Disclaimer: This fic is rated PG15 just to be safe. It has a dark!possessive!Rey, just like how I truly imagine him to be. The characters may seem a little OOT because I'm fairly new to this style of writing and content and thus feel completely out of my comfort zone. Which is also why it's insanely long. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!
Seduction Times Two
"Everything in the world is about s*x..." She informs him one day. He looks up at her and she continues "...except s*x. S*x is about power." He looks at her disbelievingly. "Oscar Wilde said that." She says with a shrug.
--
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
bas chal raha na iss ghadi
He watches her from the shadows. Watches the way she moves to the beats, loosing herself to the music. A jolt of want pierces through his body at the look of pure bliss on her face. Before he can think about it, he's on his feet and moving towards her. The trance is broken and his steps come to a sudden halt the moment he sees an arm slide across her waist.
His jaw tightened and his hands clutch into a fist. The need to see what she would do next battling with the need to reclaim what's his.
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
bas chal raha na iss ghadi
In the end curiosity wins out and he watches as she takes his hand in her hers, away from her waist and casually pulls away. He feels himself relaxing only to tense up again as she comes spinning into his arm. Moving his hand to her waist, she casually moves her hand up his back. In response, involuntarily, he feels the hair at the back of his neck rise. He knows the exact feel of her body, the weight of it. The texture of her hand, so small in his. He looks up and stares. From where he stands hidden by a pillar at the edge of the dance floor, he sees everything.
Ras hasrat ka nichod doon
Sees the way she's swaying softly in his arms. His hand on the small of her back. Her laughing up at him. So casual and normal. Like there is nothing wrong with what is going on. That it was acceptable for her to be in his arms. In anyone else's arms but his.
Kas baahon mein aa tod doon
His blood runs cold even as he stands completely still, his eyes transfixed by the sight in front of him. There is a storm raging inside him. Fury battling with desire. Jealousy with curiosity. She is whispering in his ear now. He can see it all so clearly. The way his head dips down, her lips close to his neck, her breath must be fanning his ear, and her body twisted in his arm, is so close to his - too close.
Chaahoon kya jaanu naa
Chheen loon chhod doon
However it is the way his hand reaches up and fingers through her hair, pushing a few strands and tucking them behind her ear that finally does him in. That small act of intimacy seems to weigh the heaviest. He storms onto the dance floor and rips his hand off her and pushes him back, all the while his eyes never leaving her face.
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun
It was her eyes that had first caught his attention. Eyes that had rebelled and stood out against the mask. Eyes that had always given her away against all the excuses and reasons. Her eyes that had always remained loyal to her heart, to him, that had always been his. He watches the way the same eyes widen. Watches how surprise is quickly followed by realisation and at last a sliver of fear. He feels his lips curve into an ugly sneer in response.
Iss lamhe kya kar doon main
jo mujhe chain mile aaraam mile
He doesn't remember much of what followed after. Her protests a distant voice against the noise inside his head. The streetlights rushing past as he sped to put as much distance as he can between the club and them. Her hands on his arm, asking him to slow down. The burn of the tire. The screech, the halt, the keys, the door and then her. Only her. The feel of her skin under his hands. Her hair, her face, her lips. His fingers trying to wipe away the traces of his gaze on her. His. She was only his.
Aur ho... Aur ho...
Saans ka shor ho aanch bhi aur badhe
She tries to move away from where he has her pinned next to the door. He flexes his arms and moves in closer to her frame against the wall. Reducing the distance between them, he levels his face down to hers and looks deep into her eyes giving her a glimpse of the war raging inside. Almost instantly, she stops moving, stops struggling. Held captive by the sheer intensity of his gaze more readily than if he had used force. They've gone completely still now. So still, she's afraid if she so much as takes a breath, the world would catch on fire.
Aur ho... Aur ho...
Saans ka shor ho taap bhi aur chadhe
His close proximity is making her heady, there is not enough air and she can feel her lungs burning. Her lips have gone dry. She needs to break away. She can't handle this. It's too much, not enough, too strong all at once. She should say something, do something. Still trying to figure out a way, she unconsciously turns her lower lip in, biting down on it lightly and breaks the spell. In that moment, she swears she actually sees his eyes turn darker with raw hunger. Before she can even finish her thought, his lips are on hers and she's sinking.
Aur ho... Aur ho...
Aur mile hum aur bhi jal jaaye
Not enough. He thinks as he delves deeper into her taste. His hands are in his hair one moment, on her face the next, and then on her neck, angling her face right as he shatters her to pieces and she lets him. There is never enough. He can't ever get enough of her. Then how could she? How could she give herself to someone else? Any part of her, even a small part of her? How could she when she knew that even when she gave her everything it was still never enough for him. That he was always left craving more. Didn't she know that? He wonders as he takes control of the kiss. Bruising, punishing, marking. He'd make sure she never forgets. Make sure she thinks of him the next time she smiles at someone. Of his lips on hers.
Tujhe pehli baar main milta hoon har dafaa
Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew she was trying to say something. Could feel her lips struggle to form words against his. But he didn't need her words. Didn't need anything other than her, just her, all of her. His teeth graze her neck, jaw, ear.
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
He pauses with a start as if remembering something then spins her around and traps her against the wall again. This time her back pressing into him as he wraps his arms around her. As slowly as he can, he trails his hand up her arm leaving goosebumps in his wake. As much a punishment for her as it is for him. He should have stopped her, shouldn't have let all this happen, shouldn't have let another near her.
Tujhe chheen loon ya chhod doon
Maang loon yaa mod doon
Bunching her hair up in his hand, he leaves open mouthed kisses across her shoulder. And then, without warning, bites down at her nape, hiding a grin against her skin at the keening sound he pulls from her. His own personal reward. An acknowledgement that she may have been in another's arm but he's still the only one who knows what turns her on.
Iss lamhe kya kar jaaun
He feels her writhe against him then, knows she's trying to turn, to touch, to reach out to him, to take control. He pushes into her harder. She was in control at the club because he had let her. But she hadn't realised that now had she? Had abused her freedom, betrayed his trust. She'd forgotten that this was their little game and there was never any room for a third person. Ever. When he'll remind her tonight, he'll make sure she'd never forget.
Iss lamhe kya kar doon
Jo mujhe chain mile aaram mile
His fingers dig into her waist, where he had touched her, as he tightens his arm around and buries his face in her hair. Breathing in her scent, his lips tantalisingly close to her ear, he lets his left hand slowly travel up, ghost trailing her face. Close enough to feel her skin reverberate and yet far enough for her struggle in his hold, to try to turn and feel his hands on her. He tuts and pulls away, chuckling darkly at her miffed mewl. He wonders what her voice had sounded like whispering in his ears. Was it dark and rich like melting chocolate, deep and heady rich like malt whiskey or soft and silk like forbidden promises?
Aur ho.. Aur ho
Saans ka shor ho aanch bhi aur badhe
He moves his fingers into her hair as he wonders, caressing them down her scalp. Twirling the strands around his hand, he pulls them to the side with a jerk. Right not left, he thinks and loosens his grip and changes hands. Softer this time. Her gasp from before still hangs in the air between them, punctured by their rapid breathing and the sounds of his hands on her body.
Aur ho.. Aur ho
Saans ka shor ho taap bhi aur chadhe
Satisfied he looks down. His fingers had touched her right ear. He traces the outer shell of that same ear with his tongue. Planting butterfly kisses along the trail, he twirls his tongue around her lobe and sucks hard. He wants to whisper in her ear like she had in his but chooses to let his body do the talking instead.
Aur ho.. Aur ho
Aur mile hum aur bhi jal jaayein
His hands have dipped lower while his mouth continues to lavishing her ear with attention, peppering it with kisses, teasing it with licks, punishing it with nips and bites. He only stops when her shaking becomes uncontrollable and all he can hear is her cracked, broken voice chanting variations of his name.
Main hasrat mein ek uljhi dor huaa
Suljha de ho ho...
A voice he knows he's pulled from deep inside, it's the one she keeps hidden for those special times, times when words aren't enough, silence is overwhelming and emotions are far too much. Times when the search for release leaves all forms of civilities behind, all facades, all pretenses. Raw. Primal. Pure. Times she only experiences with him. Because she's his.
Main dastak hoon
Tu bandh kiwaado sa
His work here is almost done. Almost but not yet. He looks down once more and wraps a strand of hair around his finger and places it behind her ear. Hugging her closer to him, he bends his head and bites down on her ear. Hard enough to leave a mark. His.
Khul ja re ho
Satisfied for now, he continues to hold her close, caged in his arms. This is where she belongs, in his arms. Always.
O bebasi mann mein basi
Aa jeete jeete jee le sapna
It is only when she turns her face to his and catches his lips in a soft kiss that he breaks out of his trance. Remembers what he was doing here, right now and why. He calls the shots now. He sets the pace. Because she already used her chance - with someone else. He breaks the kiss and turns her around to face him.
Ruke se naa ruke
Ye naa thake
Aandhi si jo chale inn saanso ki
Her face is flushed, her eyes dazed and glassy, her lips swollen. He loves how disoriented she looks, how undone.
Pata bhi naa chale kahaan pe kya jale
Hai darr se, tann-mann ki, siharan se
Hasrat ki, sulgan se
Her hair are all over the place and he moves to settle them down. He is so fascinated by them. She thinks him strange when he tells her, but he loves the way they smell like meadows and citrus. Loves the way they feel around his fingers, so willful and with a mind of their own. He knows she hates them some days. Wishes they were straighter, silkier, smoother. But he loves them just the way they are, because as unruly as they may be, they always obeyed his fingers. Allowed his hands to treat them however he liked. They were tame just for him. He leafs his fingers through them now, tightening them in his fist as he lifts her off the ground.
Bhadke aur shola shola
Jale bujhe dhuaan dhuaan
O dhuaan dhuaan
Lage mujhe dhuaan dhuaan o
Instantly and without a thought, her legs wrap around his waist and her hands tightened around his neck as she turns her face to his, giving up, giving in, surrendering. When he kissed her next, he swallowed her blood along with her moan.
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
Meri bebasi ka bayaan hai
--
Later, much later as they lay on the wooden floor by the door covered in a sheen of sweat, he feels her chuckling against his side as he casually fingers a hickey he left on her. Looking up just as she rolls to lay on top on his, he catches her wincing with the movement. His grin widens. She swats at him playfully and smirks down at him victoriously as she places her chin on his chest and traces a finger down his jaw. He arches his eyebrow. There's was something about that glint of mischief in her eyes.
"Rey woh kal raat aap itni jaldi mein the..." He stiffened and tightened his grip around her waist. Mine.
"Ruke hi nahi..." She's struggling with her words. "Mile hi nahi..."
Choking and spluttering now, she continues "mere Dehradun wali maasi ke bete se..." She finished on a peel of laughter.
He stared up at her stumped. She had known he was there all along. Had known he had been watching her throughout. She'd known.
And he'd been played.
By his wife.
Again.
---
He had disagreed with Mr. Wilde strongly then and had told her as much, at length and in detail. But she had a way of bringing him around. She always did.
---
Let me know what you think!
CP
Debate Mansion
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