Chapter 159: I want to feel you

"I-I d-d-do," she replied shakily when he pinched her down there, making her inhale a sharp

breath. She jumped in her place and looked at him pleadingly.

The lust was visible in his eyes.

Her stomach clenched with fear as her breath reduced to whimpers. She wished there was

no wall behind her so she could create as much space as possible between them.

"When was the last time my lips felt yours?" his voice was nothing but a raspy whisper as

his hooded eyes stared at her, and his fingers played with her lips.

She just shook her head. "Please,"

"I want to feel you so much more, Sheharzaad Qureshi," he suddenly said, snaking both his

hands against her waist and pushing her body towards him so that not even the remnants of

space between them were left. "Without any barriers," he said as one of his hands began to

move around her back while the other pressed her more to him. "Take you until you forget

your name," he uttered and brushed his lips against her eyes, followed by her cheeks.

He looked into her gorgeous eyes as she stumbled on her words. The sight of her trying to

avoid him just made him want her even more. He loved seeing her afraid of him; it made it

all the more fun. He knew he had her in the palm of his hand, and he wasn't going to let go

anytime soon.

As she trembled and looked at him with pleading eyes, he moved closer to her. He could see

the fear in her eyes but also the desire. He could see that she wanted him just as much as he

wanted her. But it felt as if that want itself was forced out of her.

"Your eyes stop me from advancing. They tell me I don't have a right to you. Is that so,

Zaad?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and yearning. Slowly, he stepped

back just enough to create a sliver of space between them before tilting his head and

pressing a tender kiss on her lips. It was soft at first, almost reverent. But as his tongue

brushed against the seam of her lips, coaxing them to part, she surrendered to the pull of

the moment, her lips instinctively parting to deepen the kiss.

Her heartbeat quickened when his fingers trailed down her side, seeking the zipper of her

shirt. As he began to tug it down, the quiet rasp of the zipper filled the room. She squirmed

against his hold, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The intensity of his proximity

overwhelmed her senses, her body betraying her mind's frantic resistance.

Her breathing hitched when his hand brushed the bare skin beneath her clothing, his touch

sending ripples of warmth coursing through her. His fingers moved upward, grazing her

curves with deliberate care, his thumb and forefinger capturing one sensitive peak. He

rolled the hardened bud between his fingers, his touch firm yet teasing, drawing a sharp

gasp from her lips.

Instinctively, she turned her head away from him, her hair brushing against his cheek in her

haste, and abruptly released herself from his grip with a sharp push. Her palms trembled as

they pressed against his chest, the firmness of his body a stark reminder of his

overpowering presence. The moment their eyes locked, a wave of dread surged through

her, and her heart seemed to stutter before racing uncontrollably.

The realization of what she had done hit her like a thunderclap. A grave mistake. Her chest

tightened as if an invisible hand was squeezing the air out of her lungs. The blood drained

from her face, leaving her skin cold and clammy, and her legs felt weak as if they might

buckle beneath her.

Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps, the sound harsh in the tense silence of the room.

The walls seemed to close in, their oppressive weight amplifying her panic. Her hand, which

had been resting lightly on his chest, jerked back as though she had touched fire, her

fingertips tingling with the ghost of his warmth.

Her vision blurred momentarily, tears threatening to spill as her mind spiraled. Which fear

is worse? The question battered her thoughts. The haunting remnants of the dream still

lingered, but the reality of his piercing gaze, his silent but intense reaction, was far more

terrifying.

The faint scent of his cologne—woodsy and sharp—lingered in the air, mingling with the

salty tang of her own sweat. It overwhelmed her senses, and the small space between them

felt charged, electric, as though the air itself pulsed with unspoken tension.

"I will not do it ever again. I promise," she whispered, her voice trembling, every word

shaky and desperate. Her hands clutched at her sleeves as she shook uncontrollably, her

tear-filled eyes begging him for mercy.

He took a step forward, and she let out a startled cry, pressing herself against the wall. Her

back met the cold surface, and she shrank into it, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"Zaad," he said quietly, his voice heavy but restrained. Her head shook violently as she

stammered, "I promise. I-I promise. I promise," over and over like a broken record, tears

streaming down her pale face.

Her mind was in chaos, memories crashing through her like waves. The cell. The suffocating

silence.

The rules. Commands she couldn’t escape. The chains. The cold, biting metal.

And the darkness. Endless and consuming.

Her breathing turned ragged, her chest heaving. When he raised a hand, she flinched

violently, throwing her arms over her head. "Please," she sobbed. "Don’t—don’t hurt me. I’ll

never do it again, I swear."

He froze. For a moment, the hard mask he wore cracked, his hand slowly lowering. Her

trembling form, her tears—he hadn’t expected this. "Zaad," he said again, softer this time,

stepping back.

Her eyes, wide and glassy, lifted to his face. She searched for cruelty but found something

else—something that made her hesitate. Was it concern?

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly, the guilt in his voice unmistakable. "You’re safe

here. Even from me."

"I will never do it—" she sobbed, and he flashed down both her hands, revealing her face to

him.

He placed his thumb in the dip between her clavicles only to find her heart racing wildly. He

knew if he pressed further, she would faint.

"Calm down," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl, thick with restraint.

"It w-will... it w-w-will happen... as y-y-you wi-wish," she stammered, her words trembling

under the weight of fear. Her wide eyes darted to his, pleading, though her body remained

frozen against the wall.

His ring-clad thumb traced the seam of her lips, deliberate and unhurried. The cold metal

brushed her skin, making her shiver. The motion was intimate, invasive, as if claiming the

space his kiss had just abandoned.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking with sobs. "Pl-please d-d-don't b-be upset."

Her words tumbled out, frantic, as her body quaked with the thought of his disapproval.

He stepped closer, closing the small gap between them, and her sharp, broken cry made him

pause. Her hands rose instinctively, shielding herself from what she feared was coming.

Her breathing was shallow, her chest heaving as if she couldn’t draw in enough air. He

didn’t move, but his eyes—dark and intent—roamed over her tear-streaked face, lingering

on the curve of her trembling lips.

"I'm not upset," he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated between them. "Shhhh,

little lady. Just breathe." The words carried a promise that wasn’t entirely innocent.

Her sobs softened to uneven breaths, her gaze lifting to meet his. Her lips, still trembling,

looked soft, swollen, and unbearably inviting. His chest tightened. He knew he should step

away, but his resolve faltered.

Every inch of him burned with the need to close the distance, to feel the warmth of her body

pressed against his. His hand hovered at his side, twitching as if it had a mind of its own,

wanting to cup her face, to brush his thumb against her cheek, to feel her surrender beneath

him.

Her red-rimmed eyes locked with his, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered there

—hesitation, confusion... maybe even curiosity. It stoked the fire in him, made the pull

toward her almost unbearable.

He leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her skin, his gaze dropping to her lips as his

thumb dragged slowly across her jawline. Her breath hitched, and the soft, unbidden sound

sent heat spiraling through him.

But then, he stopped. The faint tremor in her frame, the flicker of fear in her gaze—it was

enough to force him back. With a sharp exhale, he stepped away, every muscle in his body

screaming at him to stay.

Without a word, he turned and left, his retreat deliberate and slow, leaving her trembling

against the wall, lips parted in confusion.