SHADYANTRA — SAAZISH, CONSPIRACY.
Fandom: Dhurandhar. Word count: 4,144. Trigger warnings: Light Bondage, Borderline Somnophilia, Overstimulation / Praise & Gentle Degradation, Unprotected Sex / Creampie. Idiots in Love, Fluff and Smut, Soft Dom Sanaz + Soft Dom Hamza. Ship: Hamza Ali Mazari + Sanaz/Reader (F). Rating: Explicit. Status: Complete One-Shot.
THE CLICK OF the handcuffs locking around his wrist echoed a little too loudly in the quiet of his master bedroom.
Aside from that, there was only the monotonous tick-tock of the wall clock, measuring out the seconds of his rare, unguarded moment.
I crawled up the mattress, shifting my weight until I was straddling his stomach, before reaching down to drag the heavy winter blanket away from his face.
The sudden rush of chilly air hit him instantly, causing his dark brows to furrow slightly in his sleep. Moving like a ghost in the shadows, I took the second cuff, snapping it around his other wrist and securing it to the opposite side of the headboard.
That was all it took.
His eyes snapped open.
He instantly tried to bolt upright, but his momentum was cut violently short halfway up. He blinked against the darkness, his breath hitching, shuddering in his throat until his gaze finally locked onto mine. The tension in his shoulders bled out just a fraction, a low sigh slipping past his lips.
"Yeh sab kya hai, seherzadi?"
[What is all this, my princess?]
I leaned down, deliberately pressing the full warmth of my weight against his trapped body. His gaze dropped, tracking the movement, burning into the space where I sat flush against him.
"Aap bohot pareshan lag rahe the," I murmured, my voice a quiet contrast to the chill in the room. "Socha thoda sahara de doon."
[You seemed very troubled. I thought I'd offer some comfort.]
He looked up through his lashes, his long, wild dark hair spilling against his back and the pillows.
"Aise?" he chided, his voice a low rumble.
[Like this?]
As he moved against the restraints, the remaining cover slid completely off his chest. The shifting fabric revealed the broad expanse of his chestnut skin, the intimidating thickness of his arms, and the coarse trail of dark hair dusting across his chest and down his stomach.
I shifted my weight, sliding up his frame to let him sit up a bit more comfortably, my thighs now tightly straddling his lap.
"Mhm," I murmured, a slow nod escaping me as I deliberately bit my lower lip, letting my gaze drop to his mouth. "Waise aap bolein toh main chali jaungi."
[Mhm. Though, if you say the word, I’ll leave.]
He let out a rough, frustrated huff, his broad chest rising. "Nahi. Magar yeh bedi kholo. Kahan se aayi tumhare paas?"
[No. But open these shackles. Where did you even get them from?]
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I leaned in just close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath. "Jab aap kisi ke neeche ho toh sawal nahi puchhte, Hamza Sahab."
[When you are underneath someone, you don't ask questions, Mr. Hamza.]
He tilted his chin up, refusing to look defeated even from below. In the dim light of the bedroom, the heavy silver chains resting against his chest caught a sudden glint over his skin as his thick beard lifted.
"Aag se khel rahi hain aap, Sanaz Sahiba," he warned. "Kabhi na kabhi toh utrogi, fir sawalon ka jawab bhi dogi aur maafi bhi maangogi."
[You are playing with fire, Miss Sanaz. Sooner or later you'll have to get down, and then you'll answer my questions and beg for forgiveness, too.]
I narrowed my eyes into a defiant squint, refusing to let him see even a flicker of hesitation. "Mujhe aapse dar nahi lagta."
[I am not afraid of you.]
"Darna chahiye," he retorted instantly.
To emphasize the threat, he gave a sudden, deliberate tug at the restraints. The plush cuffs strained against the headboard, the metal clicking sharply in the quiet room. His green eyes locked onto mine.
"Kyunki jab yeh haath khulenge, tab bachane waala koi nahi hoga."
[You should be. Because when these hands are freed, there will be no one left to save you.]
I couldn't help the slow, wicked smile that curved my lips at his threat. "Der hai, Hamza Sahab," I whispered, leaning in until the tips of my nails dug into the thick muscle of his chest, anchoring myself to him. "Filhal ke liye aap mere ghulam hain."
[There's time for that, Mr. Hamza. For now, you are my slave.]
He raised his eyebrows
"Ghulam? Sapne dekh rahi ho, seherzadi."
[Slave? You’re dreaming, my princess.]
I shook my head slowly, my gaze never leaving his. "Aap hi ne toh kaha tha, aap ki jaan mere kadmon mein basti hai."
[You were the one who said your life resides at my feet.]
"Woh ibadat hai, Sanaz," he corrected, "Fark hai."
[That is devotion, Sanaz. There’s a difference.]
By now, the space between us had completely vanished.
Our bodies were pressing tightly together, the contrast of the freezing room forgotten against the roaring heat of his skin. My hands drifted downward, tracing the firm yet plush contours of his abs.
"Fark hai? Theek hai, aaj kuch aur bankar dekh lo," I murmured against his skin.
[A difference? Fine, try being something else tonight.]
I leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, before tracing my lips higher to catch the tiny freckle on his ear. The subtle movement was rewarded instantly, I caught the sharp, heavy bob of his throat as he gulped.
"Bharosa hai na mujh par? Fir ghabra kyun rahe ho?" I teased softly, my breath ghosting over his earlobe. "Aisa toh nahi ki hum yeh pehli baar kar rahe hain."
[You trust me, don't you? Then why are you nervous? It’s not like we’re doing this for the first time.]
He looked up at me. "Dar lagta hai hosh khone se."
[I'm afraid of losing my control.]
I know that feeling all too well. I leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, giving him a knowing smile. "Woh toh aap bohot pehle kho chuke the."
[You lost that a long time ago.]
A sudden flicker of realization crossed his face, stripping away the last of his playful defiance. He didn't deny it. For a second, the room was entirely silent, save for the heavy rhythm of his breathing.
"Shayad sach keh rahi ho," he murmured, a low, defeated chuckle escaping his throat.
[Maybe you're right.]
Before the last word could fully leave his mouth, his face shifted closer to mine, eliminating the remaining distance and claiming my lips in a sudden, bruising kiss. It caught me off guard for a split second, the sudden dominance of his movement taking over despite the heavy cuffs anchoring his wrists.
But the surprise dissolved instantly. I tilted my head, responding with equal fervor, deepening the kiss as our lips moved together in a desperate rhythm, tasting the intoxicating heat of his tongue.
As we finally pulled apart, our breaths mingling in the chilly air, he looked up at me with a heavy, hooded gaze. "Bohot mazak hogaya," he muttered, his voice rough. "Ab kholo ise."
[Enough joking around. Now open this.]
I simply shook my head. "Aaj nahi."
[Not tonight.]
"Bohot ziddi ho," he huffed, a low growl rolling in his chest as he realized I wasn't backing down.
[You are very stubborn.]
Ignoring his protest, I slid down his body, leaving a trail of burning kisses across the broad expanse of his chest and down the tight muscle of his stomach. I leaned over, sinking my teeth into the thick meat of his arm just enough to leave a stinging love bite. Even through his clothing, I could already feel the hard, rigid length of him pressing urgently against my bum.
Slowly, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his sweats and dragged them down.
His breath hitched sharply into his throat the moment I pulled away to sit between his stretched legs. Released from the fabric, his thick cock sprang free in the cold air. I wrapped my fingers around the base, the intense, throbbing warmth of his skin a stark contrast against my freezing fingertips.
He hissed aloud, his eyes snapping shut for a tense moment as his jaw clenched.
I began to stroke him, my palm sliding up and down the thick, heavy length of his shaft, using my thumb to catch the slick bead of precum and smear it over his flushed, swollen head.
"Bass jhooth bolte ho," I chuckled softly, looking up at him through my lashes. "Asaliyat mein aapko sab chahiye hota hai."
[You only tell lies. In reality, you want everything.]
Above me, his teeth were gritted so tightly the muscles in his jaw were jumping. "Chahne mein aur karne mein fark hota hai," he rapped out, his voice strained to the absolute limit.
[There is a difference between wanting and doing.]
"Aap bas mujhe fark sikhate reh jana," I murmured, a quiet laugh escaping me as I leaned in closer. "Fark toh aapko bhi nahi padta."
[You just keep teaching me the difference... not that it makes a difference to you anyway.]
Before he could process the words, I leaned down and swiped a slow, wet lick over the sensitive skin of his tip.
A broken groan escaped his lips, and the handcuffs rattled violently against the headboard as his body instinctively jerked. "Sanaz..." he gasped out between fractured breaths, his chest heaving. "Yeh sab karne ki zarurat nahi hai."
[Sanaz... there’s no need to do all this.]
"Main karna chahti hoon," I replied softly.
[I want to.]
Holding his gaze, I made sure my eyes stayed locked onto his.
The amber glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm, golden sweat over his flushed features, making every sharp angle of his face look incredibly soft yet entirely undone. Keeping that unblinking eye contact, I parted my lips and wrapped them tightly around the crown, my lips stretching to their absolute limit around his massive thickness.
He let out a choked sound, his legs tensing as he planted his feet flat against the mattress, desperately trying to anchor himself to keep from violently moving against the cuffs.
The rest of his heavy length was wrapped tightly in my fingers, my palm sliding against the base. Beneath my tongue, I could feel the thick veins taut and pulsing violently against his heated flesh. Unable to resist the sheer, solid bulk of him, I reached out with my free hand, my fingers sinking deep into the dense muscle of his thigh, squeezing him hard.
I let my tongue slide deliberately over the sensitive underside of the tip. The friction was too much; his hips instinctively gave a slow, desperate push upward into my mouth.
"Yeh sab... Kahan se seekha...?" he gasped out, his voice completely wrecked.
[Where... did you learn all this...?]
"Jaise sab seekhte hain," I answered, pulling back just enough to look at him, a breathless smirk on my lips. "Jaise aapko pata hoga."
[The way everyone learns. The way you probably know.]
He threw his head back against the pillows in pure frustration, the dark waves of his hair framing his sweat-sheened face. The movement accidentally drove him a bit deeper into my throat, and I had to quickly pull away before I could choke.
I wasn't a professional at this, but I knew exactly how to handle the basics to drive him insane.
I picked up the pace, my hand stroking him a little faster, a little tighter, and that was all it took to push him over the precipice.
Before he could even warn me, he was cumming.
Thick, warm ropes of white spilled over my lips and skin.
I let out a slight, startled yelp as the sharp, salty taste of him hit my tongue, completely differing from anything else. But I didn't stop. I continued to stroke his softening length, my thumb teasing the hyper-sensitive tip until the last of the tremors left his body and his hips stopped moving entirely.
The heavy, white mess coated his skin and pooled against his thighs.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, looking down at his completely undone posture. "Itni jaldi?" I teased, my voice dripping with soft mockery. "Pehli baar hai, Hamza Sahab."
[So soon? That's a first, Mr. Hamza.]
A low, defeated chuckle rumbled in his chest as he slowly tried to regulate his ragged breathing, his eyes fluttering open to look at me through the dim amber glow of the room.
"Aise dekhogi toh kaise tik paunga?" he murmured, a raw, hopelessly devoted smile touching his lips.
[If you look at me like that, how am I supposed to last?]
"Ab toh taras kha lo, seherzadi," he murmured. [Have some mercy now, my princess.]
"Uh-huh, itni jaldi nahi," I countered with a soft hum.
[Not so soon.]
Slowly, I slid my underwear down my legs and tossed them aside before shifting my weight to straddle his crotch completely bare.
The moment his skin registered the damp warmth of my pussy pressing directly against him, his entire body stiffened beneath me. A dark, dangerous glint flared in his eyes.
"Achcha?" he rasped, his jaw clenching as he looked up at me. "Lekin yaad rakhna, raat lambi hai... aur ek baar yeh haath khul gaye, toh hisab barabar karne mein mujhe zyada waqt nahi—"
[Oh, really? But remember, the night is long... and once these hands are freed, it won't take me long to settle the score—]
Before he could finish the threat, I reached down and swept my nightdress over my head, discarding it onto the pile of his sweats at the edge of the bed.
The words died instantly in his throat. He blinked, his gaze locking onto my bare chest. Beneath me, I could almost feel the sudden, violent spike in his pulse, his heartbeat quickening as his eyes devoured the sight of me. A low defeated groan tore from his chest. "Zaalim."
[Cruel.]
I didn't give him a second to recover. Shifting my weight closer, I began to slowly grind against him, dragging my wetness right over his length and stomach. The friction was instant and intoxicating, his cock sliding deliciously between my lips and stroking right over my clit. A soft, breathless moan escaped my lips, and I had to plant my hands firmly on his broad shoulders just to anchor myself against the sheer wave of pleasure.
"Enjoying yourself?" he murmured.
Even with his wrists pinned, he surged upward, straightening his spine to eliminate the distance. Before I could answer, his mouth wrapped hungrily around my nipple. His tongue swiped over the tight peak, licking the sensitive skin and pulling me down closer, deeper against him.
He buried his nose in the valley between my breasts, taking a deep breath of my scent, before his lips migrated to claim the other one with the same intensity.
Unable to resist the pull, I arched my back, pushing my chest closer to his hungrily devouring mouth. After a few agonizingly perfect minutes of grinding—until we were both completely drenched in sweat and slick moisture—I lowered my hand between us, guiding his rigid length directly to my aching entrance.
A simultaneous moan tore from both our throats as he finally slid all the way inside. The angle of straddling him forced me to take every single inch, stretching me instantly to the absolute limit. My ass pressed hard against the dense muscle of his thighs, my knees anchored tightly at the sides of his waist.
He tilted his head back slightly against the pillow, his eyes hooded but burning. "Move, jaan. Or are you going to just sit on it and look pretty?"
[Move, my life...]
I let out a breathless huff, refusing to lose the psychological game. "You're not untouchable, mere sher."
[...my lion.]
Setting the pace, I started moving, slowly grinding my hips down against him in a punishing rhythm. He met me halfway, rocking his hips upward with a slow, heavy counter-thrust. I bit my lower lip hard, desperately trying to stifle the whimpers and high-pitched moans building in my throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how completely he was ruining me. A fine sheen of sweat began to break out across my forehead and chest, catching the warm amber glow of the lamp.
"Lean closer, jaan," he rumbled, his voice thick with friction.
I leaned down, pressing our chests flat together, my breasts squishing against the solid expanse of his torso. The sudden shift in angle completely stole the breath from my lungs; every upward surge of his hips was hitting the deepest, most sensitive spots inside me. My thighs began to quiver uncontrollably under the sheer intensity.
"Need help?" he teased, his breathing as fractured as mine.
I nodded desperately against his neck.
"Take these off.”
"No," I gasped out, my fingers tightening on his shoulders.
The refusal was all it took.
Instead of arguing, he took complete control using the only leverage he had left. He started pushing upward a bit faster, a bit harder, his blunt force ripping a sharp whimper right past my defenses. My nails dug deep into the meat of his shoulders, leaving red marks.
"Hamza..." I warned him, my voice breaking.
But he didn't listen. He kept the exact same merciless force, driving the speed faster and faster until the room narrowed down to just the sound of our skin colliding and the violent rattling of the metal cuffs against the wood.
The friction became entirely too much.
I couldn't help but tighten around his thick length uncontrollably, my walls clamping down on him in a desperate bid to slow him down. He adjusted, his pace slowing to a heavy halt, but he kept thrusting up, deep and relentless, anchoring me to the mattress.
"Come on, Seherzadi," he urged against my ear.
I lost all control.
A wave of intense heat crashed over my body. My hips quivered violently as my muscles squeezed him impossibly tight, riding the shattering crest of my high. Above the noise of my undone cries, Hamza let out a guttural curse. His body locked up beneath me as he followed right after, a violent surge rocking his hips as he filled me to the absolute brim.
A long, trembling sigh escaped me. I let my strength give out entirely, resting my forehead against the damp skin of his shoulder as we both breathed heavily into the quiet room.
He pulled out slowly, the thick, mixed release flowing down my thighs to drop onto his stomach, leaving us completely spent in the fading warmth of the winter night.
A soft, breathless smile passed between us, our lips brushing in the quiet aftermath. "Bohot buri ho tum, Sanaz," he breathed out, his chest still heaving slightly against mine.
[You are very bad, Sanaz.]
"Aaj pata chala?" I retorted, my voice a lazy, satisfied purr.
[You just realized today?]
"Bohot pehle se pata tha kaisi musibat ho tum."
[I’ve known for a very long time what a troublemaker you are.]
I tilted my head, looking down at him. "Aur fir bhi mohabbat kar li."
[And yet you still fell in love.]
His eyes softened, holding mine with that intensity that always made my heart skip. "Mohabbat nahi, ibadat."
[Not love... devotion.]
"Aww," I cooed softly.
Deciding to finally be merciful, I straightened up and reached for the keys. With two sharp clicks, I uncuffed his wrists and tossed the metal restraints carelessly onto the bedside table.
As I started to slide off his lap to give him some space, Hamza immediately sat up. He slowly rotated his large wrists, rubbing the faint red indentations left by the plush lining.
Then, he stopped.
He looked up, and the lazy, defeated lover from a second ago vanished, replaced by a dark, simmering look of pure retaliation.
Oh no.
"Ab meri baari," he growled.
[Now it's my turn.]
Before I could even scramble backward, he pounced.
Moving with the terrifying speed of a man who spent his life in combat, he caught me easily. His thick fingers wrapped like iron bands around both of my wrists, pinning them securely above my head as he drove me flat down into the mattress under his massive weight.
I let out a sharp, breathless yelp, my heart instantly hammering against my ribs for a completely different reason. "Hamza—”
"Ab mai aazad hoon," he promised against my skin as he leaned down, completely eclipsing the light.
[Now I am free.]
I looked away, my dark hair splayed chaotically over the pillows, trying to play innocent despite the hammering in my chest. "Main toh bas aapki madad kar rahi thi."
[I was only trying to help you.]
"Achcha?" A knowing smirk brushed against my skin as his lips began a slow, burning trail down the column of my neck, mapping his way toward my chest. "Fir main bhi aapki madad kar raha hoon."
[Really? Then I’m only helping you, too.]
I let out a breathless huff, my cheek flushing a deep, furious crimson under his touch. "Chhoro mujhe, bad manners."
[Let me go, bad manners.]
Slap.
The sharp, sudden sound of his open palm meeting the bare skin of my thigh echoed in the quiet room. I gasped aloud at the absolute audacity of it, my eyes snapping back to his.
"Raat lambi hai, Sanaz," he murmured, his green eyes swirling with a predatory heat that made my knees weak. "Aur tumne bhukhe sher ko jagaya hai."
[The night is long, Sanaz. And you have awakened a hungry lion.]
Before I could protest, his large palm slid up to completely encompass my breast, squeezing firmly until a soft whine caught in my throat. Moving effortlessly, he lined his heavy frame directly against mine. He slid his hand beneath my ass, lifting my hips high off the mattress to angle me perfectly before driving his rigid length back inside with a single, uncompromising push—all while his other hand kept both of my wrists securely pinned above my head.
Slowly he started to move.
The effect was instantaneous. My back arched off the bed, my body entirely at his mercy. He ground against me roughly, the intense, unyielding pressure ripping whimpers right past my lips as my walls clamped down tight around him. My legs dangled helplessly at his sides, unable to find any leverage.
"Best sight," he whispered, his hooded gaze locked onto my undone expression.
"Creep," I grumbled weakly, my breasts bouncing with the heavy force of each upward thrust.
"Creep for loving my wife?" He let out a low huff, his long, dark hair fanning over us like a heavy silk curtain as he maintained his relentless pace. "Kamal karti ho, seherzadi."
[You are incredible, my princess.]
A few more rough, deep thrusts and I was already teetering precariously over the edge. I had never been good at controlling my release, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, the pleasure took over entirely. My hips lifted instinctively against him, my knees going completely weak as the first tremors of my high crashed through me.
Recognizing the shift, his hand slipped down between our bodies, his thumb gently rubbing my hyper-sensitive clit. The extra friction sent me completely over the precipice. I came violently, sobbing his name into the quiet room. "Stop..."
He didn't pull away until he finally reached his own limit, letting out a low groan as he finished deep inside me, the excess of our combined release spilling over my vulva.
I looked down at the mess, the heavy friction having turned everything into a thick, white glaze against our skin. I wrinkled my nose, though there was no real heat behind it. "Gande Hamza."
[Dirty Hamza.]
"Gandi Sanaz," he retorted seamlessly, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
[Dirty Sanaz.]
I rolled my eyes as his grip finally loosened, releasing my aching wrists. We were both a complete disaster, and his bedsheets were definitely going to need a thorough wash.
He pulled me against his broad, sweat-sheened chest, wrapping his heavy arms around me and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of my head. "You okay?"
I nodded, burying my face into his neck and hugging him back tightly. As my hand slid lazily down his back, my fingers brushed against the firm curve of his seat.
I couldn't help but give it a playful squeeze. "Nice ass."
He let out a rich chuckle that vibrated directly into my hair. "You're absurd.”
"What? Can't compliment my husband's curves?"
He took a slow, deep breath, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely can, jaan."
[...my life.]
Reaching up, I grabbed him by the heavy chains resting against his neck, pulling his face down to claim his lips in one last, sweet kiss as he muttered between the kisses.
"Agli baar, hathkadi nahi, apne DUPATTE SE BANDHNA."
[Next time, don't use handcuffs. Bind me with your dupatta.]
If you made it till the end, let me enlighten you. You don't know this, but Saazish started as a smutshot. A series including three oneshots — Sadaf, Smara, Saazish— before it became a 26-chapter novel. I have other smut ideas for the book, but this one didn't fit anywhere. So here it is: a behind-the-scenes look. A "what might've happened that night" oneshot. (For info: Sadaf is now a standalone. Smara will be tweaked and included in the Saazish book.)
Here's my MAIN MASTERLIST. Here's my SAAZISH MASTERLIST. If you don't know me - I'm an artist and DHURANDHAR is my current hyperfixation.
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