Aashiq (11) (18+)

 

**Rafiq's POV**

The morning air was clean as I woke up earlier than usual, leaving my sweet babydoll curled up against me, snug like a tiny, innocent puppy. 

She murmured something incoherent in her sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

 My world, my peace, rested right there in my arms.  

Quietly slipping out of bed, I draped the blanket over her and headed out to check the security around the haveli. 

It was a necessity these days, especially after the deals I had shut down yesterday—deals that had wounded the egos of powerful men.  

As I exited the room, I spotted Zaid sneaking into his room, the faintest hint of tiredness on his face. His disheveled appearance and the delicate trace of perfume lingering in the air spoke volumes.

Zaid was not one to be swayed by women, yet there was something different about him today. His eyes held a spark—wild, untamed desires beneath his calm exterior.  

I gave him a knowing nod as he passed me, and he returned it. 

We didn’t need words; we understood each other.

 Perhaps it was because we were both consumed by our own desires, captivated by the women who ruled our hearts.  

The security check revealed nothing unusual, though I remained on edge. Yesterday’s rejection of shady deals had surely angered a few influential figures. 

One particularly cocky young man, the minister’s son, had tested my patience. I still remembered the crunch of my fist against his jaw. His father had been quick to assure me that the boy would stay away from my family. Wise decision. Otherwise, my men would’ve had to dig grave for their entire generation. 

Satisfied that all was in order, I returned to my room.  

“Subah khair,” a soft, melodious voice greeted me as I entered.  

Dalia stood by the dresser, drying her damp hair with a towel. Droplets of water clung to her skin, glistening like pearls in the soft morning light. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink, and her nose was red from the coldness of her bath. The vibrant red suit she wore only amplified her beauty, making her look nothing short of divine.  

Leaning against the doorframe, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was mesmerizing, a vision that left me utterly helpless.  

“Ese toh na dekhein,” she said softly, her voice shy yet teasing as her cheeks turned even redder.  

“Naa nazrein maan rahi hain, naa dil,” I replied, my voice low and husky as I moved closer to her.  

She turned away, her reflection in the mirror revealing her nervous smile. I stood behind her, pressing my chest against her back. The scent of her freshly washed hair filled my senses, intoxicating me. Taking the towel from her hand, I tossed it aside, ignoring her protests.  

“Sunein?” she murmured, her hands weakly attempting to push mine away from her waist.  

“Bolein, Mehboob-e-Rafiq,” I whispered into her ear, my hands trailing down to the knot of her suit.  

Her breathing quickened.

Blood rushed to my cock being overly excited and ready to hammer her small pussy till she was filled with my white hot cum. 

"W..o...nn...h mera mah..ina aa gaya" she said but my hands didn't stop and I took my hand under her kameez. 

"Toh?" I asked. Those hands had played with litres of blood, so it didn't cause any discomfort at that point. 

A warm thick padding came under my hand when I reached her crotch and she jumped at sudden touch. 

“Nah karein. Mahina khatam hone ke baad karenge… umm,” she moaned softly, her voice trembling even at my lightest touch.  

Her words were barely coherent, and I watched her with fascination. 

Her skin was so sensitive, her every shiver and sigh fueling the fire within me.

“Bas upar upar se karunga, baby,” I murmured with a teasing smirk, my fingers caressing the curve of her waist.

 Before she could muster a protest, I leaned in and kissed her face—soft, lingering kisses that silenced her words and sealed our unspoken deal.  

Her lips parted, and her breath hitched, her flushed cheeks deepening in color. She turned her face away shyly, her lashes fluttering, but I wasn’t done. I trailed kisses across her temple, down to her jawline, savoring the way she melted into my hold.  

“Rafiq,” she whispered my name like a prayer, her voice tinged with both resistance and surrender.  

“Haan, jaan-e-man?” I whispered back, my lips brushing against her ear. Her heartbeat was erratic under my palms, and I couldn’t help but grin.  

“Ap zyada shararati ho rahe hain,” she complained weakly, but there was no real fight in her voice.  

My palm travelled under her pant then under her panties and I felt a gush of warm liquid, but didn't care and plunged inside her hole. 

“Bas tumhare liye,” I replied, my voice full of mischief and adoration.  

She let out a resigned sigh, her hands clutching the fabric of my shirt as if to held herself. Moments like these reminded me of why I could never let her go—she was my weakness, my strength, my everything.  

“Ummm… ahhh,” she moaned softly, her body trembling as she shifted beneath my palm. Her movements were involuntary, her sensitivity taking over, and I supported her with my other hand, keeping her steady.  

“So fucking sensitive,” I seethed in her ear, my voice a mix of awe and desire. She hummed in response, her lips parting slightly as I captured her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss.  

“Be a good girl, baby. Cum for me,” I ordered, my tone both commanding and coaxing. Her legs trembled violently, and within seconds, her body shuddered as she released herself completely.  

Removing my blood coloured fingers, I wiped them on my shirt, not wanting to ruin her dress. 

I kissed her forehead tenderly as her legs gave way, scooping her up in my arms. She fit perfectly against me, her head resting against my chest. I moved to place her on the soft mattress, but she suddenly shrieked.  

“Nahi!” Her voice was firm, and I stopped instantly.  

“Tum theek ho? Kahi dard hai tumhe, babydoll?” I asked, scanning her for any injury. I thought I might had fucked her hard last night and became worried. 

She looked fine on the outside, but her hesitant expression told me there was something else.  

“Umm… I can’t sleep on the bed,” she murmured, her gaze dropping as she glanced at the mattress.  

“Bed uncomfortable hai? Main naya order kar deta hoon. Softest material aur tumhari pasand ka hoga,” I said, determined to fix whatever the issue was. But she shook her head.  

“Bed mein koi problem nahi hai... mujhe hai,” she said softly, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.  

“Mujhe samajh nahi aaya,” I replied, confused.  

“Mahine ke end tak main bed par nahi rest karungi… warna aap bhi dirty ho jayenge,” she whispered, her words hesitant, but they hit me like a storm.  

I stared at her for a moment, then placed her on the bed despite her protests.  

“No. I can’t sit on the bed. Let me go!” she pleaded, trying to wriggle free.  

“Dalia. Stop it,” I said sternly, my tone leaving no room for argument. She froze, her wide eyes looking at me.  

“Main inn sab cheezo mein nahi maanta. Behtar hoga ki tum bhi na karo,” I said gently, cupping her face in my palm. Her small, red face fit perfectly against my hand as she nodded, her gaze still lowered.  

“Yeh sab tumhe kisne samjhaya, Dalia?” I asked, my eyes searching hers. She remained silent, but I already knew the answer.  

“Kya tum hamesha inn din floor par sote the?” I questioned further, but again, there was no response.  

“Kya tumhare cravings ke waqt kuch khane diya jata tha?” I asked, my voice softer now.

 A single tear rolled down her cheek, and the rage I felt toward Dilroz bubbled up inside me. To torture her and maybe pull out her good for nothing brain out of her skull. 

But before I could dwell on it, her soft hand touched my palm, grounding me.  

“Bhul jayein yeh sab… it was in the past,” she said quietly, as if trying to assure me.  

“Right. Ab tum sirf smile karogi aur khush rahoogi,” I said firmly, wiping her tear away. To lighten the mood, I tickled her stomach, and her laughter filled the room, washing away the sadness.  

Later, as I got ready for the day, I carefully placed my T-shirt into a zip-lock bag, securing it inside another bag that also held a white bedsheet with faint bloodstains—a reminder of the night I claimed Dalia as mine. I had saved it from the garbage, unable to let go of the memory it carried.  

Shaking off those thoughts, I dressed in a tailored shirt and pants and joined the family for breakfast.  

“Kal ka jashan sabko pasand aaya,” Abbu said, his authoritative voice breaking the silence.  

“Shukriya, Bade Abbu,” Zaid responded respectfully.  

“Shukriya, Abbu,” I echoed, but my focus was elsewhere—under the table, where Dalia’s hand was clasped tightly in mine. She tried to pull her fingers free, but I held on possessively.  

Zaid noticed and sighed, though he said nothing.  

“Itna shandaar karyakram dekh kar, tum dono ke liye kai rishte aaye hain,” Abbu continued, and I saw a maid approaching with tea.  

“Aur isliye humne Zaid ka rishta tay kar diya hai,” he declared.  

The sound of a teacup crashing to the floor interrupted the announcement. Zaid had dropped his cup, startling the maid. 

“Andar jao, Fiza,” Zaid said firmly but quietly, his tone controlled.  

“I… main saaf kar deti hoon,” Fiza said, bending down to pick up the shards with her bare hands.  

“Fiza!” Zaid barked, grabbing her wrist. “Andar jao, humne kaha!”  

Her eyes widened at his tone, but she nodded and walked away hesitantly.  

I smirked inwardly. Zaid’s reaction was telling. His possessive grip mirrored my own under the table. He was clearly protective of her—his eyes, far from angry, were soft and caring. Something was definitely going on between them.  

The debate about Zaid’s marriage began, and I couldn’t help but notice Dalia squirming uncomfortably in her seat, her face betraying a painful expression. 

Her hands clutched the fabric of her dress tightly, her knuckles pale.  

I gently let go of her hand, which I had been holding for a while, and placed my palm on her belly in a soothing gesture. She flinched slightly, startled, but as my hand rested there, I saw her shoulders relax, and her breathing steadied. Her pain ebbed away, replaced by calmness.  

Earlier, while bathing, I had done some research on Google about how to take care of her during these delicate times. It wasn’t much, but I had learned enough to ensure she felt comfortable and cared for.  

Suddenly, Zaid’s Abbu raised a hand to silence the growing arguments. "Zaid ko bhi bolne do, Sufna," he said, his voice heavy with authority.  

The discussion was becoming heated. I decided to intervene, not just as a participant but to support my cousin. I clapped Zaid on the back, leaning slightly toward him. "Haan Zaid, ye tumhara faisla hai," I said, giving him an encouraging nod.  

Adil also gave Zaid a nod of support, but I could see the discomfort on his face. After all, no one defied Abbu or Dada Jaani in this house—it was practically unheard of.  

Still, Zaid stood firm and made his decision. 

To my surprise, Abbu agreed without further argument. As I glanced at my father, I noticed a faint, knowing smile on his face. It was as if he had already expected Zaid’s response. Of course, he was my father afterall—he knows all of us better than anyone else ever could. 

Adil was assigned to take Anisa to her college, so I decided to take Dalia out. She had been insisting all morning with those soft, pleading puppy eyes of hers, and despite trying to act indifferent, I gave in like I always did. Melted like ice, if I’m being honest.  

We stopped by her college first. Dalia stood outside for a while, staring up at the building with wide, curious eyes. She didn’t say much, just observed quietly, taking in the environment. Then, I took her into the nearby park and she kicked off her shoes, walking barefoot on the grass.  

She looked peaceful, almost childlike, as she twirled slightly, her toes digging into the soft ground. I stayed nearby, watching her with a smile. She seemed oblivious to the stares of other students, though I wasn’t. The five intimidating guards around us ensured that no one dared approach her. One sharp glare from them, and every student scurried away like frightened mice.  

Not that I cared. My attention was solely on Dalia—her serene expression, her carefree laughter, and the way she bit her lower lip when the blades of grass tickled her feet. I made sure she ate properly, too, feeding her with my own hands when she got too lost in the moment to remember.  

After the park, I decided to take her to a gynecologist. I didn’t want to risk anything regarding her health, especially when she seemed to be in pain earlier. The doctor recommended some vitamins and supplements, which I bought without a second thought.  

Later, while shopping, I picked out the best and softest sanitary napkins for her in cart.  

(My dream husband's quality 😭) 

"Rafiq, yeh kitne expensive hai! Main itne mehange cheezein kaise use kar sakti hoon?" she protested, crossing her arms.  

I raised an eyebrow. "Tumhare liye sabse accha lena mera kaam hai, Dalia. Bas khud ka dhyan rakho."  

She frowned, her brows knitting together. "Kya zarurat hai is sab ki?apne usual wale se theek hoon!"  

Ignoring her complaints, I simply gave her a look that silenced any further arguments and continued shopping.  

On our way back, I decided to drop her at the haveli before heading to the warehouse for shipment details. In the car, Dalia seemed restless. She kept fidgeting with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers. I glanced at her sideways and finally broke the silence.  

"Bolo, babydoll. Kya chahiye aapko?" I asked, my voice soft but teasing.  

Her eyes widened slightly, and she hesitated before asking cautiously, "Aap khwahish razi karenge?"  

I smirked, pretending to think. "Sochenge."  

She pouted immediately, a slight crease forming on her forehead. Shifting closer, she held onto my bicep and rested her chin on it, looking at me with the kind of innocence that could melt the coldest of hearts.  

I sighed. If she had asked me to die at that point I would agree happily amd gave her a gun to kill me she wish. That’s what love does to a man—makes him weak in the best and worst ways.  

"Abbu se milne jaana hai," she said quietly, her voice trembling.  

I slammed the brakes, causing the car to screech to a halt. The three cars following us also stopped abruptly.  

The intercom buzzed. "Sir, is everything fine? Any alert?"  

"Everything is fine. Except her mind," I muttered, pressing the answer button before disconnecting it. Only she heard the last part.  

"No," I said firmly, turning to face her. But before I could argue further, she surprised me by climbing onto my lap.  

"Dalia," I warned, my voice low and serious.  

She ignored me and wrapped her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest. Her voice was muffled when she spoke, but her words hit me like a punch.  

"I have questions for him. Please. Woh mere Abbu hain, Rafiq. Ek beti ke roop mein mujhe yeh jaanna hai ki meri jagah unki zindagi mein kya hai."  

Her words cut through my anger. She wasn’t wrong—she deserved answers. The man hadn’t even tried to save her during the worst time of her life, yet now he was living comfortably with Ursh and Dilroz, as if nothing had happened. Not one call to Dalia. I knew how much it hurt her; I could see it in her eyes every day.  

I sighed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as I hugged her. "Theek hai," I whispered, my tone laced with resignation.  

Without another word, I started the car again and drove toward her father’s house.

I drove steadily with one hand, toward her father’s haveli, Dalia sitting on my lap wrapped in my other arm, her delicate fingers toying absentmindedly with the buttons of my shirt. 

She seemed lost in thought, her brows furrowed, lips pursed in concentration. Her soft ass touch stirred my cock awake and my evil mind groaned to remove her pant and fuck her warm cunt and fill it with my cum, but I kept my focus on the road, my grip firm on the steering wheel.  

As we arrived at the gate of the house, I stepped out of the car with her in my arms. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson when she noticed the guards’ eyes on us. She clutched the fabric of my shirt tighter, trying to hide her face.  

I shot a sharp glare at the guards, silently warning them. 

They lowered their gazes immediately, knowing well enough not to cross me. Everyone knew the consequences of provoking Rafiq Ali Zaveri.  

We reached the main door, and before I could knock, it creaked open to reveal her father. His face was pale, his gaze flickering nervously between me and his daughter. 

As I looked up, I caught sight of Dilroz on the first-floor balcony. Her terrified face peered down at me, dark circles accentuating her hollow eyes.  

She gasped and retreated quickly, slamming the door of her room shut.  

“Bevkuf,” I muttered under my breath. If I wanted to kill her, no locked door could stop me.  

“Abbu,” Dalia’s soft voice broke the tension. Despite her trembling hands, her tone was steady. Tears glistened in her eyes, mirroring the ones in her father’s.  

“Dalia…” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and unease.  

I stood back, silently observing as Dalia stepped forward. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her. She wanted to hug him—her posture screamed of longing—but she held herself back, trying to maintain her composure.  

“Main aapse kuch sawaal karne aayi hoon,” she said, her voice firm but laced with an underlying vulnerability.  

Her father’s eyes widened in shock, unused to her cold demeanor. I, however, knew how hard it was for her to summon this courage.  

“Beta, yeh kya tareeqa hai baat karne ka?” he tried to assert authority, but his voice faltered.  

I took a step forward, ready to intervene, but Dalia’s soft touch on my palm stopped me. Her calming presence was all I needed to pull back.  

“Jab beti mehfuz nahi ki gayi, toh tareeqa kyun maine rakhoon?” she shot back, her voice trembling slightly. 

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. The shy, hesitant girl who once hid behind others was now standing her ground.  

Her father was momentarily stunned, unable to respond. After a tense pause, Dalia turned to me and whispered, “Mujhe unse akele baat karni hai.”  

I frowned, reluctant to leave her alone with him, but her lips brushed against my palm in a reassuring kiss. Against my better judgment, I nodded.  

“Main yahin hoon,” I reminded her, my voice low but firm.  

I waited in the living room, every muscle in my body tense. Upstairs, I could hear the faint sound of footsteps—Dilroz and Ursh, no doubt lingering out of sight.  

After few minutes, Dalia returned. Her steps were steady, her head held high, but her chin wobbled slightly—a crack in her otherwise calm exterior. I stood immediately, scanning her for any sign of distress.  

Her father followed her, his face streaked with tears.  

“Chalein,” Dalia said sharply, her voice tinged with anger. She grabbed my hand and began pulling me toward the door.  

I was too stunned to speak but let her drag me along. Something had happened—something that had clearly upset her.  

As we settled into the car, I finally asked, “Kya hua?”  

Instead of answering, she shot her own question at me.  

“Ammi ne kya wada liya tha aapse, Rafiq?” Her voice was accusatory, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.  

I froze, my hands tightening around the steering wheel. So, she knew. That man told her. 

“Aur kitne jhooth bayaan kiye gaye hain mujhe?” she demanded, her voice rising as she slammed her hand against the dashboard.  

“Dalia, apne aap ko chot mat pahunchao,” I said, reaching for her hand, but she yanked it away.  

“Par aap sab ne jhooth bola mujhse! Dadajaani, Abbu, aur aap bhi!” she sobbed, her voice breaking.  

“I didn’t want to force you,” I explained, cupping her cheek gently. “Main chahta tha humara rishta natural ho.”  

She shook her head, her eyes filled with anguish. “Lekin aapne mujhe sirf iss liye chuna kyunki meri Ammi ki aakhri khawahish thi ke mujhe mehfuz aur khush rakhein… Aapka aur Dadajaani ka unse wada tha.”  

“You think I want you because of a promise?” I cut her off, pressing my forehead against hers.  

“Rafiq Ali Zaveri tumhare liye aashiq hai, sheedai hai aur dil-o-jaan se chaahta hai, Dalia. Koi wada mere jazbat ka sabab(reason) nahi ho sakta,” I confessed, my voice raw with emotion.  

She broke down, burying her face in my chest. “Hum kamzor dil hai… hum aapki tarah zor awar (powerful) nahi,” she whispered.  

“Phir main zor Awar hoon. Hum dono ek doosre ke hum nasheen (close partners) banegein,” I promised, my voice fierce with determination.  

She punched my chest lightly, her frustration evident. 

“Aap itne ache kyun hain?”  

“Sirf tumhare liye, babydoll,” I murmured, sealing my words with a kiss.  

When we broke apart, she sighed, her face still streaked with tears. 

“Main unhe maaf karti hoon. Unhone mujhe bachaya nahi kyunki wo aapse darte hain. Dilroz ko isliye chuna kyunki wo jaante hain aap usse nafrat karte ho.”  

I nodded, staying silent. Her forgiveness didn’t matter to me; only she did.  

Her tinted lips and flushed cheeks didn't help my cock and it throbbed inside to have her. 

Frustrated by my desires, I groaned and drove to the nearest hotel I owned. She raised a brow, catching on to my intentions.  

“Lekin… mere ayaam (periods)…” she began hesitantly.  

“Sex eases the pain. Maine research kiya hai. Let’s go,” I said, my desperation evident as I captured her lips in another kiss.  

Sweeping her into my arms, I signaled for the guards to stay back. Taking the private backstairs, I carried her to the top penthouse, our lips never parting. Kicking open the door, I placed her gently on the bed, my heart pounding as I gazed at the woman who had become my entire world.

Unbuckling my belt, I removed it and she removed her kameez with blush coating her cheeks. 

Moving out of my pants, I removed my inner wear and she came face to a red throbbing veiny cock. 

"Open your mouth." I brought cock closer, and she put her tongue out to lick the tip, I was watching her intently. 

Without warning I shoved myself into my mouth, 

she gagged when cock hit the back of her throat. 

"Ohhh bhenchod ahhhh fuckkk choke on my cock slut ahhh ahhh pura chus ache se." 

I moaned at warmness of her mouth and she hissed, the vibration going through my cock. 

I started picking up a pace, my hand was in her hair, pushing her head closer.

I moaned and grunted quietly, and pulled out, giving her the chance to breathe. 

"Meri pyari randi. Pura muh mei lekar chus rahi hai" 

I caressed her cheek as she caught her breath again. 

"Tere nipples bhi chusunga meri randi. Bra utar apni" I said and she nodded while removing it. I threw it away and mashed her boob in my hand. 

"Bol...maalik mera dudh chus lo" I demanded and she shook her head in shyness

"Bol warna bhut chodunga tujhe Dalia. You are my slut in bed. Say it!" I said spanking her boobs. 

"Me...ra dudh chus lijiye maalik" she whispered and latched on it. She moaned and gripped my hair. 

"Itne motte chuche hai meri randi ke. Ummmmm chod kar tujhe ammi banunga fir humare bache dudh piyenge tere chuche se saali ummmmm" i sucked hard while she kept saying my name like a prayer. 

I spanked her pussy and removed her pant with panties. 

She was mess from blood. And I cleaned it using tissue. 

She was extremely wet, all I wanted was to feel her cunt.

"Kutiya bano baby. Piche se chut chodunga aaj tumhari" I spanked her bare pussy and she nodded desperately. 

Spanking her ass three four times, I positioned my cock at her opening. 

"Ahhhhh rafiq ummmmm ek dum andar daal dia aahhhh ahhhh" she said when I pushed cock in one go

"Ahhhhh meri randi ummm abhi toh chut mei gusa hi naii hai. Ahhhh adha hi gaya hai ummm ahhhh" I picked up the pace and started pounding in her. 

"Ahhhj ahhhh ahh jhad jaao randi ahhhh mere lund par hi nikalo apna ras ahhhhh ahhh" i moaned and fucked her while gripping her hair

"Ummm ahhhh it...ni jor se kar ra...he hai app" she hissed and her legs tremble

"Tumhe acha nahi lag raha ahhhh toh ruk jata hu hmmmm" I teased her amd she shook her head in no. 

"Greedy little slut. Ahhhh itni choti chut mote lund se chudne mei maja aata hai tujhe raand ahhhh fadta hu teri chut ko mai aaj ahhhh" I spanked her ass and her body shook amd she released a warm gush of blood onto my pussy. 

"Ahhhh soo good baby ummmm itni garam ho tum ahhhh" I grunted and left her hair and hugged her from back. 

"Ahhh rafiq dheere ummmm bed hil raha hai ahhhh ahhhh bhot hhh ahhhh" she moaned and I increased my speed. 

"Ab dheere nahi hoga meri randi ahhhh subha se tadap raha hai mera lund abhhhhh ab ruka nahi jata ahhh ahhhh" I pushed inside then out while she moaned. 

"Ummmm pura daal dei aaahhhh aapne ahhhhh" she cried when I pushed more of my cock in her small bloody cunt. 

"Ahhh pura andar jayenga tabhi toh tum ahhhh peit se ho jaogi" I said and gave her powerful thrusts and reached near her clit to rub it. 

"Ahhhj ahhhh chue nahhhh ahhhhh mera aaa jayegaaaa ahhhhh rafiqqq" she couldn't control herself and cummed again. 

Thrusting inside her in same position I drew five times of orgasm from her. Her body was falling on bed while I gaped her hole. 

"Keep coming my slut. Ahhhhh give me your blood and cum ahhhhh warm my cock ahhhhh" I increased my pace while her eyes rolled back

"Ahhhh ahhh rafiq dheeme ummm ahhhh" she said driving her high

"Ahhh mera maal aaahhh nikelga tumhare andar ahhhhh bhar dunga tumhari chut ahhhhh" I grunted and veins in my cock where bursting from her tightness. 

I fucked her deep and slow for little pushes. 

"Andar tak ahhhh le mera lumd randi meri ahhhhh" I grunted 

"N...aaah kare eessaaa ahhhhhh ummmm bhot jyda bhar dete hai aaap ahhhhh" she complained and I chuckled. 

"Itn..e ache se chudti ho tum mujhse ummmmm pure lund ka juice nikal deti ho tum ummmmm" I groaned feeling her blood dripping down on bed after travelling through my cock. 

"Ahhhhh ummmmm meraaaa ahhhhh aaa rha ahai ummm ahhhhh" she cummed again while falling on bed. 

I chuckled seeing her tired body and decided to fill her pussy with a load of cum and gave myself satisfaction. 

Taking her in my arms, I stood up and she wrapped her hands around my neck kissing my lips. 

"Andar lo mera lund." I said and she used her hand to put my rod in her while moaning. 

"Ahhhh ahhh rafiqqq ahhhhhh ummmm" 

"Maja aa rha hai na bhenchodd ahhhhh apne cousin se chudte hue maja aata hai na tumhe randi ahhhhhh" she moaned a yes and I thrusted inside her ready to empty my load 

"Take it my slut ahhhhhh take your cousin's cock. Roj chudo mere lund se ahhhhh Don ki randi ban gayi ho tum toh ahhhh" I jerked her by giving full thrusts in her cunt hole. 

"Ahhhhh rafiqqqq unmmmmm ahhhh appppl ahhhh mere andar ....." She said and I kissed her lips spitting inside her mouth. 

"Tumhare muh mei bhi ras daalunga kisi din aaaaahhh aaj tumhari chut ko bharne doh ahhhhh daliaaaa aahhhhh" I grunted loudly and she held my hair as I felt her walls tightening around me. 

"Cum with me slut!!!!! Ahhhhhh geela ka mujhe ahhhh mere lund ka ras lo apne andar ahhhhhhh daaaaliaaaaa !!" We both groaned as I filled her cunt that overflowed her hole. 

I placed her on floor near bed. 

"Madarchod ahhh" I pumped my cock having blood while she stood with a lot of my cum dripping down her pussy.

"Ummm sara niche gir gaya" she gasped and murmured. I chuckled at her cuteness. 

"It's okay baby slut. Let's take a bath" I kissed her head and took her bridal style in shower to clean ourself. 

She was wearing clothes while I came out of bathroom. 

Removing the bedsheet and cleaning the floor with it. 

I packed it in a polythene before Dalia could see and told one of the guard to put in my personal car. Dropping her tired self at haveli safely, I went for warehouse work.

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Longest chapter ever 🥺