Chapter 53 #2
She grinned, getting his mouth. Amaal let him push her back, let his tongue dominate hers, flowed with him as he kissed her.
And then, abruptly, he was up, striding away from her.
She sat up, shocked, when she saw him unbutton his shirt.
Amaal gaped, unblinking, as the shirt fell and his back was revealed to her.
Completely. For the first time. Without her asking.
The skin glowed in the lamplight, melted, now more firm because he was also building muscle. The red streaks had now turned whiter. It could be a hideous sight for anybody else. For her, it was the sight of life.
Samar turned, and she saw his chest. Not as melted as his back, but patchy with burns.
She had seen it, but not like this — not without asking for it.
He took his steps towards her, and her heartbeat shot up.
She couldn’t foresee where this was going, equal parts exited and scared.
And then he was in front of her, the waistband of his pants in front of her eyes.
Where men had happy trails, he had melted skin disappearing into his waistband.
Her fingers rose to touch him, then stopped.
“Unbuckle my belt.”
Amaal glanced up.
He was staring at her, dark eyes intense behind those specs. She swallowed. She wanted to confirm if he was sure but her fingers had a mind of their own. They began to unbuckle his belt, the clank of metal doing things to her that should be embarrassing at this age.
“Take it off.”
She pulled his belt off. And waited, fingers frozen mid-air over his button.
“Do it.”
Amaal unsnapped the button and slowly pulled the zipper down.
He wasn’t tenting like he once used to, but she could see the outline, feel the bulge over the back of her hand.
She caressed it, then stopped. Samar’s hands rose, and he pushed the waistband down enough to pull himself out and the first thing she saw were the pale welts across the skin.
His oldest scars. Testament to his life’s other strongest survival. Her fingers again moved, then stilled.
“Don’t stop.” He said.
And she took him in her hands, feeling like the most powerful woman in the world when he inhaled.
She stroked him, and felt every ridge, every scar, every memory that he had called hideous and spent a lifetime burning.
Amaal stared up at him and his head was thrown back, his breath heavy, eyes on her through his specs.
She squeezed. And his mouth dropped open.
“Does it hurt?”
He shook his head.
“I want to do something.”
He blinked, fear and uncertainty, then resignation. And then he said four words that would make her wait for him not for one or two years but for the rest of eternity.
“I am all yours.”
Amaal put her mouth on him and his hand instantly bunched in her hair. “Amaal!” It was a gasp, a pleasurable gasp.
She smirked, sitting back — “I told you I’ve learned to stroke well.”
His hand grabbed her hair and wound it in his fist. She gasped. He tugged her head back — “And I told you that when you learn to stroke mine, you will unlearn everything else.”
He used his other hand to circle hers, tightening her hold on him. He squeezed, and pushed her fingers roughly up. Amaal felt her mouth pool with saliva, the movements of their hands rough and hard and jerky, his black eyes beady and commanding and controlling as he set the rhythm.
And then he pushed her head back down and she had never loved anything more.
He wasn’t there yet, his erection didn’t stiffen like it should have, but he opened himself and let her see this side of him that most men would die before showing a woman.
And Amaal remembered why she fell in love with him in the first place.
Because his commitment was always complete, never half.
His loyalty was always unending, never expired.
Because his surrender was always in his domination.
She felt him harden and he pulled her head back, their eyes catching again. Amaal smirked — “Lesson over?”
“Don’t force me,” he gritted. “I won’t last.”
“Then don’t.” She gave him one firm stroke just like he had taught her, flashing him her dimpled smile. And he was coming in her hands, folding over until he held himself with one palm on the sofa behind her and kissing her like his life depended on it.
“Fuck, you can end me.” His knees straddled her as he took his breaths in her neck. Amaal panted with him, turning her head and pressing her lips into his neck — “Happily, when your time is up.”
She could feel his smile. And then he was turning them over, pulling her top off and making her straddle him — all in one moment.
“Hey! You are still building muscle.”
“Quiet.” He unsnapped her jeans button and thrust her over his softening groin. “I can lift one of you.”
Amaal burst out laughing and he thrust up. She stopped. His fingers went inside her and slipped right through. She stopped breathing.
“Oooooh!”
“Quiet.”
“You can’t do that and ask me…” he pushed her head into his neck and thrust his fingers up again.
Her teeth bit into his skin as he pressed harder, pushing her head harder.
Her body didn’t remain in her control, like it never had when he was around.
Amaal jerked and swayed in a wave over his hand, gasping, panting, biting into his shoulder.
And burst out of her own darkness into bright light.
She was scared she’d draw blood. But that was just a passing thought as he gripped her head and held it against his shoulder.
And she rode the waves on his fingers, feeling every muscle in her body go limp.
Then jerk. Then go limp again. But it never quite relaxed.
Even after a long time had passed, her stomach kept jerking, like electric currents popping.
“What is happening…” she breathed, finally feeling the dent in his shoulder under her chin. The skin was already melted, the scars wrinkled. And she had bitten into them.
“Samar!” She pulled back, running her fingers over the marks. She couldn’t even make out where she had bit in her madness. “You should have stopped me!”
When he did not say anything, she looked at his face. He was smiling. His specs were still on, and he was smiling at her through them.
“The skin must still be tender… even if you don’t have sensation.”
“I have sensation.” He caught her hand on his shoulder. “And I felt every edge of your teeth.”
She glared.
“Just not as deep as you think.”
She sighed.
“Come here now.” He toppled her again until she was curled in his lap and resting her head on his chest. There was a mess between them. But she would worry about that later. His sofa… much later.
Amaal lay there, quiet, her head going up and down with his deep breaths.
“This is so good.” She murmured. “Why can’t we be this forever?”
“We will.”
“Will we?”
“We will.”
She set her palm on his chest, touching from the smooth sternum to the burnt pectoral. “You let me touch you.”
“I also let you stroke me.”
She smiled, now embarrassed by how she had pounced on him the moment he had let her.
“I am still not fully there. The medicines have finally stopped. Some erectile function has recovered. Time should do its job for the rest.”
Amaal looked up and he dipped his chin.
“You are the bravest man I have ever met.”
“Bullshit.”
“You have broken down so many walls between us.”
His forehead met hers. And their eyes fell closed.
“I am sorry you have to go through all this with me.”
“It will be worth it.” She said, feeling his words inside her and leaving hers inside him. “You are right. My children deserve their father at their best. And as their mother, I will build what I came to build here, too.”
“Hmm?” He pulled back, smirking.
“I have to buy that house and hammock for them.”
“For yourself.” He pinched her nose. She went to slap his hand and he took it off, making her slap her own nose. “Samaar!”
He laughed.
“Yes, for myself first. Their Mom will enjoy on the hammock and then pass it on to them.”
“What do you think about this house?”
“It’s good, but the one I buy will be better.”
“What’s the plan on that?”
“I told you about my savings. Atharva and Qureshi have helped me invest over the years. I sent a chunk to Dad for investments there. It’s going to be good in conversion.
At this point, I am comfortable enough to start looking for a small bungalow in a decent locality.
But I want a bigger one, with a big garden… ”
“See which one you like, I will add the rest…”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because I want to buy it.”
“Amaal…”
“I want to buy it. End of argument.”
“It’s not an argument.”
“Then end of topic.”
“Why don’t you want me to add the money? It will still be in your name.”
She shook her head.
“Look here.”
She raised her eyes at his command.
“What is it?”
She frowned. “It was what I came here to do. If I can’t do that also, after almost a decade, then what did I even do?”
He stared at her, as if he wanted to say something more. But did not. He was maturing, Amaal grinned.
“So, it’s decided. By October 2019, you will be ready to be my husband and the Dad to my children and I will get a house for us.”
He kept staring at her, then quietly promised — “Decided.”