A/N: Hi! Thank you to everyone for all the warm wishes in the last chapter - I gave birth to a healthy and adorable baby girl who is 21 days old today! I am slowly getting back into things so here's the next chapter of Dhaagey. ------------------------------------

Murtasim turned his room into a makeshift office, rearranging the furniture to create a comfortable workspace. He dragged the blue chaise lounge from its usual spot by his bed and positioned it near the doors that opened up to the yard, which he threw wide open, inviting in the fresh night air. The table, adorned with stacks of papers and a laptop, was pushed closer to the chaise, forming his designated workspace.

Taking a moment to settle in, Murtasim reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette. He had developed a habit of smoking while working, finding that it helped him focus and gather his thoughts. The act of inhaling the smoke and exhaling slowly provided him with a brief respite from the chaos of his mind – now usually filled with thoughts of Meerab - allowing him to delve into his work with a sense of calm and clarity.

With a flick of his lighter, the end of the cigarette glowed, casting a warm orange light. Murtasim took a long drag, savoring the familiar taste and the soothing sensation it brought. For him, smoking was more than just a physical act; it held a certain ritualistic quality that had provided a brief escape from the stresses of his daily life. Yet he had found himself smoking less and less since Meerab's return which had made him feel lighter than he had in years.

As he exhaled a plume of smoke, ensuring that he blew towards the outside of the room, Murtasim glanced at the scattered papers on the table. He had a backlog of pending work that needed his attention. Frequent absences upon Meerab's return, their wedding, and his recent propensity, and allowance of, spending time with his wife at every opportunity had caused the workload to accumulate, creating an ever-growing mountain of tasks that demanded completion even with Meerab's help.

Tonight, however, he was determined to tackle the pending work – mostly because his attempts to sneak into Meerab's room that night had been thwarted. It seemed that now when he had allowed himself to take more liberties with his wife, the world had started to plot to keep them away. With the Shahs returning to Lahore, and Rumi returning to Karachi, the house was quieter than usual, which meant that his mother was not as distracted.

He had almost wanted all of them to stay despite the teasing. They all had a bet going for when his mother would catch him and Meerab in a compromising position and send her off to Lahore. Of all of them, only Armaan was of the belief that they wouldn't get caught...he wondered if the man was just being naïve, even he didn't believe that.

Murtasim took another drag, letting the smoke curl around his fingers, shaking his head and focusing his attention on the task at hand. With determination in his eyes, he delved into reading through the piles of documents that needed his attention and signature.

Just when Murtasim had gotten in the flow, knocking three folders off his pile of work, a series of urgent knocks echoed through his room, catching his attention. Knock-knock. Pause. Knock-knock. Meerab's distinct knock rang in his ears. His brow furrowed in curiosity, his thoughts swirling with possibilities. His gaze darted towards the clock, noting the lateness of the night.

He placed the cigarette in the ashtray. Quickly, he made his way to the door, his mind filled with concern that she would be seen. He swung open the door, coming face to face with his Meerab, her face radiant with delight as she slipped through the narrow opening that he had allowed.

"Meerab." He cautioned, his voice laced with warning as he closed the door behind her. She leaned back against it for support as she looked up at him. His heart thudded in his chest, acutely aware of the temptation and intimacy of having her in his room, alone, at this late hour. Even though it was exactly where she was meant to be.

She pouted up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief, she was so beautiful. The whine in her voice tugged at his heartstrings, making it nearly impossible to resist her. "Please, I snuck all the way here, you can't kick me out." She pleaded, her voice a soft melody that beckoned him closer.

"What if someone sees you?" He questioned, his voice laced with a touch of concern even though he had no plans of kicking her out.

"Maa Begum is snoring, Maryam is sleeping, and the house staff never comes to this side of the house at night." She assured him, her fingers playfully toying with the buttons of his kurta. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, making it increasingly difficult to deny her request.

She grasped his kurta, her innocent eyes locking with his as she whispered her desires. "I won't try anything...again, I just want to spend time with you." Her plea was accompanied by an irresistible pout, her lips begging for his, just like they had earlier that day when he returned home, with her body pressed up against his in the hallway. He was sure something would have happened again if the help hadn't come looking for her.

Murtasim found himself surrendering to Meerab's charm again, his resistance crumbling like sand as he nodded. Cupping her face gently, he leaned in, but she wrinkled her nose. "You smell like smoke."

He snickered as he pulled away, leading her into the bedroom, towards his makeshift workstation, appreciating the fact that she missed him enough to seek out his company.

Her eyes scanned the space with curiosity, he guessed she was imagining the changes they all kept discussing. All the women in the house were now obsessed with redesigning the room so it felt more like Meerab's space too.

Murtasim took a seat, settling in and letting her take in the space. He reached for another cigarette, lighting it, as he brought it to his lips, he found it swiftly plucked from his mouth by Meerab's nimble fingers.

"Give it back." He sighed, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Meerab, yaar." He whined as she extinguished the cigarette.

"Either we both smoke or we don't." Meerab declared firmly, her eyes filled with concern.

"It's not a big deal." Murtasim protested, a touch of defensiveness in his tone.

She shook her head, her expression serious. "It is. Do you know how many people in this country get lung cancer? And your nana-ji died from it. You have to live with me for a longggggg time, so you need your lungs, and I want mine." Her words held a gentle firmness, her nose scrunching as her eyes narrowed.

Murtasim watched her, his smile growing wider as he admired her adorable and whiny demeanor. He couldn't help but be captivated by the way she cared for him. He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't fill with warmth when she acted the way she was right then.

Yet, Murtasim's emotions were torn between gratitude for Meerab's genuine care, surpassing that of anyone else in his life, not even his mother had tried to stop him from smoking, and frustration because he knew that nothing soothed his restless mind quite like a cigarette.

"Meerab." He whined softly, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"You don't have to quit cold-turkey. How about slowly reducing it to one cigarette a week?" She suggested, her pout irresistible.

He let out a sigh, his resistance slowly crumbling under her persistent gaze.

"You can just come find me when you're stressed." Meerab proposed, her voice filled with a comforting assurance.

A smile tugged at Murtasim's lips. "Acha?" He replied, his eyes sparkling with affection.

He knew that Meerab would be a far better stress-reliever than anything else in his life, his body had felt like jelly when he came with her eyes on him just nights ago, she hadn't even touched him and he had felt like he was floating. He would literally float off with her hands...and her mouth on him.

And he couldn't help but suspect that in that moment he would forget all about smoking. For why would he when he could just lose himself in her, to find comfort in her, and even -

His eyes flickered up to hers again when she giggled, a knowing look on her face.

Meerab's giggles faded into a soft hum. "Haan."

It took him a moment to realize that she was responding to the playful acha he had uttered at her offer to find him when she was stressed...before he had been distracted by his rather unsavoury thoughts.

"Because although you look VERY sexy when you smoke." She paused to grin at him at that. "I know we both want babies. And apparently smoking is a risk factor for not having many, so you need to stop...and we also can't leave our babies behind so we have to live long lives." Her words carried a mix of playfulness and genuine concern.

He hummed.

Her lips pulled into a pout then, her eyes widening cutely as if she was a pleading kitten. "And then there is second-hand smoke, imagine how bad that would be for their itty-bitty tiny lungs."

He chuckled. "Itty-bitty?"

"They'll be so small, so obviously their lungs will be itty-bitty!" She gushed in a childish voice that warmed his heart.

The thought of filling their lives with children who had itty-bitty lungs brought a joy to Murtasim that was somehow more real than it had been the last time they discussed children. "But still strong?" He teased, playing along with her cute baby talk.

She nodded. "Of course! They'll be our children, so of course they'll have strong lungs and loud cries, and when they learn to laugh, really loud laughter." She smiled while swaying joyfully as if the thought made her immensely happy.

He understood it, because he too felt a joy bloom within him as he imagined their laughter echoing through the hallways of their home, their tiny footsteps leaving imprints on their hearts. One day, the world would bear witness to the existence of little human beings with fiery tempers and kind hearts.

"So, if not for me, do it for our children with their itty-bitty lungs!"

He laughed but nodded, accepting her reasoning, it seemed that the smoking bothered her even though she was trying to be cute about it. It wasn't the first time she had brought it up, and the fact that she had brought up that his mother's father had died of lung cancer told him she was truly worried.

"I'll quit smoking...slowly. I promise, meri jaan." He replied, his voice filled with determination.

Her face lit up with at his words, her eyes sparkling with joy, and a radiant smile graced her lips. In that moment, Murtasim found himself breathless, his heart skipping a beat, and his breath hitching in his throat. He couldn't help but be captivated by the sheer beauty of her smiling face no matter how many times she smiled at him. He would do anything for that smile, he could give up the world if it meant that she would smile at him the way she was.

Meerab's lips found his in a tender kiss, but she pulled away almost immediately, she playfully shook her head. "Yeah, if you want me to kiss you, you need to go brush your teeth." She teased, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Murtasim couldn't help but laugh at her remark. "You should have started with that, and I would have quit smoking right away." He quipped, his voice filled with lightness.

In response, she playfully whacked his arm as he got up from the sofa. He walked toward the bathroom to fulfill her request.

Murtasim walked back into the room minutes later, the scent of mint lingering on his breath. His eyes were immediately drawn to Meerab, who walked around the room, looking at the pictures that his mother had insisted he put up in his room. Her hair was tucked behind her ears, allowing the soft lamplight to illuminate her face, accentuating her features and casting a warm glow upon her.

"I am minty fresh." He playfully teased, a smile dancing on his lips, as he came to stand in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her waiting lips. Her infectious giggle filled the room, resonating against his lips, creating a symphony of joy that resonated within him. Her arms wound around his waist, holding him tight.

Murtasim scooped her up into his arms, knowing all too well the allure and danger of the situation. Yet, he still carried her over to the couch, knowing that if he were to venture two steps further to the bed, the new compromise they had reached of letting themselves indulge just enough would test him.

"Move up." Meerab requested as he settled onto the couch. Obeying her wishes, he chuckled as she positioned herself on his lap, her legs encircling him, drawing them closer together. She nestled herself against him, her head resting gently on his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of her warmth and presence.

She sighed happily.

"Did you miss me that much?" He asked, his heart filling with warmth, his watch had buzzed plenty of times with the three consecutive buzzes that meant I miss you.

"I didn't see you yesterday and for most of today." She whined. He had gone to the village to deal with some unrest, and hadn't thought it wise to take her with him even though he had been tempted to.

His fingers danced through her silky locks, savoring the sensation as he pressed a gentle kiss upon her temple. In that moment, with Meerab enveloped in his embrace, he felt a sense of peace and contentment, like all the stress of the day just disappeared into thin air.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, Meerab shifted back slightly, still holding him tightly but angling her head to gaze up at him. Her pursed lips silently pleaded for a kiss, a mischievous glimmer sparkling in her eyes.

He couldn't help but laugh at her adorable request, his heart swelling with affection. "Are you drunk?" He teased, his voice filled with affectionate amusement.

"On you, shaitaan." She giggled, her happiness radiating through her every word.

His eyes flickered down to her lips before his gaze trailed across her body, taking in every curve and contour. She wore a simple white kameez and salwar, and even in its simplicity, she radiated an irresistible allure. The fabric of her attire, slightly transparent as white fabric usually was, revealed glimpses of her delicate skin underneath. It draped loosely around her, yet she managed to make it look effortlessly flawless. Murtasim's mind couldn't help but wander, imagining what lay beneath that fabric, what he hadn't yet seen, the secrets waiting to be discovered.

He tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear as he took her in. She leaned into his touch, and he was glad he was sitting because he felt weak in the knees as her lips parted. Her eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes as she let out a whiny sound. He closed the distance between them, and pressed his mouth to hers, her soft lips moved against his in the most delicious way. His hands cupped her face again and her hands came to rest on his chest, atop his kurta, her fingers unbuttoning the top few buttons again to find his skin.

He groaned against her mouth, remembering the first time she had done that in the car, when she had climbed into his lap, kissed him, and rubbed against him until they were both a mess.

Meerab let out a soft sigh, her warm breath mingling with his. "Murtasim." She gasped against his mouth. Her hands tightened their grip on the fabric of his kurta, pulling him closer.

With a gentle tilt of his head, Murtasim deepened the kiss, their mouths moving in perfect sync. Their hearts beat in unison, a rhythmic symphony of desire and longing.

Reluctantly, they broke away, their chests rising and falling as they quietly gasped for air. Their eyes met. Murtasim's hands instinctively found their way into her luscious locks, his fingers gliding from her ears to the small of her back, savoring the silken texture beneath his touch.

Lost in the tender moment, one of his hands found its way to her face, caressing the softness of her cheek. She inhaled deeply, her breath hitching as his thumb traced the corner of her lips. A soft smile graced his face, his heart swelling with affection as he leaned in, capturing her lips once more.

All his thoughts narrowed down to the feel of her soft lips against his, moving slowly then quickly, and then slowly again.

They pulled away for just seconds to gasp for air before their lips met again, and again, and again.

His lips felt tingly and every nerve ending in his body felt awake but Murtasim was sure he could spend hours kissing her, and he intended to do just that.

With each breath he took, he greedily inhaled the scent of her, unwilling to relinquish her even for a moment. His lungs pleaded for air, but his heart yearned for her soft lips to remain pressed against his forever, as if to make up for the time they had lost.

In the depths of his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder what their relationship could have been if she hadn't left for Karachi. Perhaps they would have been indulging in stolen moments, sneaking around to steal kisses, reveling in the thrill of their secret romance – doing all the things they weren't supposed to do. Yet somehow, he had ended up married to her and was still supposed to resist just this.

A low, contented hum escaped Murtasim's lips as Meerab delicately sucked on his bottom lip, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through his veins. The electrifying sensation mingled with the need for oxygen, compelling him to pull away slightly, the two of them gasping for air as their lips reluctantly parted.

Her delicate fingers traced patterns along the exposed skin that had been revealed when she unbuttoned his kurta, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through his veins. His body responded eagerly to her touch, a rush of heat surging through him as he felt himself hardening beneath her. The awareness of their growing intimacy only fueled his hunger for her, and he couldn't bring himself to pull away, surrendering to the intoxicating magnetism that bound them together.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, and Murtasim found himself captivated by the sultry transformation that had taken hold of Meerab. Her pupils were dilated, accentuating the depths of her desire, while her lips appeared irresistibly swollen from their fervent kisses. It was a sight that stirred something primal within him, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity he couldn't quite put into words, it was the reason he succumbed to her every time, she looked just like she did then.

The heat between them crackled with an unspoken hunger, a yearning that beckoned them to explore the depths of their desires.

His fingers gently brushed against her cheek, tracing the curve of her lips. "Meri biwi." He whispered.

She grinned at that. A sigh escaped her lips. "It still feels surreal." She muttered while dancing happily.

Murtasim chuckled, she was so adorable.

Meerab sighed again. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, squeezing with such force that he couldn't help but laugh even as her tight hold made it difficult. "Trying to kill me?" He jokingly remarked, his arms encircling her in return.

With her head still nestled against his chest, Meerab pulled back slightly, her arms still wrapped securely around him. The angle at which she looked up at him made her look so utterly adorable, her cheeks looking like little chipmunk cheeks as she met his gaze and shook her head. "Sometimes inside me, it feels like there is too much love, and I just want to squeeze you so hard. I don't know why." She confessed with a hint of innocence. "But every time I want to do it, people are around, and I hate it because I just want to..." She squeezed him tight once more, expressing her overflowing affection.

Murtasim laughed, thoroughly enjoying how playful she was, she always had been, and he couldn't believe he had robbed himself of this for so long. He held her close, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and returning her tight embrace. "Me too." He whispered, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

She moved back a little, looking at him, her fingers entwined in his hair. "And I always just want to kiss you but there are always people around." She pouted just before their lips met in a fervent kiss again. Murtasim's heart pounded in his chest, his hands resting on her hips as he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her.

Her sighs and little moans were music to his ears, spurring him to explore further.

"Just kiss, meri jaan?" He teased against her lips, as his hands instinctively moved, their placement shifting from gentle caresses to a firmer hold. His fingers entwined in her silky locks again, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Meerab.

"A lot more than that." She whispered against his lips.

The intensity between them grew, and Murtasim's mind became a whirlwind of desires and emotions, his heart raced and his stomach tightened.

As their lips locked again, a surge of vivid images flooded Murtasim's thoughts. It was as if a wild current of fantasies had been unleashed the moment she had come around his fingers in her room. His imagination conjured scenes of his hand around her neck and eyes on hers as he thrust into her warmth, over and over again, while she made pretty sounds for him.

With a gentle push, he urged her to lie back on the sofa, his body covering hers with an urgency that spoke of his desire. Their lips remained locked even as she moaned against his, his tongue tracing every curve of hers, their breaths mingling in a passionate dance. He could feel her fingers gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer as if to meld their bodies together. The softness of her lips, the taste of her, it was intoxicating.

Murtasim's hands trailed down her sides, feeling the fabric of her kameez under his touch. The warmth of her body against his was a sensation that sent shivers down his spine. His touch was gentle, reverent, as he traced the outline of her chest. But then, his fingers encountered a lack of resistance, a realization that she wasn't wearing a bra under her kameez. His groan, muffled against her lips, was one of pure need and want.

He pulled away slightly, his breaths coming in ragged bursts. The desire in his eyes was undeniable as he looked down at her, his thumb caressing her bottom lip as if he couldn't resist touching every part of her. The scent of her perfume mixed with their combined heat enveloped him, intoxicating his senses.

"Meerab." He whispered, his voice husky with need, his fingers trailing along the neckline of her kameez. "You drive me absolutely mad."

She smiled up at him, her fingers brushing his cheek lovingly. "I know." She giggled, and he knew that the little minx had probably deliberately taken her bra off before coming to his room.

Meerab's smile was a mix of mischief and affection as she shifted their positions, her movements graceful as she pushed Murtasim back into a sitting position and straddled him once more. His breath hitched at the sight of her above him, her eyes shining with a playful glint that promised a world of tantalizing possibilities.

Her delicate fingers trailed over his face, tracing the lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. She leaned down, pressing peck after peck on his lips, each one like a butterfly's kiss. Murtasim couldn't help but chuckle against her lips, her playful affection breaking through the intensity of their passion.

With her smile still lingering, Meerab's fingers moved to the hem of her kameez, her eyes locked onto his as she slowly pulled the fabric over her head. His gaze was riveted, caught between the desire to look away and the overpowering need to drink in the sight before him. The kameez landed softly behind her, forgotten as his eyes remained fixed on hers, his heart pounding with longing.

There was a newfound confidence in her movements, a sense of self-assuredness that radiated from her as she basked in his gaze. And yet, a faint hint of shyness danced in her eyes, a vulnerability that made his heart swell with tenderness. In that moment, she was both bold and delicate, a dichotomy that he found utterly irresistible.

Their eyes remained locked, a silent understanding passing between them as they held each other's gaze. It was as if the world around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of shared emotions.

Murtasim's fingers itched to touch her, to trace every contour of her body. He raised his hand, his fingertips grazing the skin of her waist with a feather-light touch. The contact sent a shiver down her spine, her breath catching in response. He could feel the electric tension in the air, a palpable energy that crackled between them.

"Meerab." He whispered her name, his voice a blend of reverence and desire. He wanted to convey everything he felt for her in that single word, to let her know that she was his world, his heart laid bare before her.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his in a gentle, lingering kiss before she pulled away, inviting him to look with her eyes as she moved back, sitting on his thighs, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

Murtasim's breath caught in his throat as he allowed himself to look at her, unadorned by the fabric that had previously concealed her from his view. It was a moment of raw vulnerability and connection. His chest tightened and a heady cocktail of emotions that surged through him.

A low, guttural groan escaped his lips, an involuntary response to the sheer beauty that was before him. The moonlight streaming through the window painted her skin in silvery hues, casting a gentle glow that highlighted every curve and contour. She was a vision, a masterpiece crafted by the hands of the divine.

Words seemed insufficient to capture the magnitude of what he felt. Yet, he found his voice, a tender whisper that carried the weight of his admiration. "You are stunning, meri jaan." He murmured, his voice imbued with awe and adoration.

Murtasim's eyes remained fixated on the delicate contours of her full breasts, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as if in rhythm with her soft, hurried breaths. He noticed the swell of her breasts, how they curved with the grace of a sculptor's careful hand, they looked like the perfect handfuls.

His eyes were drawn to the tender peaks that crowned her breasts, the pinkish-brown buds standing erect, betraying her arousal. The thought that her body was responding to his presence in such a primal way ignited his own yearning.

The pinkish-brown hue of her nipples and the area around them blended seamlessly with the alabaster canvas of her skin, a tantalizing contrast that teased at his senses. He imagined the warmth of her flesh under his palms, the way she might feel against his tongue as he explored every inch of her with an unbridled hunger.

Meerab's breaths grew more audible, the rhythm of her chest rising and falling in time with his own quickened heartbeat. He was aware of the electric tension in the air, a potent mixture of desire and anticipation that wrapped around them like a silken thread as he observed her in silence. Every beat of his heart seemed to resonate with the soft quivers of her breasts, as if they were in sync, sharing an unspoken language of longing.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity and a reverence that bordered on worship, Murtasim's fingers inched closer, their tips brushing ever so gently against the soft skin that held so much allure. The air seemed to pulse with energy, a magnetic force that drew him closer to the epicenter of his desires.

With a mixture of trepidation and fascination, he allowed his hands to cup her breasts, and a shuddering breath left him as he felt the weight of her soft flesh in his hands. They were indeed perfect handfuls, filling his palms with an exquisite plumpness that ignited his senses. He marveled at the way they fit so seamlessly into his grasp. "So perfect." He whispered as he looked up at her.

She hummed as he squeezed gently, moving his hands a little, much like she had done when she touched herself in front of him, slowly circling. He couldn't deny the awe that swelled within him, the sensation of her against his palms was nothing short of intoxicating. Her warmth seeped into his hands, a sensory overload that had him craving more.

He marveled at the contrast between his calloused touch and the velvety smoothness beneath his hand. His thumbs grazed over her nipples, the hard peaks that responded eagerly to his caress.

"Murtasimmm." She hummed, her voice raspy.

His breath mingled with hers, the warm air carrying the sweet scent of desire that enveloped them both. His fingers brushed over the sensitive buds slowly, eliciting a delicate shiver from her that echoed through him like a whispered promise.

He watched as her lips parted, the gentle exhale escaping.

The moonlight painted a halo around her, casting a spell that rendered everything else inconsequential. His breath was a mix of awe and yearning as he spoke, his voice a mere rasp of desire. "You're gorgeous, Meerab," He whispered, the words carrying the weight of his emotions.

She smiled at him, not the radiant smile that lit up the whole room, but a shy smile that lit up his heart.

Meerab's breath hitched audibly as his fingers flickered her nipples, back and forth.

"Better than your hands?" He asked as his fingers continued their ministrations.

She hummed in response, arching her back, pushing her breasts closer to him.

Teenage Murtasim would have died if he had been afforded the opportunity to touch her like this, because he had wanted to, so badly.

The warmth of her skin seeped into his fingertips, sending a jolt of electricity up his arm. He marveled at the way her body responded to his touch, how her skin seemed to bloom under his caress. His fingers trailed lower, inching along her ribcage with an agonizing slowness that both teased and deepened his longing.

As his touch grew bolder, tracing a path that led to the gentle slope of her waist, he felt her tremble above him. Her breaths grew shallower, the air charged with an undeniable tension that held them both captive. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his fingertips, a testament to the effect he had on her.

Murtasim's gaze remained locked on her face, seeking every nuance of her reaction. He was captivated by the way her lips parted in a silent gasp, the softness of her eyes reflecting a kaleidoscope of emotions.

With a gentle yet firm touch, his hands moved to cradle her hips, anchoring her as he explored. Their gazes locked, and in that moment, time seemed to slow, allowing him to drink in the intricate shades of emotion that swirled in her dark eyes. He saw vulnerability, desire, and an unspoken plea that sent his heart into a frenzy.

His lips, moist and eager, found their way to the curve of her neck, a landscape of velvety skin that beckoned to be caressed. He pressed gentle kisses along the slope of her neck, feeling the gentle flutter of her pulse beneath his lips, each beat in sync with the rhythm of their shared anticipation. Her breath hitched, the sound a melodic harmony that mirrored his own ragged inhales.

"Murtasim." She gasped prettily, her hands coming to his shoulder.

As he continued his exploration, his lips became a canvas of desire, mapping the contours of her body. The journey was deliberate, his movements languid as he worked his way downward, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. He pressed a lingering kiss just below her ear, savoring the softness of her skin and the way her body responded to his touch.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as she surrendered herself to him. He felt her breath hitch as his lips moved lower, dancing along the column of her throat, each kiss a promise of the pleasures yet to come. Murtasim's heart soared as he felt her fingers tangle in his hair, her touch a wordless plea for more.

His lips continued their descent, trailing a path of yearning along the contours of her collarbone, leaving a wet trail of desire in their wake. When he reached the gentle swell of her breasts, his movements grew bolder, his lips parting to taste the tender flesh that beckoned to him.

A shiver rippled through Meerab as his lips made contact with her skin, her body reacting with an exquisite sensitivity that was both thrilling and intimate. He placed a slow, lingering kiss at the apex of her breast, his mouth encompassing the delicate bud that stood erect in response to his touch.

"Murtasim!" The sweet gasp that escaped her lips was a symphony of arousal, a melody that resonated deeply within him.

"I wanted to do this so many times." He whispered against her breasts, pausing to let his tongue flick across her nipple repeatedly.

She let out a pretty moan. "You should have." She gasped as he blew air against the wetness he had left behind, making her skin break out in goosebumps.

He repeated the action with her other nipple, loving the way she reacted to his ministrations.

As his tongue flicked out to taste the supple skin of her breasts again, he couldn't contain the cascade of words that tumbled from his lips. "You have no idea," he murmured, his voice a husky timbre that resonated with the depths of his desire. "How tempting you've always been to me."

He traced a slow, languid path across the curve of her breasts with his fingers, flicking and pinching, as his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that seemed to bridge the gap between their souls. "I could hardly breathe when I saw the way your kameez stretched across your chest." He confessed, his gaze flickering to the memory of countless moments when her attire had driven him to distraction.

She let out a pretty little moan for him. "Since?" She asked.

He chuckled, his lips pressed a lingering kiss just above her rapidly beating heart, his words a whispered confession that held the power to unravel her completely. "Since they first made an appearance...I had to force myself to not watch them move with your every breath." He continued, his voice growing huskier with each admission.

She let out a little giggle. "And here I was thinking you were a saint."

He laughed at that. "Far from." Murtasim's hands moved in a gentle caress, fingers tracing delicate patterns over her skin as he marveled at the softness beneath his touch. "I loved the way they felt against me when you hugged me." He breathed, his gaze darkening with a mixture of desire and awe. "It's a sensation I've longed to feel ever since I realized what it did to me."

She moaned. "And what did it do?"

He grabbed her hand and trailed it down the front of his body until it rested right above his hardness. "This."

She hummed.

He groaned as she squeezed his cock through his pajamas.

"That's all it took?" She asked.

A soft chuckle escaped him, a sound laced with the weight of his affection. "Mostly that...and the way they move when you laugh." He admitted with a hint of a smile.

"So, you were like every teenage boy out there then?"

"I was worse I fear."

She moved her hips against his, rubbing against his hardness. "And I love you for that."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that as his mouth descended upon her nipple again, his breath a heated whisper against her sensitive skin. As his tongue danced over her, his senses were flooded with the delicate interplay of textures – the velvety softness of her skin against the rigidness of her pebbled nipple. He felt a surge of arousal electrify his veins, his own need reflected in the fervor with which he suckled and licked.

Murtasim's devotion to her pleasure was palpable in every movement, in the way his lips formed a seal around her nipple, the gentle pressure of his suction drawing sweet, wanton sounds from her lips. "I love the pretty sounds you make for me, meri jaan." He murmured, his voice husky with desire.

She whimpered.

He reveled in the taste of her, the sensation of her nipple grazing against the roof of his mouth sending a shiver down his spine. The tip of his tongue flicked against the hardened bud, teasing and tantalizing with each movement. "How does it feel?" He whispered, his lips brushing against her nipples with every word.

She just gasped out his name.

"That doesn't answer the question, meri jaan."

"So good." She groaned.

His pace was unhurried, each flick, each suckle a slow exploration of the heightened sensitivity he was coaxing to life within her. The taste of her mixed with the heady aroma of their combined desire, enveloping him in an intoxicating haze. "I could do this forever." He whispered before sucking a peak into his mouth.

He was acutely aware of the way her hips arched into him, the telltale sign of her mounting pleasure. It fueled his hunger, spurring him on to intensify his ministrations. "Are you wet for me, meri jaan?" The question dripped with a sensual promise, he wanted to feel her clench around his fingers again, and maybe even against his tongue.

She nodded with a gasp. His own desire surged through him as he felt her body respond to his touch, her hips shifting, her breaths becoming more ragged.

With a feather-light touch, he alternated between softly blowing cool air across her damp skin and then drawing it back into his mouth with a sinful suction. The dichotomy of sensations, the contrast between warmth and coolness, had her body writhing atop him. He reveled in the control he held over her, the ability to elicit such unabashed responses from her.

The rhythm of his mouth matched the erratic beat of her heart, his movements fluid and skillful. His devotion knew no bounds as he lavished equal attention on both of her nipples, ensuring that none of her exquisite sensitivities went untouched. "You know...I read somewhere that some women can orgasm from just having their nipples played with?" He whispered, his desire was etched in every swirl of his tongue, every pull of his lips, every pulse of his arousal that mirrored her own.

She shook her head. "Touch me." She begged.

As he felt her hips respond, the buckling of her body pressing into him in an unspoken plea for more, he was overcome by a tidal wave of lust.

She was widening her legs, trying to seek more friction, rubbing herself against him so desperately that he couldn't help but smile. "That bad, huh?" He teased as he splayed his hand on her stomach, loving the contrast of his tanned skin against her pale stomach.

"Please." She whimpered.

He let his hand trail down, sliding between the waistband of her salwar, cupping her hot heat over her panties. He let out a groan as he felt both how warm she was and how soaked the fabric of her panties was. Every subtle movement of her hips seemed like a silent plea, urging him to explore further.

"Look at me." He demanded as he moved back a little, watching her atop him, her eyes hazy with need and dark with desire, her body flushed. Her chest heaving and flushed, he had been right to assume all of her would flush prettily. She was ethereal, more gorgeous than anything that existed in the world.

He watched her as he let his fingers trail along the length of her slit over her panties, rubbing repeatedly over her clit through the fabric until she let out a small cry of his name. Her eyes dark and mouth open wide, as if he was torturing her.

"What do you need, meri jaan?" He asked.

"Touch me, pleaseeeeeee." She begged.

He loved it when she begged.

He moved her underwear to the side, letting his finger rub her clit, groaning as he felt her wetness, so slick and warm for him. "So wet for me." He whispered as he rubbed, loving the way she whimpered and moaned. He slid his fingers down her soaked slit as his mouth found her nipple again, flicking with his tongue while spreading her wetness around with his fingers.

He slid one finger into her, loving the way she gasped out his name. "Ride my finger, meri jaan." He told her, smiling as her hips started moving right away, letting him hold still as she rocked and moved, moving his finger inside her while moaning prettily for him.

He'd make her ride his cock just like that soon, until her legs gave out, until she was gasping and crying and begging for release. Her breasts would sway just as they were right then, up and down as she bounced faster on his cock, and rocked.

"More." She begged, in a breathless whisper that went straight to his cock.

He added another finger, loving the wanton moan she let out as she rocked, taking him knuckle deep into her tight heat, using him to get herself off, trying to find the perfect angle.

In that intimate moment, as he felt the rhythm of her pleasure against his fingers, Murtasim's admiration for Meerab soared. The way she surrendered to her desires, unapologetically seeking her own satisfaction, resonated deeply within him.

Her wanton moans and the way her body arched and moved in harmony with his touch painted a portrait of raw desire that he couldn't help but admire. She was a force of nature, an embodiment of passion and longing that stirred his own desires to new heights. The way she used him to fulfill her cravings, unafraid to take her pleasure into her own hands, mirrored the depth of their connection and left him marveling at the fire that burned within her.

"Murtasim." She gasped, rocking harder.

"So needy, meri jaan."

"Shut up." She whined as she moved.

He chuckled and scissored his fingers inside her, opening her up for a third finger, pushing against her tight walls that gripped him.

The moan she let out as he pushed three fingers into her was much too loud but he loved it. She was so tight around him, trying to ride his fingers and gasping so prettily. He wondered how she would take his cock, he'd stretch her out so much with his girth.

He pushed her back until she lay on the sofa again, moving his fingers inside her hard and fast, curling them into her again like the last time, trying to find that spot that made her scream.

As Murtasim's fingers delved deeper into her, her uninhibited moans reverberated through the air, a symphony of passion that he couldn't get enough of. Each gasp, each plea, fueled his own desire, a raging fire that threatened to consume him. Her tightness around his fingers was a testament to her arousal, her body responding eagerly to his every touch.

He marveled at the way her hips continued to move with his fingers, instinctively seeking the rhythm that would bring her the most pleasure. The way she arched and gasped, pushing her breasts closer to him, so unapologetically lost in the throes of passion, only heightened his need for her. In that moment, as he gazed down at her flushed and beautiful face, he couldn't help but marvel at how utterly gorgeous she was, a vision of ecstasy that he would forever cherish.

The sounds that spilled from Meerab's lips were like a siren's call, a melody of desire that resonated deep within him. He wanted to devour those sounds, to etch them into his memory forever, a testament to the pleasure he could evoke in her. But somewhere in the recesses of his mind, reason still held its grip, reminding him of their precarious situation. He silenced her moans with his urgent kiss, his lips melding with hers in a passionate dance that was as much a desperate attempt to taste her as it was a reminder to keep their affections hidden from prying ears.

"Come for me, meri jaan, come around my fingers." He whispered against her lips as his thumb found her clit rubbing.

Murtasim's heart thundered in his chest as he witnessed her pleasure, a breathtaking sight that left him utterly captivated. Her features contorted in the most exquisite way, a symphony of raw ecstasy and vulnerability that he could never forget.

Her eyes, usually so expressive, now glistened with unshed tears of pleasure, her lips parted in silent cries that seemed to resonate with his very soul. The way her body trembled against his, the arch of her back as if reaching for some ethereal peak, had him unable to look away.

He felt the waves of her climax wash over his fingers, her warmth and wetness enveloping him in a sensation that left him breathless, and the sweet, rhythmic contractions of her walls pulsed around him like a promise fulfilled.

She sobbed, her back arching off the sofa as heat and wetness rushing through her, coating his fingers with her release as she writhed. She chanted his name as he kept on moving his fingers, her walls twitching around them.

As Meerab's body trembled in the aftermath of her climax, Murtasim was left grappling with the tempest of desire that raged within him. Her taste, her scent, the way she clung to him – it all conspired to drown him in a whirlpool of want.

His fingers were still buried within her, her warmth and slickness driving him to the edge of reason. The lines they had drawn, now dotted and easy to erase, blurred as he fought the fierce urge to give in to the primal call that echoed between them. Consequences and promises seemed distant and insignificant compared to the overwhelming need that pulsed through his veins.

With every hitch of her breath, every quiver of her body, the yearning within him intensified, urging him to cast aside restraint and lose himself in the intoxicating pull of their shared desire. He was so hard for her that it hurt, he debated saying fuck it and just sliding his cock into her, he wanted to feel her walls struggle to stretch to take him, to see the way her mouth would open in a gasp as he slid into her heat. He wanted to feel that around him so bad.

As if swept away by a powerful current of desire, Murtasim withdrew his fingers from Meerab's quivering heat. His lips embarked on a feverish journey, trailing a path of heated kisses down the elegant slope of her neck and settling onto the tender expanse of her breasts. He marveled at the responsive melody her body played to his every touch, her humming reverberating through him like a siren's call. With an artist's precision, his tongue etched circles around her peaked nipples, igniting trails of pleasure that coursed through her and seemed to sear into his own being. The soft press of her body against his lips, her unspoken yearning for more.

"I think I am addicted to this." She whispered.

The admission hung in the air like a tangible current of electricity, a confession of desires that refused to be silenced. Murtasim's lips curled into a half-smile as Meerab's whisper reached his ears, her words weaving a seductive spell that further intensified the molten desire between them. He pressed a lingering kiss to her collarbone, his breath a warm, heady caress against her sensitive skin.

As he drew back slightly, his gaze locked with hers, he confessed his own addiction with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. "Me too." He muttered. "I constantly think about this, but my imagination never does it justice."

With deliberate intent, he sat up, his fingers glistening with the remnants of her pleasure. He held her captive with his eyes, his every movement a deliberate act of both surrender and conquest. He brought his fingers to his mouth, and the sight of his lips wrapping around his own digits seemed to send a shiver coursing through her veins, her eyes dark on him.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable, his actions a silent promise of the pleasures that awaited. The taste of her lingered on his tongue as he lapped her essence, each deliberate swirl of his tongue an invitation to explore deeper, to bury himself between her legs for hours until she was screaming and writhing for him.

Desire surged through Murtasim's veins like a feverish wildfire as Meerab straddled him with a boldness that thrilled him. Her lips met his in a fervent collision, igniting a consuming hunger that had been building between them. He groaned into their kiss, his hands finding purchase on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as if to anchor himself in the storm of sensation.

As her fingers worked deftly to shed his kurta, he felt the fabric being lifted and peeled away, their lips breaking away for mere seconds as the air hit his bare skin with a tantalizing caress.

Murtasim's thoughts raced, his heart pounded, and all he could think about was the enchanting force of the woman above him – a tempest of audacity and desire.

His heart quickened as he watched the flicker of desire in Meerab's eyes, the way her gaze traversed his body as if committing every plane, every muscle, to memory. It was a visual caress that ignited a firestorm of need within him, an affirmation of the hunger that burned between them. The corners of his lips curled upward in a silent acknowledgement of the effect he was having on her. His dedication to maintaining his physique through regular workouts now seemed like a reward as he saw her appreciation unfold before him.

As her fingers traced a tantalizing path down the front of his body, his breath hitched in his throat, and the world seemed to narrow down to the point of contact. The electric warmth of her touch seared through his skin, sending sparks of desire racing along his nerve endings. "You're so perfect." Her whispered words, laden with the weight of longing, reached his ears, fanning the flames of his own arousal. He had always been aware of her attraction to him, but seeing it manifest so openly in the hunger that radiated from her gaze and her every touch was a revelation that sent his senses into overdrive.

Murtasim's pulse quickened as her hand continued its initial exploratory journey, running down his front, and the low sound that escaped her lips was a siren's call to his desire. He savored the sensation of her touch, the way her fingers danced across his skin, and the whispered confession of her admiration.

Just as Meerab's eyes locked onto his, her fingers tracing delicate patterns against the contours of his abs, a shared anticipation simmering between them, she leaned in with the promise of a passionate kiss. The charged atmosphere crackled with the intensity of their desire, every heartbeat echoing the unspoken promise of what was about to unfold.

But before their lips could bridge the distance, a sudden and sharp knock shattered the moment, the sound reverberating through the air like an unwelcome intrusion. 

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A/N: Hehehehehe, so, what do we think? Who is at the door? Will poor Murtasim ever get touched by his wife?