The Rule

"I came to ask for your hand in marriage but you didn't want me." 

His warm breath whispered against her lips, sending shivers down her spine. A faint bruise at the corner of her mouth added a tender vulnerability to her features, heightened by the soft sheen of sweat on her skin.

As night fell, a hush settled between them. The moon, now perfect and pretty in the sky, cast a soft, ethereal glow. Its gentle light illuminated Inayat's tear-stained face, and in that moment, she seemed even more breathtakingly beautiful to him. His heart swelled with longing, drawn to her with an intensity that left him breathless.

He felt an irresistible pull, his heart yearning to draw her even closer, to hold her with an intimacy that transcended their present closeness. Nothing seemed to stand in his way now, no barrier to hinder the desire that threatened to consume him.

The mere thought sent a sly grin spreading across his face. He edged closer to her, his proximity making her breath catch in her throat. A mix of pain and nervous anticipation held her frozen, her senses heightened as she waited for his next move.

He grinned wickedly, his eyes glinting with awareness of the effect he had on her. "I wanted to make you my wife," he growled, his voice low and husky. As he spoke, his hand slid between their entwined legs, his fingers seeking the sensitive spot that would unravel her completely.

Her breath caught, eyes widening in alarm. The fear that flickered in her gaze only fueled the inferno burning within him. His desire to toy with her, to unravel her further, surged like a flame fanned by the wind.

"But you didn't like that, did you?" he rasped, his voice tinged with a raw, volatile emotion. His emerald eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, like green flames that threatened to consume them both.

His fingers danced, wet and teasing, between her sensitive folds. Every gentle touch made her whimper, and he pushed her further, craving the sound of her cries. "Stop it!" she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks and disappearing into the dark halo of her hair, which spread out around her head.

He chuckled, a low, husky sound. "Someone's getting angry, I see?"

Her jaw clenched, teeth gritted in rage. Her eyes blazed with defiant fury, burning bright and fierce as they locked onto his. The raw hatred emanating from her was palpable, and he reveled in it, his satisfaction evident in his gaze.

"I swear, one chance is all I need, and your head will be mine to claim." Her voice was low and husky, trembling with restrained fury.

"Ah, my ravishing, fiery enchantress," he whispered, his breath dancing across her skin. "Missing the weight of your sword in your hand, the rush of battle in your veins?" His fingers trailed along her jawline, sending shivers down her spine.

"Just give me one moment," she spat, her eyes blazing with defiance. "And I'll show you your place — beneath me."

He chuckled, low and husky. "Not yet, my love," he murmured, stealing a kiss on her open lips. "For now, I'm above you." He repeated the phrase, his voice dripping with sensual promise. "Inside you, pleasuring you, devouring you whole."

He leaned in, his lips claiming hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. The air was electric with tension as they clashed, their mouths wrestling for dominance. She knew better than to resist, yet she couldn't help but try. Finally, she yielded, letting him deepen the kiss.

Breaking apart, he gazed at her flushed face, the soft moonlight illuminating the rising blush on her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled, a mixture of defiance and surrender.

"You refused to be my wife," he whispered, his voice a low, deliberate drawl that sent shivers down her spine. The words hung in the air like a challenge, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. His eyes burned with intensity, sinking deep into hers like embers igniting a fire that would consume them both. The moonlight dancing across his face cast eerie shadows, accentuating the sharp planes of his features.

In that moment, he craved the inferno that raged within her, wanted to feel the flames of her fury scorch him like a branding iron. The air was thick with tension, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth hanging heavy, a jarring contrast to the turmoil that brewed between them. For he, too, was ablaze, consumed by a vengeance that seared his very soul, the flames of his anger licking at his skin like a living thing.

She spat the words, each one venom-tipped, "Becoming your wife would have been a curse!" Her voice was a low, deadly hiss, the sound sending shivers down his spine.

He hummed, a low, menacing sound, as his hand crept up her hair, the strands wrapping around his fingers like a snare. His grip tightened, the tension in his fingers echoing the turmoil in his eyes. "Ah, I see," he whispered, sending shivers coursing through her veins.

He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, as he drove deeper into her with a fierce thrust. Her cry was music to his ears, but her eyes remained defiant, blazing with fury as she glared into his. Her grasp on his shoulders tightened, her nails digging deep into his flesh like hooks, drawing blood that trickled down his back like crimson tears. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the musky aroma of their passion, fueling the inferno that raged between them.

"What else, sweetheart?" he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. He bit down on her shoulder, the gentle sting followed by a soothing kiss. His grip on her hair tightened, and he tilted her neck, exposing the vulnerable skin to his ravaging lips. Wet, needy kisses trailed down her naked chest, sending shivers coursing through her veins.

Her pulse quickened, the pain and pleasure mingling into an unbearable cocktail. "I hate you," she whimpered, the words trembling on her lips. She tried to push him away, her hand splayed across his chest, but he was unyielding.

The pat on his chest was a feeble attempt to push him away, but he merely chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. He left a gentle bite on her collarbone, a mark of his own defiance. Then, he gazed at her, his expression softening.

"I hate you, too," he whispered, his voice low and solemn. The words hung in the air like a challenge, but his tone was unexpectedly gentle.

She heard him, but didn't respond. Instead, her throat constricted, aching with unshed tears. She saw the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his emotion, and it shook her to her core.

Their gazes locked, the tension between them palpable. Then, he witnessed the dam break, her eyes brimming with tears before they slowly rolled down her cheeks.

His heart remained an unyielding fortress, refusing to yield to emotion. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he growled, "That's why you'll be my mistress now." The words dripped with possession, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

She scoffed, a harsh, mocking sound, expecting nothing but cruelty from him. He smirked, a cold, calculated smile, before driving deeper into her, his thrust sending a wave of sensation crashing through her. Her stomach fluttered, a rush of heat flooding her veins.