Chapter 185: Unsatiated

She had been awake for the past thirty minutes, but she knew he was there, awake and

working on his laptop. She was waiting for him to leave because only then would she get up.

Again, the reason was the same.

The utter anxiety she would feel around him. Especially while being subjected to his eyes,

which were always so intense and focused on her. As if he had been measuring each and

every action of hers. Specks of lust would be visible in those orbs, which was the most

nerve-wracking thing.

She felt he did not exactly get the chance to unleash himself on her. Because the first chance

he would get, he would strip her and lead her to the bed, taking her in the same way as he

did in the car. And she had been trying her best to avoid giving him that opportunity.

Her senses went on high alert as she felt him closing the lid of his laptop, placing it aside

before getting up from the bed. It only meant that he was going to the restroom to take a

shower and leave for his office. This thought brought her a sense of joy.

Her ears caught the sound of his footsteps receding as he headed toward the washroom. It

made her release her breath shortly, which was struck in her throat. Then she heard the

sound of the restroom door opening and shutting, and only then did she open her eyes and

sigh out.

She could feel the noose around her neck slightly loosening. Her reaction made her wonder

how she would spend the rest of her life with him. She really wanted to stop herself from

reacting this way. All the time, worried, depressed, and anxious about upsetting him. She so

wanted to live and breathe freely.

Smile.

Laugh.

Talk.

But all she had now was apprehension.

What had her life become?

It grieved her.

It often pushed out all those memories that she had locked in the back of her mind with her

parents. She would often miss them, especially her mother. Because practically, there was

no one with whom she could talk about what she had been feeling.

There was Amna, but she thought Shehryaar had not allowed her to contact her.

And now all she had was her husband.

But she somewhere within her knew that she would never easily open up to him about her

heart. Rather, never. Because he was the root of her circumstances. In her heart, there was

this depressed thought that she had buried deep within—that she would never forgive him

for what he did to her. Yet she would never let that thought out.

The whole situation just left her helpless and hopeless, and if death was to come the next

moment, she would accept it with an open heart.

Because there was nothing left to live for in this life. She was just a walking corpse. She was

nothing but forced into a marriage, and there was no way out of this marriage except for

death. So she preferred death to this life. She was tired of being scared. And Shehryaar still

had so much potential in him to make her scared.

Maybe just with a frown.

Maybe just with a mere look of disapproval.

Maybe just with a slightly raised voice.

And her heart had become too weak to endure any such fear. Tremors and shivers had

become a part of her persona. Docility had begun to define her. Fear was the only prime

emotion left in her. Submissiveness had become her nature.

She was nothing but Shehryaar's perfect puppet.

Her heartbeats fumbled as the door opened again, and he entered. Immediately, she closed

her eyes again, pretending to sleep. She lay motionless, pulling off the best of her acts. Her

eyes were closed gently, and to give more substance to her act, she slightly hung her mouth

open. Her ears detected the sound of his footsteps approaching her.

She felt him squatting down in front of her and felt his eyes on her. She was now directly

facing him, but the only barrier between them was her closed eyelids.

His thumb moved and traced the features of her face. Her brows, her eyes, nose, and

reached her lips. As he caressed the pad of his thumb against her lips, she stayed motionless

as he traced his thumb down to her throat, reaching the dip of her neck where her

shoulders met.

"You look pretty, Zaad," he muttered more to himself as he closed in on her.

Her heartbeat spiked.

"More so," he said as his face paralleled with hers, as his hand moved from her throat to the

back of her neck, "when you're pretending to sleep," and as soon as his words left his

mouth, he had his lips over hers, which made her open her eyes as he pulled her up with his

hand at her neck, placed his knee on the bed, and sucked the breath out of her lungs. To

support herself, she placed both her hands on the mattress while her wavy tresses were

sprawled open as he continued to kiss her.

Sheharzaad felt intimidated and more anxious since he was shirtless and his bare chest

made him appear more daunting. Her stomach knotted out of fear as she began to take

deep, heavy breaths. Her mind drowned back in the memories of the night when her

virginity was stolen.

Tears formed in her left eye as tiny sobs accumulated in her throat, but she could not dare

push him back. She suddenly was feeling claustrophobic, anxious, and nostalgic.

Her heart was beating in the same rhythm as it had beaten that night. And when she would

think of pulling him away, instantly her mind would click in the memories of her days in the

cell. Her mental state wasn't in her control. Her steel-like nerves had become so weak that

now she was not able to have an upper hand on her mind.

Once eating her lips to his desire, he stopped before giving a last peck on her lips and

joining his forehead with hers, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Sheharzaad," he uttered, remaining in the same position.