"Why are you trembling, my dear?" he sneered. "Aren't you a whore? Seduce me then......"
Mishti's voice shook as she tried to protest. "Please, Sultanji, you're not in your right mind. You're heavily intoxicated. Stay away from me!"
Sultan's express...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He held my tears like the last drop of his blood
---Mishti🥀🥀🥀🥀
______________________________________
Mishti's heart raced as Sultan grasped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Now, I won't let you forget me," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We'll make love to the extent that - well, let's just say you'll never forget me again."
Mishti quivered at his words, a mix of fear and anticipation bubbling within her.
But Sultan's voice softened as he said, "Now, don't be sad. Come with me."
He guided Mishti to the back of the house, where a beautiful garden with an artificial lake lay.
Mishti, amidst her fear, was in awe as she watched her reflection in the still waters. Sultan's eyes were fixed on her.
"I have something for you that can make you happy," he said, and Mishti looked on as he took out a tiny box of sindoor and sankha pola.
Tears welled up in her eyes as he said, "Don't your people wear these after... getting married?"
Mishti's breath caught in her throat. She knew what he was implying - that he was ready to claim her completely. The thought both terrified and intrigued her.
Sultan moved closer, closing the distance between them. "Mishti," he whispered, his lips barely grazing hers. "Say you'll be mine, forever."
Mishti was speechless. She paused for a moment, then asked, "But why? You have already married me with your rituals. Then why the need for more?"
Sultan gazed into her eyes, a hint of sadness in his expression.
"I know our union was not of your choosing, Mishti. I wish to make amends, to show you that I can be the husband you deserve - one who cherishes and respects you, not just claims you as his own."
Mishti stood there, frozen in place, as Sultan applied the sindoor to her head.
Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and disbelief. This couldn't be real - how had she ended up in this situation?
As Sultan slipped the sankha pola onto her trembling hands, he gazed at her adoringly.
"Your hands fit mine perfectly," he murmured, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together. He wrapped her hands around his waist,his head resting against hers.
Mishti shivered at his touch, overwhelmed by the intensity of his embrace.
"We're newlyweds now, aren't we?" Sultan whispered, his voice low and smooth. Mishti felt dizzy, unsure of how to respond.
