wrapping his arms around her stomach, his face level with her bump. He pressed a kiss to her belly, feeling the warmth of her skin through the soft fabric.

He chuckled as he felt a gentle kick. "She's awake," he grinned, his eyes lighting up with joy.

"Of course she is, she wanted the ice cream," Meerab said, her voice filled with affection as she placed a hand on her belly.

"I am sorry about the weird combination, meri choti shehzadi," he whispered to her stomach, his voice tender.

Meerab whacked him lightly, causing him to sigh and look up at her.

She was glaring at him, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. "It tastes good," she insisted.

"You have to stop hitting me when she comes out of here, or she'll think it's okay to hit people," he said pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes again, a small smile playing on her lips. "Stop being annoying then."

"I drove around to find you ice cream!" he pouted, his voice filled with mock indignation.

"You impregnated me!" she shot back, her eyes narrowing.

"You were a very willing participant," he teased, winking at her.

She whacked him again, and he feigned a hurt expression.

"Your ammi keeps hitting me," he whined to her stomach, feeling another little kick in response.

"She's hitting you too," Meerab said with a smirk.

"No, that's her saying she loves me and she's on my side," he grinned up at her, before placing another kiss on her stomach.

Meerab rolled her eyes once more. "We'll see," she said, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Murtasim pushed her kurta up, uncovering her legs, and revealing more of her belly. "What are you doing?" she whined trying to pull it down over her underwear.

"It's my kurta you're wearing, so I can move it," he teased, his hands gently caressing her skin.

"I'll take it off!" she warned, her eyes narrowing.

"Even better, you naked in bed," he grinned up at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She muttered something under her breath, making him chuckle as he nuzzled her stomach, pressing a kiss to her bare skin. He was eagerly waiting for the day when they could see a tiny hand or foot pressing against her belly, just like he had seen in videos – and then shortly after she'd be here with them.

He looked up when he heard the spoon scraping against the bowl. "Want more?" he asked, his voice soft.

She shook her head. "I need to brush my teeth now," she replied, a small pout forming on her lips.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and got up, helping her out of bed and towards the bathroom.

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March rolled around with two things—the first was Ramadan.

For the first time in her adult life, Meerab wasn't fasting due to her pregnancy, but she felt deeply connected to the rhythm of the sacred month. Ramadan had always been one of her favorite times of the year, not just for the religious significance, but for the structure and peace it brought into her life.

In the pre-dawn hours, when the world was still cloaked in darkness, the family would gather for sehri. She loved those quiet moments, the soft whispers of conversation, and the gentle clatter of plates as they shared their meal in the early hours before the world woke up. There was something magical about those moments, a sense of unity and tranquility that enveloped her heart.

As the day unfolded, the house slipped into a serene routine. The morning was for rest and reflection, the air filled with the soft hum of recited prayers and the turning pages of the Quran. Even the usual hustle and bustle seemed to slow down, everyone moving with a calm deliberation that she found incredibly soothing. The afternoon brought a renewed energy as preparations for iftar began.

Her meals and snacks would appear like clockwork throughout the day, regardless of what was happening in the house. Sometimes they were brought to her by her husband, other times by Maa Begum, Maryam, or her father – all of them making sure that she and her baby was well-fed. She felt immensely loved and cared for.

Iftar was sometimes a private affair, just the five of them—six if she counted the growing baby inside her—around the table. Murtasim, Maa Begum, Maryam, and her father would break their fast together. These moments were intimate, filled with laughter and the kind of small, cherished conversations that she had never expected would be a part of her life during her first few months at the Khan Haveli.

On other days, iftar was a social event.

Sometimes they joined the villagers, a lavish feast prepared at the village haveli for everyone to enjoy.

Other times, iftar was hosted in their home, welcoming guests just before sunset. The guests sometimes included her parents from Karachi, her two cousins, and some friends. The house would come alive with chatter and laughter, the warmth of family and friends creating an atmosphere of joy and camaraderie.

Other times, they attended iftar at the homes of friends and family.

The socializing was a by-product of the second thing that had rolled around—Maa Begum's insistence that they start looking for someone for Maryam to marry, considering she was finishing her Bachelors in May.

The events sometimes felt like a parade of eligible families and suitors, although Maa Begum seemed to have her heart set on Naurez. Maryam, however, did not seem to have her heart set on him, much to her mother's dismay.

Meerab couldn't help but smile at the thought of Maryam's resistance – things were changing in the Khan Household, slowly but surely. Her sister-in-law seemed to have grown more confident over the months, as if finding a place of her own in the world with her brother's support and without the presence of a shadow in Haya.

"I can hear you thinking, meri jaan," Murtasim murmured into Meerab's ear, his voice a soft rumble that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

They were both sitting on the sofa, she nestled between his legs which lay along the length of the couch, her back against his chest, his back against the arm of the sofa, his hands gently resting on her belly. The living room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over them. It was past midnight, and despite her efforts, she hadn't been able to fall asleep, and he insisted on staying up with her and watching movies – but he only seemed to distract her with kisses.

"Normal people think, Murtasim," she teased, giggling as he pressed a tender kiss to her ear, his breath warm and comforting.

He sighed contentedly, his hand rubbing her belly in slow, soothing circles.

She held up a chip to his mouth, smiling as he took it. She enjoyed feeding him these days, finding herself constantly guilty about eating all day while he didn't due to fasting.

Murtasim let out a little happy sigh, sliding his hand under her belly again, lifting it slightly to take the pressure off. It had become her new favorite thing when he did this, relieving the strain on her back. The sensation was heavenly.

"You should just follow me around and do this all day," she muttered, just as she felt a kick.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back. "I don't think she likes being moved," he replied, his voice filled with amusement.

Their daughter seemed to almost agree with another strong kick, making them both laugh.

"She can deal with it," Meerab muttered, rubbing her stomach lovingly.

Murtasim hummed and nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her slightly as he played his favorite game with their daughter—touching random parts of her stomach to see if he felt movement. Meerab fed him chip after chip, smiling at the simple joy of just sitting with him like this. It felt like a warm, comforting blanket that wrapped around them both.

"Murtasim," she hummed softly, enjoying the way his name felt on her lips.

"Ji, Mrs. Khan," he whispered into her ear, his tone playful yet loving.

"Before I forget, I have to tell you something," she said, remembering the matter she had intended to discuss with him. He had arrived home just before iftar from the village, and she had forgotten to tell him in her excitement to see him.

"What is it?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.

"I was looking over the books for all the properties and estates—"

"Why were you working?" he interrupted, his concern deepening as he rested his chin more firmly on her shoulder. "Your only job is to relax and grow our child."

She rolled her eyes, but there was affection in her tone. "I don't want to burden my husband, and I need to make sure things are in order before she arrives," she said, patting her stomach.

He sighed, his breath a gentle caress against her skin, and nodded slightly, understanding her need to contribute.

"I found something amiss. Things aren't adding up for one of the estates, and it's a huge discrepancy," she muttered, the worry creeping back into her voice.

"The one under Mohsin Ijaz?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious, the playful mood shifting to one of focused concern.

She turned her face so she could see him, nodding, wondering how he knew.

"I suspected something," he sighed, his jaw tightening slightly. "It's probably him pocketing money. I'll look into it now that I have proof. Thank you, meri jaan."

She smiled softly, leaning back into his embrace. "I love how I just tell you a problem and you take care of it," she whispered.

He snickered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "That's my job," he said, his tone filled with affection.

She nodded, watching her husband with a soft smile.

He looked a little tired, the day's weariness evident in the slight droop of his shoulders. She turned a bit more, so she could cup his face, her thumb tracing the rugged line of his beard over his jaw. The simple act of touching him, of feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingers, filled her with joy – especially when he smiled at her the way he did.

"Want to go swimming?" she asked, her voice gentle. She knew he quite enjoyed it – the water was refreshing and a good way to relax.

He arched his eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes, almost as if saying, "At this time?"

"My back hurts a little, the water helps," she explained. It did help; it elevated the pressure from the extra weight she was carrying. The buoyancy made her feel light, almost as if she wasn't carrying half of her weight around. But more than anything, she wanted him to do something he enjoyed for once.

"Want me to massage your back?" he asked, his concern for her evident in his tone.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Swimming should help."

"Everyone should be gone, but I'll make sure they're not around the pool," he said.

She giggled, the sound light and filled with affection. "Why? So I can pull that red swimsuit out?" she teased. The swimwear she wore at the haveli was very modest, more like a dress with sleeves that went to her knees than an actual swimsuit.

He groaned, muttering under his breath about another house and no staff. His grumbling was endearing, a familiar refrain she had come to love.

-------------------------------------------

The night air was warm and still, the only sound the gentle ripple of water in the Khan family's private pool. The moon cast a serene glow over the space, its light reflecting off the water's surface and casting dancing shadows on the surrounding walls.

Meerab stood at the edge, her gaze fixed on Murtasim as he slid into the pool.

He disappeared beneath the surface, re-emerging with water cascading off his wet, shirtless body, highlighting the sculpted muscles of his chest and shoulders. The moonlight glistened off his skin, making him look effortlessly handsome. She couldn't help but bite her lip as she watched him, wishing it was a truly private pool, not one visible from many windows and terraces of the house.

Murtasim turned, his face breaking into a boyish grin as he saw her watching him. She loved how the fatigue seemed to melt away from him in the water, and she almost patted herself on the back for the suggestion.

"I have tested the water, it's perfect for you and meri choti shehzadi," he called.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but find his playfulness endearing.

He held out his hand to help her in. She held onto his hand and the railing, carefully stepping down the stairs—the ones he had textured with silicone after they were told swimming was good exercise for her—to ensure she didn't slip getting in and out.

There was overprotective, and then there was Murtasim.

As she stepped into the pool, Meerab felt the cool water embrace her, instantly alleviating the weight of her pregnancy. She sighed contentedly, her body floating effortlessly, the water making her feel light and free.

Murtasim wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I really miss those tiny swimsuits you used to wear in South Africa," he sighed, sounding rather serious.

Meerab laughed, splashing water at him playfully. "They wouldn't fit me now, anyway," she retorted, settling into the water. "Besides, I don't want to give your mother a heart attack."

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement before pressing a gentle kiss to her nose. The simple, tender gesture made her heart swell.

They floated together for a moment, the water lapping gently around them. Meerab closed her eyes, savoring the coolness and the feeling of lightness. Every part of her felt at peace.

Murtasim moved and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands resting on her stomach.

"Hey," she protested, her voice tinged with laughter, "leave me alone, let me swim."

"Nope," he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

She twisted slightly, trying to shake him off, but his hold was firm and tender. "You're impossible," she said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile.

He chuckled, his breath warm against her ear. "You love it."

She did. She loved every bit of his teasing, his tenderness, his unwavering love.

Meerab sighed in mock exasperation but leaned back against him, feeling his heartbeat against her back. The rhythmic thumping was comforting. "Alright, fine. But no funny business." They were only going to swim, she reminded herself.

"Define funny business," Murtasim said, his tone filled with mischief.

She laughed, turning her head to give him a playful glare. "You know exactly what I mean."

He grinned and tightened his hold, his hands gently caressing her belly. "Okay, okay. No funny business. Just this."

He kissed her neck, trailing soft kisses up to her ear.

Meerab felt a shiver of pleasure run through her. The sensation was a delightful mix of warmth and coolness, his breath hot against her skin contrasting with the cool water enveloping them.

"We were supposed to swim!" she reminded him, her voice light with laughter. "Don't get my hair wet!" she added, she had piled her hair atop her head, carefully arranging it to stay dry.

He sighed dramatically, making her giggle, and then leaned back while still holding her, kicking his feet and swimming backward, pulling her with him. The gentle motion of the water as they moved made her laugh, a sound that echoed in the stillness of the night.

"You know I swim just fine by myself when you're not home," she teased. Her personal trainer – who religiously listened to Dua more than she did Meerab – made her swim occasionally between yoga, squatting, and a million other exercises.

"I know, but I don't want to let you go," he said as he turned them, swimming the other way. Though it wasn't exactly swimming, it felt more like floating in each other's embrace, the water supporting them both.

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Let me go," she said, moving her elbow back and elbowing him lightly. He let out a little "oof" and stopped, loosening his arms enough for her to turn around to face him.

"Hi," he grinned, and her heart warmed instantly at his smile. It was the same smile that had made her heart flutter and her stomach fill with butterflies months ago when things had been different between them.

He seemed to know it too.

Unable to resist, she used her hand to splash some water on him, her giggles loud as he sighed and wiped his face.

She cupped his face, feeling the texture of his wet beard, rough yet familiar against her fingers. The water droplets clung to his skin, glistening under the moonlight, and raced down his sharp, chiseled cheeks. His face really was a work of art, each feature meticulously crafted.

Her fingers traced the strong lines of his thick, defined eyebrows, which framed his intense, soulful eyes. Those eyes, dark and deep, held a world of emotions, drawing her in every time she looked into them. They were the kind of eyes that could convey a thousand words without speaking, filled with love, mischief, and a quiet strength that made her feel safe.

She moved her fingers down to his straight, prominent nose, a feature that added to his strikingly handsome profile. It gave him a look of rugged masculinity, one that was softened by the tenderness in his gaze when he looked at her.

Her fingers lingered on his lips, full and inviting. They were slightly parted, a hint of a smile playing at the corners. Those lips had kissed her countless times, each kiss a promise, a declaration of his love. She remembered how they felt against her skin, how they could be both soft and demanding, leaving her breathless every time.

As she traced his lips, he leaned forward slightly, capturing her finger between his teeth in a playful bite. "Murtasim!" she squealed, her voice filled with surprise and laughter.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that reverberated through her. She pulled her finger out of his mouth, her own laughter mingling with his. His insufferable playfulness, his ability to make her laugh even in the simplest moments, was one of the many things she adored about him.

"You're insufferable," she said, her voice filled with affection.

"Your eyes say something else, meri jaan," he replied.

She was about to say something, but then he disappeared, pulling himself under the water in front of her. For a moment she thought he'd pull her under too, but she felt him press a kiss against her stomach before he popped back up, pushing his wet hair away from his face.

"I thought I'd say hi to her too," he smiled.

But she found herself a little distracted.

The water glistened off his muscular frame, accentuating every chiseled line of his body. His shirtless torso was a masterpiece, each muscle defined and taut, glistening under the soft light that danced across the water's surface.

She watched as droplets of water trailed down his broad shoulders and arms, and down his chest, following the contours of his defined pecs. Each drop was a tantalizing journey that made her pulse quicken. The teasing grin on his face gave way to a knowing look, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine.

His lips, slightly parted as he breathed heavily, looked incredibly inviting, and she suddenly found herself longing to feel them against her own. She could feel her body reacting to the sight, a warmth spreading through her as desire pooled low in her belly.

Murtasim groaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "You really need to stop looking at me like that," he said, his voice rough with barely restrained need, "or I will forget where we are."

Even as he spoke, his arms were wrapping around her, pulling her as close as he could with her pregnant belly between them. His thumbs caressed her skin over her swimming dress, the touch sending sparks of electricity through her body.

Meerab smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And what's wrong with that?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She let her hands rest on his bare chest, loving the way his muscles moved under her fingers. She loved the heat of his skin and the steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. She looked up at his lips, so close, so inviting.

He groaned again, his eyes darkening with desire. "I wanted to kiss you so bad last time we were in this pool," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "But we were interrupted."

She remembered Maryam's giggles when they had fallen into the pool while he was chasing her, the picture of him dressed like a fairy in her hands. The memory made her smile, but the present moment made her heart race.

"Everyone is asleep now," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with a daring edge.

His resolve snapped.

He pulled her even closer, their bodies pressed together. With a low growl, he pressed his mouth firmly against hers. His lips moved against hers with a hungry urgency, their softness contrasting with the intensity of the kiss.

She responded eagerly, her hands moving up to tangle in his wet hair. Her lips parted, welcoming him, and his tongue slipped inside, exploring her mouth with a desperate need. Their tongues met, a tangle of warmth and wetness, sliding against each other.

Her fingers threaded through his damp hair tighter, pulling him closer.

"Careful," he whispered against her lips, nipping her bottom lip as he pulled away a little, his hands on her back moving around to her stomach. She always felt like her stomach was in the way when she wanted to get closer to him.

"Kiss me," she begged against his lips as her eyes opened to find him looking at her – his eyes dark and filled with desire.

His hands roamed her back, one slipping down to cup her bottom, pulling her gently to him. She could feel his hardness against her, a reminder of the desire coursing through both of them.

He moved in closer again, kissing her, sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding, as if he couldn't get enough. He nibbled on her lower lip, sucking it gently before plunging his tongue back into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She matched his rhythm, her own tongue exploring his mouth, tasting, teasing.

They broke apart, both gasping for air, their eyes locked in an intense gaze. The look of raw desire in Murtasim's eyes mirrored her own, and Meerab whimpered softly, the sound filled with longing and need. She hadn't meant to go there; she just wanted to swim. But now, all she wanted was him.

Murtasim's voice, husky with desire, broke through the charged silence. "What do you want?" he asked, his breath hot against her lips.

Meerab's hand trailed down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his damp skin. Her fingers traced the lines of his abs under the water, watching his face as she did. When she reached his hard cock, she grasped it through his swimming trunks, squeezing firmly.

He let out a sharp, "Fuck, Meerab," his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he absorbed the sensation.

She wanted him inside her.

"Not here," he managed to say, his voice strained with need, as he pulled her towards the edge of the pool.

Meerab followed, letting him help her out of the pool slowly. The cool night air hit her wet skin, but it did nothing to dampen the heat she felt between her legs. As soon as she stepped out the water, the intensity of her arousal increased, the wetness pooling between her legs unmistakable. Her eyes scanned the area, landing on the now dark veranda with the outdoor sofa.

With the lights off and it being close to 2 AM, she knew no one would see them. But a part of her really didn't care at the moment. The throbbing between her legs made her want only one thing – her husband inside her.

She grabbed Murtasim's hand and started walking towards the veranda.

"Meerab, where..." he trailed off but didn't stop her.

She led him with determination, her heart racing with anticipation. As soon as they reached the sofa, she pushed him onto it, not caring that the cushions would get wet.

He groaned at the sudden movement. "Here?" he asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

Meerab nodded, her eyes blazing with intent. "Help me," she said, her voice a breathy command, as she tried to reach under her swimming dress to take off the matching bottoms that looked like underwear.

Murtasim groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he leaned forward to assist her. He placed a kiss on her stomach, the sensation sending shivers down her spine, and rolled the wet fabric down her legs. The bottoms fell to the floor with a splat.

Meerab's heart raced as she felt the cool air against her bare skin. Her body hummed with anticipation and desire, every nerve ending alive and alert. She looked down at Murtasim, his dark eyes filled with an intense heat that made her pulse quicken even more. The sight of him, wet and disheveled, only added to his rugged handsomeness, making him look sexier than ever.

He helped her straddle him, his strong hands guiding her carefully over his thighs, accommodating her pregnant belly. Meerab moved slowly, her knees on either side of his hips, her hands resting on his bare chest to stabilize herself, their bodies aligning perfectly. The warmth of his skin under her palms made her heart race even faster.

As soon as she was settled, she leaned in and kissed him again, hard and desperate. Her lips moved eagerly against his, her tongue plunging into his mouth. She kissed him with a hunger that seemed to take his breath away. Murtasim groaned, meeting her intensity, his hands gripping her hips tightly. The taste of him, the feel of his mouth moving against hers, was intoxicating. His groans vibrated through her, deepening her arousal.

Her hands moved down from his chest, fingers tracing the ridges of his abs before reaching the waistband of his shorts. She pulled them down just enough to free his hard cock. At the same time, he tugged at her dress, pushing it up just enough to give them room.

Meerab grasped his length, feeling the hard, smooth skin under her fingers. She pumped it a few times, watching his face contort with pleasure before positioning his cock at her entrance. She rubbed the tip against her wetness, the sensation making them both groan. The heat and slickness between her legs were almost unbearable, her body aching for him.

Murtasim's hands gripped her hips, steadying her as she slowly sank onto him. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her completely, was everything she had been craving. She moved carefully, the weight of her pregnant belly making her movements deliberate and slow.

She could feel every inch of him inside her, the sensation heightened by the slickness of their skin. Her body, already wet from the pool, seemed to meld with his. She took him in, inch by agonizing inch, her breath catching as he filled her. Every inch was pure bliss, her inner muscles clamping down around him, tight and needy. He groaned beneath her – a sound she loved – one that melded perfectly with her sigh.

As she sank almost fully onto him, they both stilled for a moment, savoring the intense connection.

Meerab cupped his face with both hands, her eyes locking onto his, seeing the raw desire that mirrored her own. She kissed him hard, her lips demanding, her tongue exploring his mouth with a desperate hunger. The taste of him was intoxicating.

He responded with the same urgency, muttering against her lips, "So fucking sexy... my wife."

Her heart swelled at his words. She began to rock her hips, the movement slow and deliberate at first. Every shift brought a wave of pleasure that radiated through her body. Murtasim's hands guided her, his touch reassuring, helping her find the right rhythm.

She leaned back slightly, increasing the pace, riding him just as he had taught her. The memory of his lessons flashed through her mind—the way he had shown her how to move, how to take him deeply, how to ride him. It was harder with her pregnant stomach, but it still felt just as good, if not better.

Meerab forced her eyes to remain open so she could see him. She loved how Murtasim watched her when she rode him, his eyes dark with desire, like he was high on her. His gaze traveled over her body, taking in every curve, every movement, even though the swimming dress covered her.

One of his hands remained to support her back, the other sliding down between her legs. His fingers found her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through her.

"Can you finish like this, or do you need more?" he asked, his voice rough and filled with need.

She knew exactly what he meant—if she needed to be fucked harder, faster. The sensation of his fingers on her clit, combined with the deep thrusts of his cock inside her, would easily push her off the edge. But she still wanted more. She barely recognized herself like this, so consumed by desire.

"More," she gasped out, her voice a desperate plea.

With a low growl, Murtasim adjusted his grip on her hips, sliding his hips down the sofa cushion a bit, anchoring his legs against the floor. He began to thrust up into her, meeting her movements with a force that made her cry out in pleasure. "Murtasimmmmmmmmmmm."

"Shhhhhhhhh, meri jaan, you need to be quiet," he groaned as he thrust up.

She bit her lip to muffle the moan and nodded, her hands clutching his bare shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. The angle sent waves of ecstasy through her, each powerful thrust hitting the perfect spot inside her.

"Touch yourself for me," Murtasim groaned, both of his hands clutching her hips, keeping her safe, giving her pleasure.

A whimper left her but she obeyed, letting her fingers find her clit. She moved them in circles around the sensitive nub, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, driving her higher and higher. The sensation was electrifying, her fingers becoming slick with her arousal.

She leaned back further, one of her hands still gripping his shoulders for support, her head falling back as she lost herself in the sensation. The combination of his hard cock filling her, her fingers teasing her clit, and the little groans he let out was too much.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him. She cried out, the sound muffled as Murtasim moved closer, pressing his mouth against hers, swallowing her cries as he continued thrusting. The intensity of her climax left her breathless, her body shuddering with the force of it.

She felt him throbbing inside her, his own release imminent. With a few more powerful thrusts, Murtasim followed her over the edge, his groan of pleasure vibrating against her lips as he filled her. His cock swelled and pulsed with his release. She could feel every pulse, every spurt, the heat spreading through her core. Her inner walls clamped down around him, milking him, her body instinctively drawing every last drop from him. Her walls fluttered and contracted, the aftershocks of her orgasm prolonging her pleasure.

Her body felt alive, every nerve ending tingling, every sensation amplified. She could feel his cock softening slightly but still deeply embedded within her, the last few throbs sending residual ripples of pleasure through her. His hands, firm yet gentle, held her close, grounding her as they both rode out the final waves of their climax.

His breath was hot against her skin, mingling with her own ragged breaths, their hearts pounding in unison. Murtasim's lips pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her neck.

Meerab looked away from Murtasim's for a moment, her eyes catching sight of their reflection in the dim window behind the sofa. Her eyes widened at the sight – the shadowy figures of their entwined bodies, barely illuminated by the faint light. The image was both erotic and intimate – and for a moment she worried that someone might have still been able to figure out what was happening despite the darkness.

Murtasim chuckled softly, drawing her attention back to him. She looked down to see him watching her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You're thinking about it now?" he teased. "Not when you attacked me?"

Meerab playfully whacked his chest, loving the loud smack that echoed due to his shirt-lessness. He whined dramatically, making her giggle.

She began to move, pulling off of him slowly, hating the sudden emptiness she felt without him inside her. The sensation left her feeling achingly hollow, a stark contrast to the fullness she had just experienced. She could feel herself dripping with their mixed fluids and instinctively closed her legs as he helped her sit beside him for a moment.

Murtasim looked almost funny sitting there in the dark, his softening cock still sticking out of his trunks. She reached over and gently tucked it back in, causing him to snicker. Then she pulled down her own swimming dress, smoothing it out. She nodded, satisfied that it looked like nothing had happened—the only evidence was between her legs.

He pulled her closer, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. The gesture was so tender, so full of love that it made her chest tighten with emotion. He squeezed her tightly as if he didn't know what else to do with all the emotion surging through him. She could only let out a soft, "Stoppppp."

He got up and held his hand out to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," he grinned.

She pouted, playfully whacking him again as she got up. "It's so easy for you," she whined, feeling the mess between her legs—he just finished inside her and could go on like nothing had happened.

He snickered, pulling her close again. "That's why I'm here," he said, his voice full of affection. "To take care of my wife."

Just then, she gasped as she felt a hard kick.

He arched his eyebrow.

"She kicked."

His face lit up, his hand going to her stomach just in time for another strong kick.

He snickered, "She's probably wondering what's going on out here."

Meerab groaned, "I hope not!"

Hand-in-hand, they walked into the house. As they stepped into the hallway, they ran into Maryam, who was holding a cup of steaming herbal tea.

Maryam looked between the two of them, wide-eyed and incredulous. "What were you..." she asked then shook her head, "swimming at this time, seriously?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"Swimming – yes that's it – that's exactly what we were – " Meerab sounded much too panicked but stopped as Murtasim squeezed her hand.

She looked up at Murtasim who was rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Maryam made a disgusted face, her nose wrinkling in exaggerated horror as she looked between them, her eyes on Murtasim's shoulder, Meerab looked over and let out a groan – they were red from how hard she had been holding him. "OUTSIDE?!" She gasped and then shook her head. "Wait, I don't need to know that, let's pretend this is a nightmare!" she exclaimed before rushing off down the hallway.

Murtasim sighed, shaking his head. "At least she didn't see us," he muttered.

"Do you think she'll tell Maa Begum?" Meerab whispered.

He snickered, "You're worried about that now?" he teased.

She pouted, leaning into his arm and biting him, hard, making him let out a scream.

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Author's Note: Tadaaaa! So, what do you think? What was your favourite part?