Hirasat
IQBAL X wife!READER
a/n- based on request, hope you all would like it, interact cutu ded by writing this incoherent af
Trigger Warning- 18+,dom!Iqbal sub!reader ,rough sex, age gap, spanking ,some fluff, breeding kink once again ,very dub con i dont know how that happened lol,gun play, NOT PROOF READ!
Note- I of course dont support terrorism in any form this is only and only for the character potrayed by Arjun Rampal
Word count - 6.9k
The canopy of the bed fell way high above your head, the netted curtain fell like a shower and above all the overwhelming smell of roses and jasmine that flooded your head, they were bunched together carefully hanging from the over head in stripes covering the whole span of the bed, your heart has beaten uncomfortably in your chest, the queasy feeling that brewed in your stomach, you were a dutiful daughter did everything your father had asked you to all your life to keep his name and reputation clean , safe, protected, caged but you allowed it for your dearest abbu and what did you get in return? To get married off to a man almost 15 years older than you.
Iqbal was the last man you thought you would have married maybe even one of your cousins would have been a reasonable match, or the burger bacche of your college but no he decided on the broody quiet grump who you have seen twice in your home living room smoking away a cigar and now you were supposed to be his good little wife. You were angry at yourself, that you found yourself bending to your family's ,your father's decision for such an important thing in your life.
Iqbal stood like a stone beside you throughout the whole thing, you couldn't even tell if he was even looking at your zoning out or.. Well there was this other times where you felt like he was eye fucking you which wouldn't make sense for the dignified disciplined man he was. Other than that he remained quiet , so quiet that you were utterly nervous about a thing you had been so sure about and trained for your whole life , for being a wife.
Iqbal found himself walking into a place that has always been his before tonight, the room held its breath at him entering slow, yours eyes flickered close to dampen out the reality of the situation,he didn't say anything not a word just closed the door behind him with a click that ringed like a death sentence. You wanted to keep your eyes shut forever but then it grew slowly, the curiosity to understand the man you had been handed over too, with each rustle of his fine sherwani as he moved, the sound of metal meeting wood as he took off his watch and his breathing that only grew deeper with each passing second.
You peeked only to find him already looking at you through the mirror, you were caught. You instantly lowered your gaze, cheeks burning at the intensity of his gaze but tried to procure some normalcy by pulling the kadhai of your anarkali, the door wasn't closed it was locked, the bed decorated with rose petals for your sweet sacrifice. He stalked over to the bed, settling right beside your shoulder brushed against yours. You couldn't think, you didn't expect this immediate closeness at all. You had prepared yourself for the sweet talk of holding hands, not this immediate possession.
“ Y/N” he breathed over your neck and you felt physically destroyed into pieces, his voice was so deep and said with an effortless tone that flowed calmly but the command was clear each time. “ Ji?” “Khush ho?” He asked not really expecting an answer, sliding his coarse hand down till they got a hold of yours, what was supposed to be romantic,soft looked clinical as he searched through your hand tracing each design under his thumb. There was a twinge in your heart for how mechanical it all felt if this is what the rest of your life was supposed to be spent? To be with a man like your father who wouldn't find the time to understand if you would actually live your life in the shell of what you could have been.
Iqbal's beard tickled at your skin stopping your trail of thought, you didn't notice him lean into your palm inhaling at the rose milk scent with all his passion, “ Mashallah” Another tremor ran down your back in another unexplainable sensation that threatened to take over the hurt. “ Apni marzi se shaadi ki hai aapne?” he looked up, the deep brown void of his eyes swallowing you,you paused for a fraction - it was by all means done with your willing but that tad bit of you had to kill itself to mould into your father's demands. “ Ji, apne mann se kari hai” You mumbled pulling down the crimson veil off your head at your shoulder.
“ Mann se kari hai, par kya dil se kari hai?”
“ Aapne kari hai dil se?” you shot back, surprising yourself but his presence had been too dizzying keeping you befuddled. You expected anger at the audacity but he chuckled, his eyes crinkling with pure admiration. He huffed pulling the loosely draped cloth down your shoulder more to see your silhouette without the obstruction of the dupatta.
“ Aapko kya lagta hai rishta aapke abbu ne chuna hai? Maine hi aapko dekha tha do baar mujhe door se dekhte hue aap pasand aagyi toh maine nikaah ke liye puch liya par lagta hai aap is faisle se itna khush nahi hai”
You lowered your gaze, cheeks flushing into oblivion you didn't know that the man lounging with your father had eyes for you all along , “ Nahi …hum kush hai” You whispered, twisting the ring at your finger.
“Mujhe aisi khoobsurat biwi ki naemat mili hai aur aap mujhse poochh rahe hain ki kya main ne apni dili khushi se is shadi par razamandi di thi? Hum bhi bahut kush hai”
You smiled before you knew it, chest heaving with excited breaths waiting for him to close the distance, he lips brushed against your like a soft breeze, the smell of the coffee he had mixed with the natural masculine scent of him, the silk of his clothes all of it flooding your head, you let yourself get pushed in the mattress ready to give yourself to him.
Iqbal did not hurt you not for a second, gently guiding you through everything with a patience that betrayed the hunger that simmered inside him, he had seen you twice peeking out from behind the wall in your simple kurta and an emotion that had not stirred in him throughout his whole life bleaking to his heart, avoiding his father taunts about marriage to devote himself to work he found himself wanting to be married. When you cried out when he entered you, he felt his heart break in two but insanely harder at the sight of your tears, so he held himself and the monster inside him back leaning down to press kisses to your temple till you have adjusted to his thickness.
The first month of your marriage passed in marital bless, Iqbal was so much more than you expected him to be and he clearly wasn't a grump but a lovesick man who wouldn't get enough of you, calmly waiting for you to talk more than what would be considered informal. That was his one complain from you, you never talked to him more than necessary not because you were shy because you thought it wasn't dutiful, proper to talk so much in front of him even shameless to torture him with the blabber of your whole day.
You wiped the sweat beading at your forehead, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was half undone from behind. Your dupatta tied at the side, your blush pink kurta sticking to your skin through that wetness, flour patted onto your cheek working in the sweltering heat in the kitchen, the smell of korma filling the kitchen as you worked to knead the dough. It's not like he did not keep the house help but you just liked cooking for him, you didn't hear the muffled footsteps as he strode to you over the sound of your own irritated hiss and the consistency got too slimy. Iqbal swept you off your feet, you gasped before giggling at the familiar sensation of his hands wrapping around your waist, he twirled you once before settling on the cold marble counter.
“Kitni pyaari lag rahi hai aap” He murmured appreciatively, his hands tugging your neckline up possessively before trying to kiss your sweat slick cheek,
“ Choro na Iqbal, kya kar rahe hai aap? Koi dekh lega”
“Toh kya hua, begum hai aap hamari”
You hit at his chest trying to hold back the wild smile that was painting your face at this proximity.
“ Aapne toh kitchen ko hi apna ghar bana diya hai kabhi humare saath bhi baith liya karo”
His hand moved quickly keeping both your palms flat and pinned at your sides, it was supposed to be sweet but it felt scarily exciting to know that even his effortless grip could hold you down easily, you swallowed watching him inch closer till his lips met your again in a soft and slow rhythm. You half chuckled turning your head away mid movement, for a second there Iqbal frowned a deep and ugly one for not getting what’s his but he trains them back into neutral.
You noticed it, without much words you have learned to communicated by observing people and though how much you admired and felt loved in his presence there was something off about him, about the parts that he kept to himself and that was also part why you hesitated to talk to him because the ugly truth about a traditional marriage was that despite being well educated you had no autonomy and all the power for your happiness laid in his hand, it was for him to decide what he wanted to be to you the man now or the quiet statue you saw at your wedding, so you avoided questioning it.
You don't know if he felt the shift, but he moved, reaching into the front pocket of his shirt pulling out dainty silver anklets,
“ Yeh kya hai?”
“ Aap toh humse baat nahi karti socha yahi kar lenge”
he nodded at the anklet, flicking them soft, hearing the mellow chime hum through the kitchen. He sat down on his knees clasping them in place, “ Iqbal please aise accha todhi lagta hai” embarrassed at a man so much older than you kneeling to you, you tried to pull back your feet “ Nakhre bahut karti hai aap” You gave up into his hand because what else could you have done.
Iqbal has been occupied with work lately, the time of his arrival increasing with each passing night and with the same brooding expression he would walk through the door and sigh ever so softly when he saw you wide awake and waiting for him, it was the same as any other day only this time his shoulders fell heavier, his eyes darker and the sigh deeper almost a snarl.
“ Iqbal aap theek toh hai na?”
For the first time you gathered enough courage to ask him something out of mundane homely tasks,
“ Tumhe ek baar mei baat samajh nahi aati hai waqt se so jaaya karo”
his reply was short and clipped out of character for the way he had been cherishing you for the past month, you fell quiet the pain of your heart settling in your wrists.
“Aur yeh kya haal kar rakha hai kamre ka”
He turned to watch the clothes piled up into a heap by the bed which you were too lazy to clean up and even lazier to call and explain to the maids the order at which they were to be arranged.
“ Karti kya ho pura din ghar pe?”
you felt yourself grow smaller at each word, all the puff leaving your chest,
“ Aur yeh kya phen rakha hai?”
He nodded at your slip night gown with pure disdain at the satin that covered nothing. You shrank further pulling the bedsheet up to your chin wondering why you asked him anything at all.
Iqbal noticed but he did not comment on it walking to the bathroom with his fist clenched almost as if to hide something, the second he stepped back out again freshened up he was a different man altogether. Nervous,skittish with how you were laying on the very edge of the bed turned away from him , “ Gussa hogayi?” he tried to joke, leaning slow from behind to burrow his face into your neck, you shrugged him off scooting further away.
“ Sorry meri jaan, kaam se thak aata ho aur tumhe mere vajah se itni der ko jagah hua dekhta toh aur takleeq hoti hai mujhe”
“ Mujhe daatne mei nahi hoti?” you whispered hiding further into the pillow
“ Sorry thoda gusse mei tha kuch bhi bol diya, itni pyaari ..um…dress? Pheni hai aapne mujh jaise budhe ko thodi samajh aayega” he cupped your breast from behind, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder. You wanted to give in but the hurt still remained fresh so you didn't react to him at all. Iqbal got the idea and pulled back, keeping enough distance for your bodies to not touch while you slept, but you knew he was looking at you, his gaze searing through your back, through the thin fabric of your gown. At some point you were more scared than you were mad if this was his actual self and the lovely gestures were maybe a facade.
The next morning Iqbal tailed you like a lost dog while you refused to talk to him. Eventually he gave up and just watched as you put down plates with more force than required ‘slamming’ them on the dining table. “ Y/N” he half whispered but you didnt answer, “ Maaf kardo” he tried again holding your hand as you moved to throw down the cutleries as well, “ Bolo kya chaiye aapko?” “ Humne kuch nahi chaiye” you finally huffed something out over the lump in your throat, Iqbal left quietly this morning fighting the urge to kiss your temple and bid you goodbye like usual because you clearly did not want to be close with him right now.
By afternoon you had started feeling guilty about the way you ignored his desperate attempts and it didn't look right either that such an older man had to walk around in circles for your opinion and you understood he was just frustrated from work and didn't mean to snap but the possibilities for that behavior scared you, when you were cleaning up after your lunch you saw it his tiffin box tucked at the end of the kitchen slate hidden behind the stack of dishes in front of it.
The idea had formed before you allowed it, the end to your first couple argument and it was sweet in idea, you would dress and go by to drop his tiffin box and forgive him for all the things he said last night. You put on the kurta you wore in your college days, and had seen Iqbal's eyes stop at it when you were skimming through your clothes before a function once, he didn't say he liked but his eyes spoke for him. The butter yellow complimented nicely against your skin tone, it different than the intricate suits you had moved to after marriage because you were living in the house of one of the most reputed man in pakistan, luxury wasn't a choice it was mandatory for the public image and this road side stall brought kurta maybe stood no chance in front of the fine silk but Iqbal had admired it and so did you.
It was with printed large pink patterns, the same patterns on the light dupatta that you had draped carefully over your shoulder and head, feeling a college girl again, but you were married now with Iqbal's lunch box in your hands, chand baali in your ears, the bangles in your hand stacked and first time going to see what burdens him so much that he is weared out when he returns home, a chance to understand him better.
“ Bashir mujhe Iqbal ke daftar chor dijiye” “ Begum sahiba.. Iqbal sahab ne mana kara hai” “ Aise kaise mana kara hai hum bol rahe hai na leke chalo” “ Sach mei unhone mana kara hai” “ Agar aap humne nahi leke jaoge toh hum auto se chale jayege fir dekhna Iqbal ji kitna gussa karenga” You poked at his shoulder and he couldn't do anything other than listen to the lady of the house.
Inside of the office was normal, just like your father’s had been with all the cubicles leading to a big room at the end, illuminated by yellow lights and closed off from the rest, Iqbal’s office. You held the tiffin box walking slowly to his office, most of the people were confused as to why the boss’s wife was here at all dressed in all pastel in this gloomy mood. The office was empty, his leather seat cold from his long absence “ Iqbal?” You called out three times with no reply from anyone, a familiar man entered the room, his face furrowed, hair disheveled
“ Y/N aap? Aap yaha kya kar rahi hai”
He faltered standing straight and respectful
“ Sajid voh bas Iqbal ji apna tiffin bhool gaye vahi dene aayi thi”
“ Mai de doonga aap ghar jaiye”
he reached out but you held the box closer to yourself cutting off any possibility of him getting a hold of it, well because he wasn't exactly allowed to touch you.
“ Nahi hume apne haath se dena hai”
“ Iqbal sahab office mei hi nahi hai, bahar gay hai kaam se”
on cue came the sound from the room beside, even distant than that more muffled, downstairs, it was from downstairs.
“ Iqbal hai vaha?”
Sajid did not know how to lie to you
“Abhi kisi ka aana allowed nahi hai”
“ Accha theek hai naraaz hai voh humse samajh gayi, par itna gussa kaisa? milenge bhi nahi mere se“
" Please aap ghar jaiye” You pouted tapping your feet at the wooden floor, “ Mai nahi jaungi, Iqbal se bina nahi jaungi” “ Fir aap inteezar kar sakti hai yaha baith ke.. Bas abhi nahi mil sakte” You plopped down on the couch, eyes flickering to the door over and over. “ Sajid chai milegi?” “ Abhi?” “ Ji mujhe abhi chaiye.. Aap hume mana kar rahe hai hume?” He sighed not knowing who to follow the boss, or his wife because upsetting his wife might be a bigger crime than betraying him here.
The second Sajid was out of the door you sprang to the room attached to his office finding the narrow spot in the corner that led downstairs. It was a whole different world all together, alienated from the sophisticated exterior you just saw, the wall painted a dull white and fluorescent light shining overhead and the air was already eerie but you carried on looking for Iqbal.
Iqbal had been viscous since last week when he found out there was a mole in his business, selling away his hard work to his enemies and busied himself in finding and extracting other sources that made it possible by the way he knew- torture. He had been patient handling the work to the most trusted Sajid , but it has been one week and the man was still not opening his mouth and he had to take things into his own hands.
The room was equipped with weapons designed to slowly kill, to inflict such pain that there was nothing left other than surrender. Iqbal rolled up the sleeves of his faded navy blue kurta to his elbows slipping on the black leather gloves moving with a quiet intensity that carried a storm itself scanning through the row after row of the most heinous weapons quietly, Iqbal had already peeled off his nails after the man had gone out his way and struggle and scratch at Iqbal exposed skin violently enough that it was bleeding, but he wasn't satisfied with it, more vexed than usual because his dear wife had not spoke to him once and he needed an outlet to take that out and he was found an excuse today with the blood that ran down his forearm form the cut.
Iqbal decided on a classic saw because he knew it wouldn't cut through on the first blow, that what made the process more fascinating for Iqbal, he leaned in into the chair the man was tied to soughing in agony at his deformed fingers, flailing his hand against the time, “ Abhi bhi waqt hai bol do beta” Iqbal tutted,speaking so softly that the man knew what was set for his fate, Iqbal raised the saw crashing it down his tied arm with sickening crunch.
You saw it eyes wide, standing at the entrance. Your husband was doing this.
“ Bolo beta?” He asked but didn't give him the time to reply, aggressively bringing down the saw over over one the half cut arm in repeated violent motions that were too perfect to be not the ‘norm’ and especially by the look on his face they weren't, he wasn't hesitating not for sliver of his body recoiled by what he was doing ,blood spattered spraying at Iqbal's suit “ BOL BETA BOL” the screamed the sound echoing off the walls.
You stepped back slowly, careful not to catch anyone’s eyes. He is a monster, a monster. The man in the chair you recognised from the dinners Iqbal held at home, how he introduced him to you as an old acquaintance of five years. Five years? And Iqbal didn't struggle to commit something so horrifying to him, so how will a wife of one month stand a chance against his temper, this nature. You were almost out of sight when you moved a little too fast, your ankles chimed faintly over the screams but Iqbal's head shot up, instantly recognising the sound. “ Y/N?” he mouthed.
Your body was in dilemma whether to catch your breath first,to run to keep your heart beating because with no doubt Iqbal had seen you, you dropped the tiffin watched the content fall open on the floor as you ran as fast as you can again marvelling if to take off your anklets first, hands shivering so hard they fell like they would fall off. Cutting off a man's hand was so easy for him what would he do with you since you had made him so upset yesterday, you carried yourself on unsteady legs. Lungs burning for the desperate attempts you made to breathe the panic only growing when you couldn't find your way back upstairs, running into doors after doors and then you froze for a second hearing the heavy boots tracing your footsteps. Those damn anklets gave it away and Iqbal was onto you, you forced yourself to move slowly so the movements wouldn't amplify the sound further getting into the first room beside you.
You fumbled with the knob twice before twisting it open to what looked like a rest room for the times Iqbal stayed back in his house, it was his room you could tell by the cub cigars discarded on the floor on the bedside table , his favourite one and if that didn't give it away there was a frame of you rested atop just beside the cigar from your wedding, cropped so it was only you for him to admire when he couldn't find his way back home and the fear wavered stupidly with the warmth rising in your body.
The room was so sickly drowned with his scent that your head was getting dizzy, chest heaving which felt a lot like excitement. Disgusting;you cringed and then came the final call of the door turning and opening in front of you. Iqbal looming inside without a word.
You stood breath hitched, hand gripping at the desk behind you, still not a word he moved past you, still not a word as he took off his gloves, not a word as he tried to wipe off some of the blood from his kurta.
He hadn't said a word, maybe you could just run away. You dashed to the door without him moving a fraction, just when you twisted the knob in your hand he covered the distance in three long steps , picking you up so effortlessly that you wondered if you weighed anything under at all.
You slipped in his grips, squirming and thrashing to get free while he remained unyielding, jaw shut tight throwing you on the desk. “ Iqbal please mujhe chor do, maine kuch nahi dekha please” You sobbed, slapping your palm at his rock hard chest, Iqbal held you still with that extreme gaze and strength that he did not have to apply to keep you from moving.
“ Shh shh”
He hushed you finally, ignoring your small useless movements to slam his forehead against yours breathing deep and low. Your mind actively worked against your logical conscience, the human urge to survive overshadowed by disgustingly attracted you were to him, even after the revelation of his true self.
“ Kitni haseen lag rahe hoo aaj, uff.. Mujhe milne aayi ho itne sajj ke?” He said his voice husky and hungry, thumb caressing your cheek as if your body wasn't actively breaking into sobs from the fear, from the clear evidence that dampened his shirt the blood brown against the blue of his shirt.
“ Iqbal please hum sach mei kisi ko kuch nahi bolege”
“ Kya nahi bologi? Meri jaan yahi meri jindagi hai is se aapke siwa sab vaafiq hai aapke abbu bhi” before the disbelief of his first few words he could hit you he continued
"Tum nahi jaanti ke mujhe tumhare baap ko maali tor par tabah karne ke liye kis hadd tak jana pada, sirf is liye kyunke wo tumhe mujhe saunpne par raazi nahi tha. Tumhe andaza nahi ke is sab ke peeche meri kitni gehri saazishein thien... kis qadar junoon tha tumhe paane ka, tumhe apni baahon mein qaid karne ka"
He confessed, two glances and he had decided to drain your father financially to have you. There was no doubt your husband was crazy and holding you so fiercely calm. You wanted to be angry but all that came out of your mouth was a bated breath and even that he did spare, swallowing it in his mouth. Clashing your lips with his, you gasped in surprise giving him the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your quivering mouth, your hands flailing uselessly as he carefully but swiftly pulled over the kurta over your head. The air is clammy, goosebumps prickling at your skin.
Fear and arousal churned all together in a dangerous mix pooling in your gut, “ Iqbal-”He tangled his tongue with yours again blurring out every thought in your head for a movement, you only came back to your sense when you felt the cold metal press between the valley of your breasts, tracing up and down over the cleavage formed by the cotton bra "Tumhe lagta hai ke main ne ye sab tumhe paane ke liye kiya, sirf is liye ke tumhe takleef pahchaoon?"your hands did not need containing anymore, your struggles have stopped itself from the sheer paralysing fear. “ Iqbal please aap..yeh kya kar rahe hoo?” the safety was off- the safety was off it was off but you couldn't move, his gaze so commanding that even when your heart threatened to crash you didn't want to go against it.
The revolver sleek body prodded at your skin, it was loaded and he wasn't stepping back if anything, you felt the metal dig harder into your plump flesh, his finger rested dangerously at the trigger, the only comfort was the eye contact he held with you, that kept you captive in place. In your hindsight you could see as he crushed the trigger further, your eyes snapping close but not moving from the position you were in to save your life. The shot went empty but you flinched from the impact, hands going to hold onto his bicep, holding onto the very cause of your fear, nails digging into his skin. Iqbal eyes dragged over your face, watching the fresh tear drop glisten in a sheen line over your eye, the way you trusted him he had never felt his heart beat so frantically like it did at the at the depraved sight of your trust and the cede of your body, you were his sweet victim not upset at the fact he had plotted his way into this marriage, but just watching him doe eyes that were begging him to fuck you.
He glided it over your soft skin, hooking the mouth of the gun beneath the strap of your bra sliding it down your shoulder, unraveling your left breast to his ravenous eyes. “ Iqbal” You whimpered but he ignored it, rubbing at the nipple with the side of the gun, before holding it back in between your breast, sliding it down and over your stomach. Your breath caught when you realised he wanted to stop, tugging the salwar and panties up together with the gun, skidding it down along with his hand.
The freezing cold metal pressed against your clit, making you jolt forward and thrash momentarily before you met his eyes again, lulling you back into submissiveness. He was more handsome up close, wrinkles running around his eyes, the side of his lips along with the scar that ran above the side of his mouth, his moustache and beard thick and salt and paper that he didn't care to cover with fake dyes, just intensifying visually the obvious age gap between you both. “ Iqbal” You tried again, but he didn't budge, sliding your clothes down till you had no choice but to comply by lifting your hips so he could strip you bare.
You were a beautiful mess the innocent cotton panties stopping at your ankles, left breast out of the fabric and body shivering, your clit throbbed against the foreign object , he drowned in the sight of you getting worked up from the fear, his true self, at your how the bud that hid above your folds looked pressed against something so dangerous. Your entrance peeking out from the folds, pink and fleshed raw , he was tempted to push the barrel in but he understood enough to not do that, just teased you with the hard rigid metal that had your toes curling.
He handled it with the perfect pressure, he had learnt that much about your pleasure now, holding the mouth of the gun pressed flat against your slit till the start of your taint, “ Iqbal!” You shrieked, just his name no indication for him to stop or start because deep down you didn't know whether you did or not yourself. “ Ji begum” He rasped, nibbling on the shell of your ear the sweet endearment sound so mocking now . “Please chor dijiye, Iqbal mujhe dar raha hai”
He smirked, tapping the sensitive bundle of nerves and on cue your wetness gushed down more, lubricating yourself “ Dar lag raha hai aapko meri jaan?” He cooed, catching the wetness at the gun, holding up the slick metal in front of your mouth, “ Yeh hai aapka dar?” those trembling lips have been inviting since the day he saw you, he drummed the head at your lips.
“ Open” he demanded, your hands clutching tighter at his bicep only roused him more, testing the patience that he was holding back for one month. He squeezed your mouth open , the end of the barrel hitting at the back of your mouth. “ Suck” He demanded again, this time over your gagging self, turning more vulnerable under his control.
Sucking his cock would have been way easier, the hard edges hurted a little and you knew if he started fucking your mouth himself how hard he would do it so you started yourself. Wrapping your tongue around the line, bobbing your head up and down slowly. Iqbal eyes rolled back at the obedience, he murmured praises against your forehead, about you were his good little wife before latching onto your nipple, engulfing the hard pebble into his mouth, slurping loudly around it, switching between biting and sucking constantly that the pain balanced out with pleasure, but soon he decided he did not want to miss a second of you fucking your mouth.
He stood back eyes digging into your skin, your small palm still wrapped around his bicep for comfort while he barely offered any when he plunged two fingers into your soaked entrance, curling his fingers inside to rub against the spongy part in constant strict movement that didn't give you another option than to accept the abuse on your cunt, his thumb rubbed in firm circles over your clit working proficiently so you could come early and he can shove his dick in you, because at this point he was so hard it hurted painfully
The bulge heavy and insistent over the fabric of his shalwar, you squelched loudly the wetness dripping down your cunt and spreading over the mahogany desk as you moaned around the muzzle. Iqbal liked seeing you contained but he also wanted to hear you whine his name. The gun left your mouth abruptly with a soft pop that allowed you to relax your jaw and mouth, “Iqbal ji please chor dijiye na” You whimpered all while your hips bucked to have his finger deeper, the sentence infuriated him enough for him to want to ram the gun down your throat again because of the obvious lie which he didn't enjoy.
He doubled his efforts on your pussy and had you releasing all over his hand, face nuzzled and drooling at his covered bicep when the gun shot went off making you cling harder to him breaking into a sob on instinct and the realisation The gun had bullets??? And he fired that over your heart?
Despite the horror you had only gotten wetter, clunt clenching unclenching around nothing waiting on what he had trained your body by now, his cock. The sound of your anklets were dampened and restricted under the clothes that bunched up at your ankles first he pulled them off in a harsh motion, then he dropped you on your feet on the floor, you expected him to take you to bed and claim you properly but he dragged in front of the long mirror reclined on the wall. Standing behind you, his six feet two swamping your frame and the view in front of you of your used body
You waited to watch what he meant to do, fixing your eyes anything but what was right in front focusing on the chipped edges of the mirror instead, when you felt him take out his hard dick maybe this is the part he throws you on the bed, but he lines himself against your entrance that was looking comically small in comparison to his tout head, “ Iqbal bed pe-” He snarled, and the next second you known the gun was now at your throat. The muzzle now warmed with bullets fired, and the fear came back in full surge washing over your body in tremors.
“ Maine tumse pucha tumhe kya chaiye?”
you shook your head, grasping at the mirror feeling the stretch of his cut head pushing inside your body.
You could see how desperate your own body was getting how your walls extend to accommodate his thickness, the size difference thrilling but it flushed your cheeks, shyly you lowered your gaze onto the floor to avoid the reality of what’s happening to you
"Khabardar jo tum ne apni nazrein jhukaaeen, upar dekho"
The revolver delved into the hollow of your throat as he impelled you slowly on his dick feeding you inch by inch till you were a crying mess forced to look at your ruins from the fear of the weapon your husband threatened you with. He grunted when he finally buried himself to the hilt, the sound sending spasm through your body resulting in you tightening around him, your eyes flickered struggling to keep up "Tumhe ek seedhi si baat samajh nahi aati? Nazrein mujh par tikaye rakho." he spanked his palm at your ass with unrestrained force that made you wail and slap your palm at the glass. “ IQBAL!”
“ Watch how you take me” You looked down unwillingly at the mortifying sight of hips flush against yours from behind, as he pulled back a little you saw how hard you gripped to keep him inside, his meaty flesh red and throbbing with veins that taut on it brushing deliberate at the gummy walls of your insides, you were too tired,too overstimulated for this torture when he started something worse.
He slammed back into you one violent thrust and started a punishing rhythm which was way worse than the slow descent before, your whole world world was blurring with how harsh he was being, body jerking forward and threatening to fall down with the heavy rams but he kept you up with one hand snaked around your waist other still holding the silent reminder to comply by your neck. He was smug like he was saving you from collapsing when he was the one who was enabling it, groaning how tight you were while you struggled to breathe around his cock.
Iqbal had mapped and studied each part of your body by now familiar with each curve and where exactly to hit to find your spot, aggressively snapping his hips to meet that spot so you were forced to be drowning in pleasure when your eyes rolled back from the obvious affect, he hit you again your cheeks burning red with the imprint of his palm.
Iqbal had realised you weren't scared of the gun anymore because the second you were going against his words and that didn't exactly feed into his arrogance and it has served it's purpose now, you were aware Iqbal would never hurt you in spite of having all the means to do so. He grabbed your chin forcing you to look yourself, squeezing your cheeks roughly with his palm that was larger than your face “ Dekh khudko” His groaned his tone and speech getting crass,
"Apni haalat toh dekho, ro aise rahi ho jaise tumhe is sab mein maza nahi aa raha”
you clamped around his shaft watching how he was soaking in your tears with an arousal that didn't even feel human anymore it was that primitive. A victory smirk broke through his face in between of the harsh clenched jaw expression before he lost himself to your tightness again cursing out loud and resuming your breaking.
His cock filled you stretched you out the pain of him bruising your cervix so delicious it bordered on pleasure, and estranged from the lewd scene and noises was the dainty chimes of your ankle as your feet fell above the ground with each thrust due to the obvious size difference, while he forced you to watch. Watch as the fear completely left your face leaving behind only greed, that asked him to ruin you more humiliate you the idea fact that you how small you in front of him in every sense of the word at how little control you had of your life and yet he wouldn't hurt you not in the way it would sting your heart.
"Main sabr nahi kar pa raha us waqt ka jab tumhe samajh aayega ke tumhari jagah kahan hai—sirf mere paas. Tum yahan hamesha mehfooz rahogi, meri mohabbat aur meri jaan ban kar."
Your ankles chimed harder, coerced to let out sound louder than they were meant to because Iqbal wanted to hear it so he had of course roughened his pace. His deep thrusts were mind breaking that your consciousness was slipping and instead of being ashamed your eyes were glued to the view in front you when he finally found the energy to complete his broken sentences in between his moans and groans
“ Aur inshallah jaldi hi mere bacchon ki maa banke”
WHAT? Your eyes shot up over the haze you wanted to move to look over your shoulder but his grip kept you still, and you realised you didn't need to look back at all you met his eyes in the mirror, that glance confirmed it for you he was serious about what he just said and that ‘jaldi hi’ clearly meant today.
You found some sense over the high and tried to scoot away only to be met with his hand rubbing at your now swollen bud coaxing, capturing you slowly into a frenzy that meant you were his captive for life. Your orgasm didn't give you relief by drowning out the knot in your stomach, instead it hit you like a tidal wave with your head still stuck on the fact about what followed after, and you couldn't even form a coherent sentence let alone argue with him as his hips started stuttering. “ Meri jaan” he grunted, forcing himself deeper till his tip found your cervix again, holding himself still as he spilled out his load raw. You felt the warmth seep to your stomach as if already taking root.
“Iqbal” you sniffled defeated, falling limp and wanting nothing more to be in his arms. “ Theek hai aap?” he asked picking you up ,you wanted to pout but you only nodded hiding in his chest.
a/n - its is four am while I post this kuch glat shalat likha ho toh maaf kar dena dont slime me
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