Aashiq (9) (18+)

 

**Dalia's POV**  

The first thing I noticed the next morning was the absence of my ashiq beside me. The bed felt cold. He was nowhere to be found.  

My body protested as I tried to sit up. My legs were heavy, my muscles sore, reminded me of the passion we had shared. 

Beside the bed, a small gesture of his care awaited me—a few tablets, a steaming cup of tea, and a sticky note in his unmistakable cursive handwriting.  

"Take the medicine for pain."

That was all he had written. No warmth, no endearment, just a instruction. I could almost hear the anger simmering beneath those words, his silence loud.   

I knew he was furious, and he had every right to be. My reckless escape had put me in danger, and worse, I had made a deal to free Dilroz, a woman who had wronged me deeply.  

But it had been the right decision. Dilroz had been punished for her deeds, and now there was nothing left tying me to her. I felt a strange peace settle over me, a peace I hadn’t known in years.  

My mother’s voice echoed in my mind, from the dream I had seen last night. She had told me I would find *sukoon*. And now I knew—my *sukoon* was my Rafiq.  

Summoning my strength, I got out of bed and stepped into the bathroom. The hot shower was both a relief and a reminder of the lingering ache. When I emerged, wrapped in a soft pastel cotton suit—no doubt something Rafiq had thoughtfully bought for me that morning—I felt a little more like myself.  

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. My heart leapt, hoping it was him, but when I opened it, I was met with the respectful bow of the guard Rafiq had assigned to me.  

"Subah Bakhair, Khatoon,"he greeted, his eyes respectfully lowered.  

"Subah Bakhair," I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips.  

He informed me that he would drive me to a nearby designer boutique to meet Anisa and prepare for tomorrow's Eid celebration. I nodded, grabbing the leftover cash and phone—my only belongings since I had arrived.  

As I turned back to glance at the room, my cheeks flushed at the sight of the disheveled bed. The memories of last night surged back, igniting a warmth that spread from my chest to my cheeks. I quickly stripped the bed of its sheets and threw them in the garbage. No maid should have to clean that.  

Stepping outside, I noticed the sleek car waiting for me, with another following closely behind. One guard drove, while another two followed for security.  

The drive to the boutique took twenty minutes. My mind wandered to Rafiq—his intense eyes, his firm yet gentle hands, his silent anger. A part of me ached to see him, to explain myself, to seek his forgiveness.  

As the car pulled up in front of the boutique, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the day ahead. Tomorrow was Eid, a day of celebration for us. 

As I descended the stairs, the head guard called out to me.  

"Khatoon," his deep voice echoed softly in the quiet corridor.  

I paused mid-step and turned toward him. 

"Jee?" I asked, curious.  

He stepped forward, holding out a small bag.  

"Aapke liye yakhni pulao aur paani," he said, his tone formal yet kind.  

I hesitated, unsure about accepting food from him. Sensing my reluctance, he quickly added, "Bade Nawab ne bheja hai." 

At the mention of Rafiq, my cheeks flushed, and I accepted the bag with a small, shy smile. How considerate of him, even in his silence.  

Before I could dwell on the gesture further, a loud voice interrupted my thoughts.  

"Dalia!!! Muhtarma!!!"  

I looked up to see Anisa at the top of the stairs, waving frantically like a child. But in her excitement, she accidentally knocked over a decorative vase, sending it crashing to the floor.  

The sharp sound of shattering glass made everyone freeze.  

Anisa, however, looked completely unfazed. 

"Oops," she muttered, glancing at the mess. 

"Waise, yeh log vase aisi jagah rakhte kyun hain? Dekha na gir gaya ab! Yeh unki galti hai jo yahan rakha tha," she started chattering. 

The woman who came over to scold her looked ready to cry herself, overwhelmed by Anisa's energy.  

I sighed and stepped forward, offering an apologetic smile. "Mujhe maaf kar dijiye," I said softly, trying to smooth things over before grabbing Anisa by the arm and pulling her inside the boutique.  

The boutique was breathtaking, with rows of intricately designed lehengas, shararas, and suits in every imaginable shade—bright, pastel, and everything in between. Each piece seemed more exquisite and expensive than the last.  

Anisa, of course, took it all in stride. "Lagta hai tum yahan pehli baar aayi ho," she teased, noticing my wide-eyed admiration.  

I nodded, still mesmerized by the vibrant collection.  

"Yeh collection nayi aayi hai! Aaj jee bhar ke shopping karenge—yay!!!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air, completely ignoring the startled looks of the staff.  

Interestingly, they didn’t seem angry. Instead, they looked slightly fearful, as if Anisa’s had the power to break more than just vases.  

She led me to a private room with a plush couch, a large mirror, and two spacious fitting rooms. What followed was a whirlwind of trying on dress after dress, each one more stunning than the last.  

But none of them felt right. 

No matter how beautiful the outfit, my reflection felt incomplete. I realized it wasn’t the dress—it was me. I missed him.  

I missed the way his intense eyes would follow me when I tried something on, the changes in his eyes and expression revealing whether he approved or not. His eyes would either soften with a hint of admiration or darken wity lust with an intensity that made my heart race.  

Now, without him, every dress felt dull, every moment lacked its spark.  

"Dalia, tumhara dhyan kahaan hai?" Anisa’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. She was holding up another lehenga, her excitement showing. 

I forced a smile, but my heart wasn’t in it. It was with him. Wherever he was.  

I sulked as I tried on one dress after another, but nothing felt right. My heart wasn’t in it, not after everything that had happened. Anisa, however, had chosen a dress for herself.  

"Tumhe toh kuch pasand hi nahi aa raha" Anisa remarked dramatically, flopping down onto the sofa after what felt like hours of endless shopping.  

I pursed my lips. To make her happy, I finally decided to go along with whatever she wanted.  

But just as I was about to agree, two staff members entered the room, holding a covered dress. They called my name, and my heart skipped a beat.  

"Dalia Khatoon?" they asked, glancing at each other as if unsure.  

Anisa lazily pointed at me, her voice muffled from where she lay. "She is," she said, her tone filled with playful indifference.  

One of the staff ladies looked at me carefully, then asked, *"Dalia Rafiq Ali Zaveri?" Her gaze flickered over my simple clothes, an almost disapproving and judging look in her eyes.  

A shiver ran down my spine at the mention of his name. My stomach dropped, and I felt an odd flutter of butterflies. His name was attached to me now, whether I liked it or not.  

Anisa, oblivious to my internal turmoil, shot back with a sharp edge to her voice. "Aapko sunne mein pareshani hai kya? Maine bola toh yahin hai."

The lady nodded. Without another word, she gestured toward the fitting room, urging me to try on the dress.  

But Anisa wasn’t having it. She sat up, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "Pehle mujhe dikhaao, kon si dress hai yeh?" she demanded.  

The staff members, began to remove the black cover from the dress. What they revealed left both Anisa and me breathless.  

"Sir ne dress design kiye hai, Miss Dalia ke liye. Unhone humein yeh dress dikhane ke liye bola, kyunki Miss Dalia ko koi aur dress pasand nahi aayi."

The lady explained in a professional tone, but the words barely registered as I stared at the gown.  

The dress... It was the same blue gown from that dreadful day—the one that had been ruined by the blood of Dilroz. The memories came flooding back, sharp and vivid. The chaos, the pain, the blood.  

Who is ‘Sir’? I wanted to ask. The question burned on the tip of my tongue, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. 

"Oh Khuda! Dalia ka pasandida dress, woh bhi itna amazing! Wah, Rafiq bhaijaan toh chaah gaye," Anisa exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if she had just witnessed a miracle. Her animated voice pulled me out of my daze, and I blinked, still overwhelmed.  

She practically dragged me to the fitting room, where she helped me try on the dress. The moment I looked in the mirror, I froze. It fit me perfectly, as if it had been made just for me.  

I didn’t know how he had figured out that I hadn’t liked anything here, or how he had managed to recreate this dress. But one thing was clear—he cared about my happiness in a way no one else ever had before.  

Anisa and I shopped for some matching jewelry, her excitement undying, but as we reached the billing counter, a knot of unease formed in my stomach. I didn’t have even 100 rupees on me, let alone the 5 lakh rupee bill we had racked up.  

I furrowed my brows, turning to Anisa. "Anisa? Bill pay nahi karogi?" I asked hesitantly.  

She laughed, a carefree sound that made me feel even more clueless. "Nahi, meri baby. Bill toh Rafiq bhaijaan pay karenge. After all, yeh unka business venture hai."

Her words struck me like lightning. What? *He* owned this boutique? *He* was paying for all this?  

"Mai toh shopping karne bhi unhi ke kehne par aayi thi," she continued, walking out of the shop as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "Unhone kaha tha tumhe company de du aur jo chaaho woh kharid loon."

I trailed behind her, feeling like a lost puppy. She turned back briefly, flashing a mischievous grin. "Aur shopping ka mauqa mai jaane deti nahi," she added, hugging me tightly before heading to the car waiting outside.  

One of the guards opened the car door for her, and she slid in effortlessly. "Thank you, muhtarma. Aapki wajah se meri shopping ho gayi," she teased, her laughter echoing in the air.  

I smiled faintly, about to climb in with her, but my assigned guard interrupted.  

"We have to go to another destination, Khatoon. It's Bade Nawab's order," he informed me, his voice firm but respectful.  

Anisa whistled playfully, her teasing gaze making my cheeks flush. I ignored her antics, bidding her goodbye as she waved dramatically from her car.  

The next few minutes were spent in quiet anticipation as the car made its way to a towering glass building. Its sleek design and shimmering golden lights left me awestruck.  

I guessed it was his office.  

As I stepped out of the car, the guards immediately surrounded me, their presence commanding attention from passersby. I felt their protective circle tighten around me as they escorted me inside.  

One of them swiped a card at the entrance, and the glass doors slid open silently. I stepped in, my breath catching at the sight. Everything was expensive, the golden lights casting a warm, luxurious glow over the marble floors and modern décor.  

My heart raced, unsure of what awaited me inside. One thought lingered in my mind—why had Rafiq called me here?  

Not liking the attention from the passersby, I asked the guards to maintain some distance. They nodded but continued to follow. 

We entered a lift marked as Private, the polished steel walls reflecting our silhouettes. No one else was allowed inside. 

When it stopped, the guards stood near the lift, motioning toward the hall and directing me to enter the door on the right. His name was engraved elegantly on the plate outside, making my heart race.  

"Go ahead," one of the guards said, their tone gentle yet firm.  

I nodded, walking toward the door, leaving them behind. My gaze swept over the corridor, noticing two other rooms—one appeared to be a conference room filled with chairs and a sleek projector.  

Just as I neared the door, a woman stepped out of the his office room. She was striking, her red dress clinging to her figure as though it had been painted on. Her sharp heels clicked against the marble floor, and the frown on her face deepened as her eyes landed on me.  

"Who are you? And who allowed you here?" she demanded in English, her voice dripping with accusation.  

I hesitated, her piercing tone throwing me off guard. "Umm... I... am..." I stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence in English.  

She laughed, the sound laced with arrogance. 

"Agar bolna nahi aata toh why try, huh? Go back to your work, maid. Don’t wander near the boss’s office." 

Her words cut through me like a blade, and she punctuated them by snapping her fingers near my face.  

I opened my mouth to protest, the insult stinging too much to ignore, but before I could speak, his voice echoed through the corridor.  

"Dalia."

The sound of his voice—deep, commanding, and manly—sent a shiver down my spine. It held the kind of authority that could silence a crowd, and yet, it carried a warmth that made my heart race.  

The lady turned toward him, and my breath hitched. He stood there, his presence larger than life, dressed in a crisp white kurta that set him apart from the usual business suits around us. He looked effortlessly regal, the simple attire highlighting his sharp features and broad shoulders. I had always liked him in kurtas; they made him look less like a Nawab and more like the man who had claimed my heart.  

"You were dismissed, Miss Ridha," he said coldly, his eyes not even sparing her a glance.  

I realized, then, that both Ridha and I were staring at him. But unlike me, her gaze lingered too long, filled with something that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.  

"Right. I was just going. See you tomorrow," she said, her confidence unwavering. Her red lips curved into a smile, and her eyes glimmered with emotions she didn’t bother to hide.  

She definitely liked him.  

My heart sank as I watched her walk away, her hips swaying confidently, the red dress accentuating her curves.  

"Andar chalo," he ordered abruptly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for me, he turned and walked inside.  

I followed, my mood sour. As soon as I stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind me, and before I could process what was happening, I found myself pressed against it.  

"I missed you, jaanam," he murmured, his deep voice sending a wave of heat through me.  

Before I could respond, his lips crashed onto mine with a hunger that left me breathless. My thoughts jumbled, my body reacting instinctively as I kissed him back.  

But then, I caught a whiff of her scent lingering on him—Ridha’s perfume. It clung faintly to his kurta, but it was enough to pull me out of the moment.  

I broke the kiss, pushing him back slightly.  

"Roka kyun?"he hissed, his irritation evident as his dark eyes bore into mine.  

My own eyes turned glossy with unshed tears. 

"Woh..."I tried to explain, but my voice faltered.  

He grabbed my chin, tilting my face upward to meet his gaze. His smirk was infuriatingly confident.  

"You think you’re special to me?" he asked, his words slicing through me like shards of glass.  

My heart shattered.  

"Poor baby," he mocked, wiping away a tear that escaped. 

I stared at him, my thoughts spiraling. Did he cheat on me with her?  

"Tum jaise mujhe bohot mil sakti hai, Dalia," he continued arrogantly, walking me toward his desk. With one swift motion, he kicked away the two chairs in front of it, the sound echoing in the room.  

"Tumse achi bhi bohot saari mil sakti. Jaise Ridha," he taunted, his voice a low whisper against my ear as he stood behind me.  

I clenched my fists, my entire body trembling with a mix of anger, heartbreak, and disbelief.  

His hands traveled to caress my waist then upwards to my nipples. 

"Ummm" i moaned when he stretched them. 

"Par mere lund ko tumhari hi chut chodni hai" he said and I gasped because he tore my kameez from middle again and bra falling off on floor. 

"Ra..fiq ummmm ahhh" he pushed me on his desk, making me sprawled on it and my ass pressing against his thick cock, that was aroused. 

He slapped a hand on my ass and cold desk scratched my nipples. 

"Jaise tum meri ho...." He started trailing kisses on my naked back rising goosebumps. 

"Waise hi mai tumhara" he completed and tore my plazzo from middle, baring ass to me. 

He confirmed he was not cheating on me indirectly. And I believed him. Reassurance was all I needed. 

"Ummm ra...fiq offi...ce?" I tried to say but my body was betraying me and he pushed two fingers inside my vagina together. 

"Itna sharam lihaz hai toh chut gilli kyu ho rakhi hai tumhari babydoll, randi ki tarah?" He asked pumping his fingers inside me. 

"Ahhh ummm nahi" I said but he slapped my ass, making it jiggle. 

"Tumhare kehne se mai rukunga nahi. Aakhir Maalik hu tumhara" he said mocking tone and eyes rolled back and without any restrain I cummed on his fingers. 

"Meri pyari kutiya. Meri ungliyon par jhad gayi." He said licked his fingers clean. 

"Sheeshe.... dek...h le..ga koi" I said in fear but he chuckled and his big palm kept me in pushing position on desk. 

While his other hand, he removed his kurta and payjama. And he rubbed his girth on my wet folds. 

"Dekhne doh fir. Sabko pata chal jayega ki kon hai tumhara maalik. Aur tumhe bhaagne ka sabk bhi toh chahiye" he said, flashing a hand on my ass turning it red. 

"Hilao inhe. Andar daalo mere lund ko" he said and placed his tip on my opening. 

"Par.... Ahhhh" I objected but he held my hair in a fist pulling it. 

"Mujhe mana karogi tum? Zyda himmat badh gayi hai tumhari Dalia?" He asked his eyes turning impatient. 

"Khud ka sauda kia hai tumne. Jo bolunga karo woh." He said reminding me of our deal. 

"Hilao apne pichwade aur andar lo mera lund warna aesa chodunga ki subah ki tarah bistar se uthoge nahi" he warned and I nodded and slowly moved back taking it inside me. 

We both groaned at tightness amd warmness. 

"Aur nahi aaahhhh aa raha" I said not able to take it fully in me. 

"Ummm ahhh mai daal deta hu. Ahhh" he gritted and gave a hard push spreading my pussy walls wide open. 

"Ahhhhh rafiq!!! Ummm ahhhh" my legs shook feeling his whole girth going in and out without any stopping. 

"Chilla aur babydoll ahhh apne rafiq ke lund ke chillao ahhh aur chudo mere lund se ahhh ahh" he said spanking my ass again and again and I kept feeling him stretch my hole to its capacity. 

"Meri pyari randi ahhhh Dalia. Roj chodunga tumhe babydoll ahhh ahhh hamesha mera lund khada kar deti hu ahhhhhh" 

It was only when he began to move faster that I cried out, biting my fist as he narrowed eyes at me. 

"Apni chikhe mat roko meri randi. Sabko pata lagne doh ahhh ki kya haal kar raha hu mai tumhara aone kumd se ahhhh" 

He moved my hand from mouth, slinging an arm around waist and angling my leg open, around so he could lean his chest against back, hit her g spot as he thrusts from behind.

His hands couldn't control and he spanked everything and marking me like his property. 

My hair? In his fist. My hips? Red turned. 

My breasts? Sucked and bitten by him. 

My breasts moved with each thrust.

I couldn't control myself from his thrusting and released on his penis feeling a little liquid spasming out. 

"Ye..h k...ya tha?" I asked seeing the little liquid on floor and he chuckled leaving my body and taking me on couch. 

"Tum toh mere chodne se mootne lagi babydoll. Aur tumhari chut fadta hu aur zyda" he grunted and his powerful thrusts started gaping my hole from behind. 

I was whining shamelessly under his mercy. His huge body covering mine and thrusts were powerful enough to make me shake. 

"Nikalo mere liye apna moot babydoll. Geela karo mujhe apne paani se ahhhh warma puri raat chudti rahogi mujhse" he said and kissed my lips eating my moaning as his favourite dish. 

Without any delay, I squirt a lot of it and he hurriedly turned me on my back fingering my insides. 

"Ahhhh babydoll moot dohh ohhh fuck!!!" He groaned looking at the fountain I was squirting 

"Ahhhh bas ummm ahhh aur nahi hoga mujhse ahhhh ahhhhh" I whimpered around on couch, trying to break free. 

But he held me in his hold. And came on top of me. And massaged my boobs. 

"Har ek dress ko fadh kar tumhe wahi sabke samne chodne ka mann kar raha tha mera. Itni sundar lag rhi thi tum jaanam." He said and I looked at him wide eyes. 

Was he watching me? As if hearing my thoughts he said, 

"I have eyes on you babydoll. Every fucking second of your life is under my watch" 

The possessiveness grew in his voice and he slipped his shaft back in my hole and pumped it in and out. 

"So beautiful ahhhhhh" he thrusted. 

"So fragile" he molded my boobs

"So small" he spanked choked my throat in his palm

"So tight" he grunted and gave a hard push again. 

"So mine" he declared kissing my lips like a hungry man. 

He pounded in me till I came two more times on his cock amd he was still hard without any sweat on his face. 

"Ahhhhhh mera lund daba rahi ho meri pyari baby doll ahhh ahhhh" he grunted. 

I came again on his cock and didn't come down from high yet, when he flipped around again so that I was on all fours. 

"Tumhe barbaad kar dunga apni Aashiqi mei ahhhh" my nails dug into his skin hard enough to break the surface and felt his body shudder and my pussy clamp around him, screamed as my orgasm hit, making every inch of my body tense and then release as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. 

He drew many orgasms out of me. My body had red handprints from bis spanks and his teeth nibbled my skin with lot of praises. 

"Ba...s bhi k..are" I said trying to stop him but he kissed my lips and chuckled. 

"Abhi nahi ruk sakta. Ahhhh tunhare andar muth barunga ahhhh fir rukunga. Andar tak dalunga. Jaldi baap bana dena mujhe" His fingers on neck sending spikes of pain through body. 

"Jhad jaao mere lund par babydoll ahhh nikal doh apna moot ahhh ahhh madarchod" his fingers around neck tightened I orgasmed again, the scream ripping from throat and  fingers clutching his arms hard. 

"Ahhhhh ahhhhh itne jor se jakd liya ahhhh mera kynd babydoll ahhhhhh bharne wala hu mai andar ahhhh tumahre ahhhhh" with a hard thrust he emptied his seeds deep inside me. 

Thick globs of cum ooze from my pussy when he removed his throbbing cock, and the snug stretch of my hole couldn't held his cum and flowed out. 

He watched it in amazement and later laid down with me on his chest. I was exhausted and eyes were getting closed. 

"I fired that lady" he said playing with my hair and I thought about whom he was saying. 

"The helper in boutique" he reminded me, seeing my face. 

"I saw your face turning sad when she was judging you. No one makes you sad, only I can" he said in his dark tone with sadist thoughts. 

"But---" I tried to say but he patted my hair, allowing me to sleep. 

"Shhhh...just sleep for me. Rest." He said and without any care of world I surrendered in his arm. 

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4122 words omg 😱