I taste of vodka, blood, and gunpowder darlin' @desigurlie - Tumblr Blog

Jun 9

Siren | Ft. Rehmat

Can you catch a glimpse of my love baby? I want so much more of that touch lately

Tags : @hum-suffer @natures-marvel @geometric-circle @multifandom-boss-bitch @akshi-the-nirmata @ramayantika @prahelika @tehmam @daydreams9 @mainyahaankyunhoon @dc-reign @charmie-pie @rehmandakaitswife @nessa41890 @harrystyleskiwi9 @tojisloft @nerdreader @chaotickittydreamer @meavlin-io8 @sparksfromhell @tere-naal-nachna @doresthings @shotsyfeather @strawbxx-blog @tessa-bl @dukh-dard-peeda @golgappalicious @euphorkive @mehfil-e-random @cloudmast @pavbhajisupremacist @patrakilekha @mischiefmanaged666 @abyssalmirageworm @maystella @ishq-e-rehman @sanpiece @tanipartner @sunxister21 @leftmakerpaperpie @antioo @willowsgoldenhour @debsreads21 @cakiebleh @lakshana-ke-lakshan @khoonaurkhanjar @shadylovedhurandhar @prahelika-fics @hyade @allthingsmythology

Word Count: 7K+

A/N:- Looks like you are getting yuri Rehmat before GTA6. Scream with me c'mon. Also Rehman's name is Raahat here. Sorry I lack imagination where names are concerned.

Warning : nsfw content. mature themes. 18+ content

Ulfat Jahaan was bored.

The party was in full swing— the lights patterning over like a multicoloured disco and the people swaying to the roaring and crooning of the music booming inside the illegal club floor and the booze sizzling through their hypercharged veins like ambrosia.

Adaa and Hayat— her friends had deserted her at the bar top for the dance floor and were pretending they were Michael Jackson reborn, their bodies moving against the hollow of two men whose hands roved a little too friendly on their respective waists.

Ulfat was pleasantly buzzed, her long mahogany locks trailing down her waist like the rich flowing waves of the Indus, her creamy breasts were held up by the corset of the champagne coloured glittery dress that had a long high slit almost reaching the start of one scandalously peeking thigh and the defined expanse of her glimmering back was exposed to the club air.

The dress really was holding onto the curves of her alluring figure through sheer will.

Her mile long legs, one crossed stylish and lazy over the other’s knee, were encased in a pair of strappy rose gold Gianvito Rossi and her blood red lips were wrapped around the edge of a straw sticking out of a strawberry daiquiri.

At twenty four, Ulfat Hasin Jahaan was the only daughter of the billionaire shipping and real estate tycoon, Zafar Jahaan and the apple of her older brother, the current presidential candidate, Bilal Jahaan’s spoiled younger sister.

The news channels would kill to get a picture of their very own Princess Diana, half sloshed and shacked up inside a particularly notorious den of hedonistic sin, especially in this part of the town.

But Ulfat was tired of her regular duties and all the pretentious crap the high society threw at each other in the name of strategic diplomacy.

So she said, screw it and joined Adaa and Hayat on their sojourn into sin, bypassing her usual security detail, under the cover of a very important party being hosted in her house, or rather, mansion. Her family would be busy till the next day, trying to satisfy all their high profile guests. No one would even miss her.

But now she was regretting it, simply on the cause of being dead boring.

Dancing and alcohol was fun but the company? Atrocious.

“Oh come on! Look at them..so many options, Ulfat? And no one is catching your eye?”, Adaa had crooned in her ear while gesturing at the so- called diamond studded coterie of the club.

“Pff! All these brainless daddy’s boys with more money than brains? Spare me, please”, Ulfat had sipped on her scotch and giggled noticing another certified burger baccha, trying to catch her eye with increasingly embarrassing overconfidence.

Adaa had gone away after some time, mumbling something about picky-picky, too high standards and snobbish princesses.

She loved Adaa, she really did, but her friend was much too easily pleased as well as annoyed.

No, Ulfat Hasin Jahaan was not going to get seduced by a bunch of wagging tails and hanging dicks with sea kelp between their ears.

As if on cue, the music changed.

“Duniya di sundi na behri jawaani Masti 'ch mastaayi zehri jawaani”

Ulfat sighed and looked to the side and suddenly stopped short.

It felt like her brain had short circuited all of a sudden.

A woman.

Dancing by herself.

There seemed to be an invisible force field around her that was pulling everything within a ten mile radius right into her gravity. Like a collapsing black hole that would swallow everyone and everything into her orbit.

A collapsing nebula.

Yet no one could even graze close to that invisible barrier, as if they might spontaneously combust trying to touch her.

“Raaton ke iraade se kya bachna Maine toh tere naal nachna”

The woman was gyrating to the beats of the song, almost as if the lyrics were written to caress her body as she moved like waves of a dark ocean, the crashing foam glittering aquamarine onto the beach.

Her hair— a dark inky expanse of the sea at midnight, tumbling till mid waist was moving almost hypnotisingly along with her slender but compact silhouette. An obsidian dress, blindingly star studded, hugged her curves and fell in perfect crisp lines down those powerfully built yet graceful legs— almost like the very night sky had embraced her like possessive vines.

The slits on either side suddenly showed a peek of what looked like a black leather holster around one olive toned thigh.

And was that a freaking gun?

There were silver heels sparkling on the dance floor curved perfectly in the arches of her delicate feet.

She was bewitching.

One simply couldn’t take their eyes off her as Ulfat was slowly starting to realise.

She hadn’t even exhaled, letting the air burn inside her lungs since she had first seen her.

Never before has she felt such a magnetic pull towards someone.

The woman turned around once, her raven curls flipping to the side and Ulfat could finally see her face.

“Hone de, hone de raatein suhaani Dekho, puraani na ho yeh jawaani”

Her face was slightly angular, high cheekbones and a chiselled jawline that could probably cut diamonds. Her dress had two straps holding the entire ensemble up and strapping down to a low back that almost showed the dips in her curved hips. The front had a plunge cut showing the curves of her breasts till her navel.

She was wearing a long silver necklace whose pendant hung to the middle of her stomach, bouncing around against all that exposed skin through the precarious valley created by her breasts.

But it was her eyes that had Ulfat finally lifting her jaw off the floor and swallowing back a whimper, hand tightening fractionally against the stem of the long forgotten daiquiri.

“Chalta jawaani pe koi vash na Maine toh tere naal nachna”

The woman had black eyes, framed by a perfect line of liquid kajal and thick lashes. The eclectic colors flashing over them reflected off those volcanic quartz cut irises and hit Ulfat straight in the solar plexus.

She was looking straight at her. Like a predator locked in on her prey. A panthress on a hunt.

There was a slight twist of those dark stained lips in an almost coy, almost mocking smile, a hint of a white incisor, a touch of dimples on those smooth cheeks and Ulfat had to clamp her legs closed.

The moment hung like a fragment in syrup, slowing down to make Ulfat aware of every minute millimeter of distance between her and the charcoal and glitter clad damsel.

Then the woman turned back to her dancing.

Almost like she had shut off every connection to her surroundings and Ulfat was nothing but an insignificant speck in her universe.

She was lost to the world, immersed in the languid movement of a music only she could hear.

With much difficulty, Ulfat tore her eyes away from her and turned towards the bartender attending to the patrons.

“Say…who is that woman on the dance floor there?”, Ulfat gestured a little quickly, without being too conspicuous.

The bartender glanced up and paled once and immediately lowered his eyes. As if, looking at the stranger for too long would get his eyeballs plucked right off.

“That is..the owner of this bar and every illegal bar in the state. She owns Lyari and quite a big chunk of Karachi”, he mumbled almost as if he was hoping she would get the clue and shut up.

Ulfat raised an eyebrow, “She is an industrialist? If she is that influential, I would have known because my brother probably would have had an alliance—”

“Madam.. I.. you don’t know who that is?”, the bartender asked finally, lurching forward and voice almost inaudible under the loud music.

“No. Should I?”, Ulfat replied, a little pretentiously nonchalant but now her curiosity was burning.

“That is the Queen of Lyari, ma’am. They call her the lioness of the Chakkiwara, the Balochi Butcheress, their messiah in all that concerns— that is Raahat Baloch”, the man whispered.

Raahat Baloch Dakait.

Ulfat’s eyes sparkled.

She knew about the infamous gangster queen of Karachi. The only woman heading a full fledged mafia gang on the streets of Lyari and has most of the Karachi underworld in a death choke. Her brother’s political affiliations often overlapped with that of the Baloch leader.

But that could be because, it is said, not a single leaf could move in Lyari without the gangster queen’s permission.

And Karachi’s seat of power was controlled by the vote share of Lyari.

Ulfat, buried under the expectations of her illustrious family and their feudal traditions, had often dreamt what it would be like to be Raahat Dakait.

A lone woman in a world aggressively dominated by men overdosed on testosterone.

She had quite literally carved a path of blood and violence, refuting every single principle ever written in their society. She has beaten, blasted, gunned down, cheated, manipulated, stabbed and slaughtered and strategised her way into a throne that no one could even hope to shake.

What freedom must taste like to her—

A woman who bows down to no man, or God.

Only now, Ulfat could observe the heavily armed men stationed in all the corners of the room, their makarovs and kalashnikovs and high powered HK416s trained at the ground yet their bodies positioned towards only a person on the floor.

Now she understood why no one around the woman was daring to even come closer.

The gangster queen was infamous for her brutality.

She doesn’t forget and she doesn’t forgive.

Ulfat was staring now.

And the only person in the entire club having the galls to do so, it seemed.

Everyone else was either giving the mafia queen, small yearning glances like mongrels wagging their tongues at the doorstep, unable to enter or completely ignoring her presence as if, pretending to not see the lion, would stop it from lunging at your throat.

But not Ulfat.

Even if a minute ago that was still possible, now, after knowing who she was, she physically couldn’t look away.

Danger was a strange addiction.

And Ulfat Hasin Jahaan was hopelessly, recklessly, almost suicidal in her attraction to mortal peril.

Where all her siblings would rather stay under their blankets with hands pressed to their ears, Ulfat would be out, getting soaked to the bone during a thunderstorm, laughing at the loud screaming skies breaking open on top of her head.

She loved the very scent of danger.

And Raahat Dakait was a tornadic presence of pure concentrated danger, fragrant with the nascent scent of a lethal monstrous strength and the kind of savage raw beauty one could only see in an absolute beast of nature.

She was the alpha of the herd.

She was the focal point and everything else and everyone else in the surroundings paled so much in comparison that it had all faded away from Ulfat’s gaze.

Her heart was suddenly hungry and she could feel an itch under her skin.

Raahat was gallivanting to her own tune, heavily lashed, eyes closed and tanned skin glowing under the neon lighting of the club.

The song had changed.

Janeman janeman janeman Jaayega tu kahan

Ulfat slipped off her table, her dress accentuating her figure in pale liquid gold as she sauntered towards the gangster queen. The floor was cleared around her as she walked—almost in a trance, the drunken dancing crowd, parting like the red sea for Moses.

Tu hai noor e nazar meri Dil mera tujh pe fida

Raahat twirled one more time, hands moving above her head to the beats, letting Ulfat suddenly notice the hidden musculature rippling under that slender body. She was slim but ripped.

That striking face was suddenly close to her and Ulfat saw a faint scar extending down from the corner of her maroon lips, almost black so concentrated the pigment was.

Or maybe that was dried blood— who knew.

The scar? A knife slash perhaps.

“A fairie— how enchanting. Does she want to dance with a Dakait?”, a slender hand was extended to her.

The ruby signet on her fingers flashed like the blood red eye of a demon in the lights.

Takraayenge mehfil mein To hogi guftagu

Raahat’s voice was a husky silk wrap unspooling over a gravel path. It made something tighten in her core.

Ulfat scoffed but took her hand, moving to the beats, her own hips gyrating in tandem to her dance partner’s, teak hair flipping around in the motion.

Tujhe dikhla doongi taare Jab honge rubaru

The contact of their skins was electric.

Raahat’s grip was firm but gentle at the same time. Like a surgeon holding a scalpel— unafraid, confident and steady but aware of the power his cuts would hold over a fragile human life.

“You dance like you belong to some other world, like you are listening to some tune, none of us can. Color me…curious”, Ulfat said, watching how the other woman hadn’t even slowed her movements or broken out of sync for a split second.

Main aur tu Main aur tu

They were dancing close to each other now, bodies barely a breath’s width away.

Silent dresses rasping, glittering tassels chinking, wavy curls swallowing their faces in soft curtains.

What Ulfat hadn’t noticed were the guards straightening, ready to pounce on her before Raahat’s eyes flash in warning and they retreated back to their positions.

“Ahh..you can listen to the music too, if you want. Come here..”, before Ulfat could realise what was happening, Raahat’s hands were on her hips and she was being twirled around on the dance floor with an envious grace.

Ulfat squeaked inelegantly but wrapped her own arms around those curved hips and hung for the ride. The mafia queen’s dark eyes were boring into her, almost like she was judging her soul.

“Listen carefully, Ulfat jaan. Listen to the beats of their hearts. Their blood pumping through their veins— this is the music I dance to… the music of pure roaring life—”, she was being pulled close to that sinuous body and her own heart was thundering so hard and she could barely hear the words properly.

Raahat was smirking, her eyes flashing dangerously like chipped coals.

An inferno alighted in Ulfat’s skin as she registered the way her name had been spoken, the individual letters, caressed like one does to a lover, an almost possessive touch to it.

Also the endearment.

Ulfat jaan?

“How.. how did you know my name? I didn’t—”, she stuttered, only for the black draped beauty to laugh.

And what a laugh it was.

The pearly mellifluous song of a siren calling out to the sailors, luring them into the deep end— mesmerising, wicked and so tempting it could bring Poseidon to his knees and Ulfat was a mere human.

She was dancing with the Devil and now she was trapped in her claws.

“I know whoever is worth knowing, darling. No one enters the borders of my kingdom without the Dakait queen’s knowledge.”

Ulfat blushed furiously.

“Was the Dakait queen keeping tabs on Zafar Jahaan’s daughter? You know what my father can do to your little kingdom, bandit?”, she said haughtily, if only to counter her bashfulness and found herself spun around and yet again that entrancing voice burst in velveteen chuckles.

Raahat smelled of petrichor, cedar and pine and faint undertones of expensive tobacco and the sharp notes of cordite mixed with something lavender.

“Oh princess, you have much to learn, don’t you?”, Raahat dipped her suddenly and Ulfat gasped, holding onto her bare shoulders and found the former’s eyes dancing with darkened desire and something profoundly mischievous.

Then she was pulled up again, a spawning hand that was a warm pressure on the cool skin of her bare back, supporting it, pressed like a brand and then Raahat was pulling away.

The sudden abandonment felt jarring— almost like a bereavement.

“I suggest you skip back into your ivory tower, Ms. Jahaan. This is no place for a fairie. This is my lair”, the words were a hissing whisper.

A note of clear warning in them.

“If you can’t bear the heat, you should get out of Hell.”

The gangster queen gave her a mocking bow, like a courtesy after their impromptu waltz all around the dance floor.

Ulfat grasped that slender wrist in a death grip, knowing full well that her own hand could be snapped in two without any hassle at all, but Raahat only cocked an eyebrow, a slight smile clinging to her plush lips, almost lazily.

The wicked woman knew exactly the effect she was having on Ulfat.

“I can take more than the heat, your highness. More than your Hell. I can take the Devil”, she snarked, sounding braver than she actually felt.

There was no warning before she found herself being spun around and that warm body was suddenly behind her, the soft curves and firm muscle plastered to her smooth back, an arm wrapped around her waist like a steel band.

Raahat’s lips were hovering over the sensitive skin of her neck.

Ulfat gasped and closed her eyes, feeling her heart trying to burst out of its cage. The other woman’s inky hair was a silken curtain kissing one of her shoulders with the sudden motion.

“Last warning Princess, think very carefully…when the lioness hunts, she will not stop unless she is satisfied. And my hunger— is endless.”

The words are almost pressed to her shivering skin and Ulfat is glad for the dim lighting and the dancing bodies and the anonymity the drunken haze grants because her entire face was flaming at this point.

There was an uncomfortable liquid heat pooling in between her legs.

But she can’t let the other woman have all the fun now, can she?

So Ulfat turned her face slightly and pressed her lips to the bare curve of that powerful shoulder instead.

It will leave a nice red print of her kiss.

“Promises, promises..my queen—”

Raahat’s hold tightened, her lips brushing teasingly at the curve of her neck before she straightened and held her hand, entwining their fingers, almost sweetly.

“Well, I tried. Don’t put all the blame on me later…”, the siren sing-songed and pulled her away towards a door that she noticed only then.

She was pulled beyond the dance floor, beyond the guards, in a flurry of sparkling black and inky hair and silver chains, those dark eyes shimmering like obsidian diamonds.

What has she gotten herself into?

_______________

The room was three stories up and there were guards stationed at every level. They barely acknowledged Ulfat, lowering their heads sharply once Raahat flew past them.

The door opened to a lavish bedchamber overlooking the roofs of Lyari.

Ulfat stood at the center of the room, her heels sinking into the carpet underneath and heard the soft thud of the door locking behind. Anticipation and adrenaline was a strange amalgamation inside that was making her blood sing.

“Nervous?”, Raahat cocked a sculpted eyebrow before pouring the whiskey from the crystal decanter at the side table and bringing it to her dark lips.

Ulfat sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest, decided it looked too defensive then let them hang by her sides, the confines of her tight corset feeling a bit too suffocating in comparison with her heart trying to fly away from its cage.

The other woman chuckled darkly, her swan-like throat swallowing down the neat alcohol almost like a perverted display of hedonism that Ulfat couldn’t take her eyes off. She licked her lips and held the glass towards her, like a peace offering.

“Liquid courage? Don’t be scared Princess, I won’t bite—”, she was circling her like a predator around their prey, a finger trailing around her collarbones and upper back, feather soft, “unless you specifically ask for it…”, Raahat pressed her lips to her nape.

Ulfat gasped and closed her eyes, feeling the contact burn through her skin.

The heat between her legs was unbearable.

And suddenly she was desperate.

Ulfat grabbed the glass from Raahat’s hand and downed the whiskey in one shot. The alcohol glided down her parched throat like liquid fire. Then she spun around and caught those sinuous hips with a fierce grip before the other woman could slip past her like a cobra again.

“Stop playing around, your highness. Or are the legends of your prowess mere exaggerations—”, she cocked an eyebrow and saw the other woman’s face harden for a split second.

Finally.

Raahat’s hand was a flying dagger, a split second and those long veiny fingers were wrapped around Ulfat’s throat— not cruel but not gentle either.

The woman was taller than her, in her heels and she had to look up at her in this precarious position, her own hands spasming on the other’s hips.

The gangster queen leaned on her face, her eyes flashing murderously now and Ulfat suddenly knew all those tall tales of her legendary bloodlust weren’t baseless rumours like she had previously thought.

This woman took pleasure in her kills.

“Easy there, Princess. Do not bite off more than your little teeth can chew”, she breathed the words on her face, tilting her jaw with the right amount of pressure making Ulfat moan.

She couldn’t help it.

Raahat grinned like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“Open your heels”, she commanded and moved away.

Ulfat, rendered suddenly devoid of mere cognitive abilities, felt her body obey like some primordial instinct had been awakened in her. Raahat was back to sipping on her whiskey, and watching her with an intense focus as she scrambled to untie the straps of her expensive shoes and kick them away.

The glass was put down with a soft clink and suddenly the other woman was right in front of her, Ulfat barely had time to reorient herself when those arms wrapped around her waist and those wicked lips pressed down on her own quivering ones.

Ulfat had kissed before.

A boyfriend from college.

She wasn’t very impressed afterwards.Those trashy romance novels which she had borrowed from Hayat had lied through their teeth.

She figured if Raahat Baloch had kissed her then, she wouldn’t have thrown her pulp fiction collection away.

Her lips were assaulted with a passion that seemed to immediately scorch through her entire body. She could feel the movement inside the pit of her stomach, a mass of fluttering butterflies as a tongue tasting of the bittersweet flavour of caffeine and alcohol mapped the insides of her mouth.

Her breaths were being devoured by the other woman. She was feeling lightheaded, her legs having turned to jello. The only reason she hadn’t yet fallen into a heap on the floor was because of those criminally strong arms holding onto her.

She was whimpering into the other’s mouth.

A smooth leg suddenly pressed right where she was aching and Ulfat couldn’t stop a short cry, moving away from those addictive lips. Raahat didn’t show her any mercy and went right back to teething at her lower lip, their lipsticks smeared a little from all the action.

That knee was rubbing through her dress, a warm hand on her back pressing her towards it and she was trapped, writhing desperately against the taller woman now.

“Please”, she whispered, gasping for breath as the lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw and down her throat.

Raahat answered with a nip on the hollow of her throat and Ulfat swallowed a cry and trembled in her arms.

“We haven’t even started, sweetheart and you are already shaking. I wonder what you’ll do once my face is buried in your pussy.”

Ulfat’s face burst into flames. She whimpered as sudden images assaulted her mind and the sheer depravity of the statement spoken in such clear smooth words made her core clench almost viciously.

Raahat’s fingers were pulling at the ribbon straps of her dress.

She gave her a questioning look and Ulfat realised she was asking for permission. It made her feel syrupy somewhere and she nodded while clinging to her a little pathetically. The straps were opened with military precision and the woman wasn’t even looking at them, content to stare at Ulfat’s reddened face instead.

The corset sprang open and her dress dropped and pooled around her ankles.

Her breasts were suddenly free and she was certain her panties were soaked through already.

“Mashallah…”, Raahat’s eyes looked a little unfocused for the first time and Ulfat resisted the urge to preen like a peacock.

What had happened to her?

Where was her shame?

Here she was standing almost naked in front of a woman who could tear her apart limb from limb and not break a sweat or ruin her blowout and all she wanted was her touch.

“You are beautiful”, Raahat continued in that slightly awestruck tone and cupped her breasts. Ulfat moaned at the contact and pressed forward. The hands squeezed her lightly and she shivered again, eyes getting a little heavy. The cold air of the room was making her nipples peak.

Suddenly she was picked up and dropped quite unceremoniously on the bed behind. The woman was deceptively strong, she hadn’t even breathed heavy, the wiry muscles somehow looking pronounced against Ulfat’s softer frame.

Raahat was kneeling over her legs on either side, that black glittering dress feeling cold against her bare skin.

“You—”

Ulfat’s words dissolved in a moan and she forgot what she was about to say as the other woman bent over her chest and those lips were tracing the curve of her breasts now.

She twisted and writhed a little, clutching those lovely black tresses spilled over her torso as Raahat wrapped her lips around one nipple and started suckling and teething at it.

Her other hand was groping her other breast, kneading and pulling at her nipple expertly. The twin sensations were followed by a sudden pressure of heat directly over her panties.

“Ahh”

Ulfat cried out and bucked as Raahat started grinding into her. Her pussy was weeping at all the myriad of friction and sensations throughout her body as that wicked mouth travelled down the valley of her chest to her stomach, sucking bites and leaving slightly wet open mouthed kisses everywhere on that creamy trembling skin.

She was covered with lipstick marks and bruises.

The teeth caught onto the edge of her panties and suddenly a tearing sound filled the room, almost obscenely and Ulfat was completely exposed.

She arched and closed her eyes, a blush spreading fast and wide from the bridge of her heated cheeks down to her chest.

“Fuck..you are a fairie indeed”, Raahat’s voice was unbearably thick and low before she had dived into her lover’s cunt with the ravenous hunger of a starving lioness having caught the throat of a gazelle.

Ulfat howled and her thighs trembled being held apart by a demanding hand and she felt her fingers sliding in and scissoring inside somehow making that tongue appear deeper and longer.

“Oh god..oh god..”

Ulfat was panting, gripping her own hair and Raahat’s hair at the same time, trying to not hit the other woman with her legs as she was eaten out with an uncharacteristic yet delectable vigour.

“Hmm..close but not quite..”, the evil woman chuckled into her skin, making her trembling hypersensitive walls vibrate around her words.

Ulfat was mewling now, the ceiling swirling in golden light and the tight knot of pleasure building exponentially inside her core was just at the right edge of painful.

“Oh god I’m gonna cum”, Ulfat breathed thinly, tugging at those long inky tresses desperately but her lover seemed too busy devouring her to heed her pleas.

Lips wrapped around her clit and sucked and her fingers pressed mercilessly to a spongy wall of tissue and a sparking dazzling sensation had the pressure inside her shatter like a tidal wave of hot pleasure that went searing through her.

Ulfat screamed and felt Raahat lapping and drinking up all her juices unheedingly, like she was a thirsty creature with a bowl of milk. When she finally came up for air, after having demolished Ulfat’s ability to even think coherently, the woman looked like a cat having gotten her cream.

Wrong analogy—

Ulfat felt her pussy clench on nothing, the throbbing ache of overstimulation shooting lingering aftershocks of pleasure through her system.

“Look at you…all splayed out and tired”, Raahat chuckled and kissed her thighs and then her lips before she could protest, letting her taste herself on her tongue.

Her arms had wrapped around her back, feeling the muscles and surprisingly scarred skin on the other woman.

She wanted the stupid dress off her.

The other woman hadn’t even gotten her heels off before climbing over her and here she was, Ulfat Jahaan, naked and completely under the former’s control.

“Get this off”, she said irritatedly in between her kisses, tugging at the silver straps.

Raahat laughed like pealing bells, amused and endeared at her annoyance and sat up, the silver of her pendant settling perfectly over her stomach.

“As my lady wishes”, she chuckled and kicked off her heels that went clattering somewhere on the ground and pulled off her dress in a smooth fluid move.

Ulfat felt her heart come to a thudding stop.

Not a stitch of clothing on her body except that silver pendant and the leather holster around one powerfully built thigh. Black like the night sky against her tanned olive skin.

The complexion was discoloured around a scattered expanse of her curvy waist, maybe burn marks. There was scarring liberally all over her torso— gnarled stab marks, puckered bullet wounds, poorly healed slashes and lacerations, rough stitches leaving spidery silver scars.

Her breasts were smaller than Ulfat’s but round and curved firmly. Not a hint of softness and fat in sight. The stomach was flat and had the faint hint of washboard abs that Ulfat hadn’t noticed in the dim lighting of the club despite the plunging neckline.

She was like a thoroughbred horse.

Reeking of a life lived at the razor edge of danger, the various escapes from certain death and the cruelty of the streets branded into her skin like the epitaph of a grave. Her wild hair fell like the Nyx over her gleaming body— the sinuous sea vines entwined over a siren’s skin.

“Turned you off, did they?”, Raahat’s voice was light and almost cheery— playful. But her eyes seemed to have shuttered off a little as Ulfat kept gawking at her naked body like a dimwitted goldfish.

Ulfat shook her head almost as if to make it start working and caught the other woman’s waist with a firm grip.

“Are you kidding? You..you are…”, she stumbled and fumbled and finally decided to demonstrate rather than define.

For the first time since they met on the dance floor, Raahat was taken by surprise as she was flipped over with a sudden burst of strength and Ulfat had climbed over her— those mahogany locks tickling her softly.

She kissed her deeply, applying all the new tricks learnt only a minute ago to those slightly swollen lips and that sinister mouth.

She left Raahat panting and covered her face with kisses and trailed down her body, licking and laving and sucking her own marks into that warm skin. She wrapped her lips around a puckered bullet wound on her sternum and sucked so hard the other woman couldn’t stop a moan from escaping for the first time.

The sound hit Ulfat right at her core.

It was a raspy breathy baritone almost low enough to rumble like the earth and Ulfat was suddenly struck with a feverish desire to hear it louder.

“You are magnificent”, she could finally whisper against her heaving skin and cupped one breast with a careful hand.

Raahat huffed, a half twisted smile on that beautiful face.

“So very..ahh kind, darling”, she hissed as Ulfat took a dark nipple in her mouth and started nibbling at it, copying her from some moments ago. She was not very experienced but she hoped her eagerness would somewhat make up for it.

Raahat was very quiet, but her skin was trembling under her lover’s earnest and careful ministrations.

She got a moan here and there as she focused her energies on her various scars and when she particularly pressed her teeth on them. She had left those perky breasts and was moving southwards and she could feel the other woman’s hold on the bedsheets fisting tighter with every wet kiss and sucked bruise.

Ulfat reached the corner of one hip and saw a small tattoo engraved on the skin there.

It was a scorpion seemingly scribbled over a name trying to peek from beneath the inky scrawl.

She couldn’t make much of it and looked up quizzically. The other woman was staring at her, a little glassy eyed having lifted herself on her elbows.

“We are all sentimental fools sometimes in our life”, she offered as an explanation and Ulfat decided to leave it at that. It was clear the memory was unwanted and if by the sudden melancholy splashing in those dark irises, quite painful.

Her curiosity could be satisfied some other day.

Right now, she had better things to do.

“Umm..could you open your holster?”, Ulfat eyed the gun a little concerned. It was remarkable how easily both of them had seemingly forgotten about a literal weapon attached to Raahat’s body, so immersed in each other, were they.

Raahat smirked and unlatched the holster with the gun and dropped it on the side table. Ulfat rolled her eyes at the smugness radiating off the woman and pressed her down on the bed. She sprawled back down, almost like a queen over her fiefdom, those naked limbs spread so invitingly against the black sheets that it could tempt the Gods themselves, forget mere mortals.

Ulfat would wipe that smirk off her stupidly enchanting face.

She could smell her arousal anyway.

She felt Raahat squirm a little as she traced the outline of the lips of her pussy with a curious finger. Ulfat had never done this before but she was a quick study.

“Fuck”, Raahat whispered and arched quite beautifully around her as Ulfat licked a broad stripe off the slit and then pushed inside. Her taste bursting on her tongue was addictive and she started licking.

Those long legs were starting to tremble just a little.

There was a huff and a slight moan and suddenly Ulfat knew why people enjoyed sex so much. There was an immense power in knowing how much you could reduce a being of absolute icy control to a writhing whimpering mess.

Ulfat picked up pace and started tracing her own name with her tongue on those fleshy walls and Raahat was moaning continuously now. A sudden grip on her hair was tight enough to sting pleasantly down to her roots and she hummed in response.

“Ahh..damn you are good”, Raahat whispered and Ulfat felt the praise settle warmly in the pit of her stomach.

She was about to make her feel so damned good, the gangster queen would forget her own name.

Ulfat held one of her thighs apart and slid in her fingers beside her tongue spreading her pussy apart for better access and wrapped her lips around her clit at the same time. Raahat cried out for the first time, kicking a little in the air but made sure to not hurt her accidentally.

Her legs were quaking and Ulfat was feeling heady with all the power.

She had the most dangerous person in town and perhaps the most dangerous woman in all of Pakistan at her sweet mercy.

“Ahh Ulfat!”

Her name sounded amazing, spoken in that tight breathless way, a warning— silky and almost growly. Her hair was being tugged at now and she could almost sense the release before it came. She had dug in her fingers, searching till she could find the g-spot.

Raahat writhed once and twisted and came almost violently. Ulfat swallowed and lapped at her cum as much as she could, enjoying the musky almost sweet flavor and the way her lover’s characteristically guttural baritone had turned almost high pitched in pleasure.

Ulfat panted, feeling the other woman’s release stick to her lips as she sat back up.

It was a breathtaking sight.

Watching the devilish damsel who had baited and hooked her like a fish on the dance floor from an hour ago, spread out and heaving naked, her beautiful hair splayed like a halo over the sheets— flushed and almost vulnerable.

Raahat extended a hand and Ulfat took it and found herself being pulled sharply till she landed face first on that chest. They huffed at the same time and burst into giggles as the former pulled the latter up till Ulfat was cuddled close in those muscled yet slender arms.

“You..”, Raahat punctuated with kisses on Ulfat’s still giggling face, “are a sweet surprise, Ulfat jaan”.

“You are not too bad yourself, Raahat bibi”, Ulfat replied, batting her eyelashes and pressing a kiss to that stained cheekbone, almost a little shy.

Raahat stroked her cheek with a thumb. Her hand was calloused. The skin toughened with physical labour, completely in contrast with Ulfat’s silky smooth palms. She had an arm wrapped around the Dakait queen’s back. Her fingers traced over what felt like toughened scar tissues, raised and embossed.

She hadn’t noticed it before, lost in the ardour of her lover’s embrace.

Ulfat turned her around and Raahat huffed by obliged, flipping over and letting her hair fall into a pool at the side.

Ulfat gasped. Her entire back was a mass of gnarled crisscross of ugly scabs.

Almost as if someone had whipped a layer off her skin into ribbons.

The sheer brutality of the imagery was too much and Ulfat removed her hand from the raised wound, terrified that even a phantom touch might be agonizing, even if her brain knew that it was probably healed for years.

“What—”, she began and swallowed back the rest of the words.

Raahat sighed and flipped around again and pulled her back to her chest, letting her disheveled locks cover her like a satin blanket as Ulfat curled inside her arms like a doll. She was feeling uncharacteristically sleepy.

“The price of freedom in this world extends a nasty toll, princess”, she whispered and stroked her back gently.

“Was it worth it?”, Ulfat asked, tracing the scars on her side with a curious yet soft touch.

Raahat seemed to consider the question for some time, letting the silence stew for so long that Ulfat was afraid she had offended her. She was about to open her mouth to apologize when she spoke again.

“Yes.”

One word.

Raahat tangled her legs with her next and dropped a kiss on top of her head. It was sweet. It made something flutter inside Ulfat. She dropped a boulder over it and pressed it down with ruthless force.

She is a gangster.

And a woman.

Her father and brothers would kill them both if they even got a hint of what had happened tonight. And as if reading her mind, Raahat smirked almost a tad caustic but stroked her back soothingly.

“Worry not princess. The air doesn’t breathe here unless I command it. No one has seen anything. You will be back, safe and sound and dolled up before daddy dearest could find anything amiss.”

Ulfat sighed in relief and more than a bit of disappointment.

She was really comfortable and didn’t want to move.

But she didn’t want to test her fortunes more than she already has. She untangled from those really comfortable arms and lifted herself off the bed. Her panties were a lost cause that hopefully no one would notice.

Ulfat slipped back inside her dress and wore her heels.

She needed to wash her face and neck and god..maybe her chest too.

There were lipstick marks all over her skin.

Raahat was still on the bed, naked and inviting, a hand supporting her head sideways, the curve of her hips a sinuous line, those firm breasts peaked in the cool air of the room, her hair disheveled almost seductively over her bare sweaty skin.

She was a temptress carved out of pure sin, beckoning the saints to have a taste and get addicted forever.

“I am glad I met you, Raahat Baloch”, Ulfat said finally, bending over the bed and stroking a wild curl off the other woman’s face.

Raahat grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles and winked at her like a she-devil.

It was oddly charming.

“And I you, Ulfat Jahaan”, her eyes were burning like twin embers, the kajal having smeared a little from their recent activities, the lipstick looking like blood staining her plump lips.

There was that hint of dimples on her cheeks.

“Pity though, I had envisioned you speared open on my cock and crying like a little whore, that delectable ass of yours would look glorious— perhaps some other time.”

Ulfat gasped and felt her entire body ignite in tandem. She hurriedly took back her hand and repressed the strong urge to fan herself. She could feel her own cum dripping down the insides of her thighs.

The image of being pounded into the black sheets, legs around that powerful waist and being driven into constantly by the other woman, her humiliatingly arousing voice whispering filthy nothings inside her ears as their long manes hid them from the rest of the world hit her so jarringly clear that she could only clamp her legs tighter and flee.

Ulfat opened the door with a bit too much force and heard Raahat Dakait’s laughter ring almost angelic, following her down the stairs and all the way till she reached her car. She switched on the engine and rubbed at her cheeks, trying to push down the blood that had risen to her cheeks.

Those warm husky chuckles were still chiming like the song of a siren pressed so deep inside her skin that it felt like it had almost branded her soul. ‘Come to my parlor, said the spider to the fly’ and Ulfat was feeling suspiciously like the fly in this scenario.

Raahat Dakait was trouble.

Beautiful wonderful dangerous trouble.

And trouble had never looked more attractive to Ulfat Jahaan before.

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I taste of vodka, blood, and gunpowder darlin'