Dhaagey: The Ties that Bind Us

32. a helping hand

A/N: I might have had this chapter planned out from the moment I started writing this story, hehehehe. Enjoy!

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

Murtasim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – desire, worry, regret. The sound of Meerab's pleas had cut through him like a knife, tearing at his self-control. He had never been good with tears, especially hers. Her sobbing pleas resonated in his mind, stirring a burning need within him to chase the tears away. As soon as he hung up, he couldn't bear to stay away any longer.

Murtasim moved through the silent house, each step careful, each breath measured. His body was aching with the same want he'd heard in Meerab's voice. His own hand had unconsciously wandered during their conversation, offering some relief to the tension that had built up. He adjusted his hardness, discomfort evident, his arousal a clear reminder of his desire for his wife.

Slipping into her room, he quietly shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence. The room was dimly lit, her figure sprawled on the bed, visible in the soft glow. His heart hammered in his chest, a fierce longing coursing through his veins as his eyes feasted on the sight in front of him.

Meerab looked over at him, flushed with desire, her wide eyes staring at the door in disbelief as if she hadn't expected him to come for her. Her body was under the thin sheet, the curves evident even under the fabric. Her face was glowing in the light that filtered from the lamp, a captivating sight that had his breath hitching.

Her scent filled the room, an intoxicating mix of her natural scent, roses and jasmine, and the hint of her arousal. It was a heady smell that drove him wild, his senses overwhelmed with all things Meerab. His eyes flared with desire, a low groan escaping him as he took in the sight.

Murtasim's heart pounded in his chest as he came face-to-face with her. Her hands, hidden beneath the blanket, were still moving in rhythmic motions, her t-shirt, visible above the top of the sheet that covered her, skewed from her restless movements. To Murtasim, she looked breathtakingly beautiful in that moment. His body reacted to her instinctively, his desire for her overwhelming him.

He was entranced, his eyes locked onto the small movements under the thin sheet. It was evident what she was doing, she hadn't stopped even at the sight of him, and it caused a rush of arousal to course through him. The moment was hotter than any fantasy he'd ever conjured up, reality far surpassing imagination.

He could hardly tear his gaze away from her. "Don't stop." He instructed, his voice a low rumble. The sight of her, lost in pleasure and desire, was too intoxicating to resist.

But her only response was a soft, pleading "please."

She withdrew her hand from under the sheet, the glimmering evidence of her arousal coating her fingers. The sight sent a jolt of desire through Murtasim, his eyes darkening as he watched her. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, stirring something primal within him.

Slowly, Murtasim made his way across the room, every step calculated. He sat down on the bed next to her, his body aching with the desire to touch her, to just pull the sheet off her, rip all her clothes off and bury his face between her legs.

As if reading his thoughts, Meerab brought her fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent of her, the tangy-sweet aroma filling his senses. Then she did something that took his breath away - she offered him her fingers, bringing them close to his mouth. He couldn't resist the temptation. Closing his eyes, he took her fingers in his mouth, tasting her, the flavor of her arousal sending a rush of adrenaline through him. The slight smirk on Meerab's face told him that she knew exactly how tempting she was.