HR
FreeFreeDescription
"What are you afraid of, uhmm?" he asked, stepping incredibly close to her until her chest was nearly touching his, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs.
“I asked, what are you afraid of?”
He spoke so loudly that it startled her. He slammed his hands against the wall, pinning her between his arms like a fragile doll.
“By Allah, Aisha, don’t make me repeat myself.”
The way he said it and the tone in which he pronounced her name caused the tears she had been holding back to spill over. She quickly blurted out, “I swear by Allah, it’s just the fear of seeing you like this that made me say it.”
“Ohhh! Fear of seeing me like this? I thought we were past that, hmmm. It doesn't look right for you to be afraid of seeing me like this, considering you were almost...”
She quickly looked up at him with utter confusion, failing to comprehend what he was implying.
The words he almost spoke made him let out a hot, heavy breath, a clear sign that his heart was boiling with rage. He fixed his gaze intently upon her. As for Amra, a wave of intense heat instantly washed over her; despite the cold air conditioner, she began to sweat profusely until she was completely drenched.
Gathering her thoughts, she asked, “What do you mean?”
"You are asking me what I mean? Are you okay? You have the audacity to ask me what I mean?" he shouted angrily, causing her to tremble.
"Okay, let me show you what I am hiding so you will understand." Without a moment's hesitation, he snatched her hijab away with one hand, causing her to jerk upward before settling back down. Terrified and deeply shaken, she dissolved into tears. While she could initially speak, the words now choked in her throat. Seeing what he was about to do—which her mind still couldn't fathom—she summoned her remaining courage and wept, “By Allah the Almighty, I swear I don't know what you mean. I am ruined!”
“Don’t worry, I am going to show you right now. Isn’t this what you prefer?”
Hearing this, she wondered if he mistakenly believed someone had slept with her. A heavy lump of bitter sorrow choked her as she cried, “What do you want from me?”
Placing his hand on his waist, he said, "Didn't you see him when he was trying to rape you? So you won't feel anything even if you look at this, right?" He pointed toward his trousers, attempting to lower them. Seeing him about to strip off his trousers, her breath caught in her throat.
"For God's sake, stop! What is the meaning of this?" she pleaded.
“Oh, I should stop? You want me to stop? Okay then, I will stop, but only on the condition that you undress yourself. Since you can comfortably let some useless, giant man gaze at your body.”
She raised her bloodshot eyes and locked them with his. He stared right back, his face completely serious and devoid of any humor.
“Undress.”
Terrified, she shook her head in refusal. Taking a step back, he folded his arms across his chest, walked over to the edge of his bed, sat down, and fixed his eyes on her. “I don’t want to repeat myself. Undress now!”
Seeing that she was completely helpless, she collapsed to the floor and burst into hysterical tears. He closed his eyes, remaining silent for nearly five minutes before opening them to say, “Come here.”
She stood up, trembling like someone about to face execution, and walked toward him, stopping a short distance away. He studied her closely before suddenly and fiercely pulling her toward him, causing her to fall right onto his lap. Gripping her firmly by the waist, he lifted her, parting her legs to straddle his thighs. Instantly, his mind went into overdrive; the veins on his neck bulged visibly against his fair skin. From the moment he pulled her onto his lap and gripped her waist, he was entirely paralyzed, losing all control as his logical thoughts slipped away one by one. Both of them were in a state of utter panic. Closing his eyes, he pulled her tightly against his body, resting his head by the side of her neck while breathing heavily. His hot breath caused her to instinctively wrap her arms around his shoulders, arching her neck as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face.
He remained in that intense embrace for nearly thirty minutes before finally pulling his neck back. Leaning back slightly with his hands, he closed his eyes and whispered, “Get out.”
As if she had been waiting for that exact command, she quickly shifted her body to get off his lap, a movement that made him close his eyes tightly. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she grabbed her hijab and rushed toward the door, but he cut her off.
"Come and pick this up." He pointed to the coffee.
Wiping her tears in a frantic hurry, she snatched the cup and rushed out of the room, letting out a heavy, ragged breath.
Once she left, he lay flat on the bed and closed his eyes, overcome with immense regret over what had just transpired.
“Guy, what on earth are you thinking? Focus! Don't let yourself be humiliated or disrespected by a mere little girl,” one side of his mind scolded. But another voice immediately countered, “She is your fucking wife.”
He punched the mattress violently and growled, “Hell nooo!”
(And I, the author, say: Keep shouting in English all you want, it's all in vain because you are on the verge of the very embarrassing display you dread so much!).
Auren Katin Kasa (The Contract Marriage)
A Romantic Love Story
Written by Queenmarh
Chapter 110
Update: September 5, 2023
Drenched in tears, Amra ran down to her room, her mind completely blank. She was suffocated by a wave of humiliation and bitter regret for ever going up to his room. However, she couldn't bring herself to blame him; she blamed herself entirely for entering his space. Even though he had previously shown that he wanted nothing to do with her, she had noticed him softening over the last two days. In fact, she had specifically asked Nadine about who took care of her during her medical crisis, and Nadine confirmed that the General himself had summoned the doctors. Today, however, she had witnessed a dark, terrifying side of the General that she had never seen before. What confused her the most were his bizarre accusations. Could it be that he views me as a loose, unchaste woman? she wondered bitterly.
Tears spilled over again as she regretted going up there, even though she had only done so to follow his rules. Earlier, when he arrived home, she had been standing by the water dispenser fetching warm water to drink—since her period started, she had avoided cold drinks in favor of warm water, which was easier to get from the dispenser. Wiping the tears from her face, she told herself there was no use crying. At this point, no matter how harshly he treated her, she felt she couldn't blame him, believing she deserved it for causing him so much pain.
Standing up, she stripped off her light gown, went into the bathroom, and let the hot shower cascade over her body. Instantly, memories of the encounter rushed back. Squeezing her eyes shut as the water hit her beautiful face, she recalled how he cornered her and how close they had come to crossing the line. She pressed her thighs tightly together as she remembered him lifting her by the waist and placing her on his lap. Sitting tightly against his body, she had felt a distinct hardness beneath his thighs, though her innocent mind couldn't quite comprehend what it was. She stayed under the shower for a long time before wrapping herself in a towel and stepping out. Avoiding even a glance at the discarded gown on the floor, she opened her closet and pulled out a thick pajama set, even though she knew it might feel stifling. After dressing, she dimmed the room lights, climbed into bed, and pulled the blanket completely over her head.
A whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind. She resolved to confront him directly about the terms of their marriage contract (yarjejeniyar su). That was the only thing she needed to clarify so that everything between them could be settled, allowing her to finally return to her siblings. After all, her years of hard work and studies felt utterly meaningless now. She kept tossing and turning, desperately trying to push away the memories of their intimate encounter. It wasn't until around 2:00 AM that a deep sleep finally stole her away.
Meanwhile, after her departure, the General remained lying on his bed exactly as she had left him for nearly an hour, unable to lift a single finger. He felt completely weak because his physical desires had been violently aroused. For the first time, he realized the full extent of his virility; what he felt in that moment far surpassed a normal erection, even though he usually suppressed such urges. Slowly, the overwhelming sensation began to subside. Dragging himself up with great effort, he walked into the bathroom. Standing before the shower, he violently ripped off his shorts, which felt suffocatingly tight because his penis was fully erect, straining against the fabric. Looking down at his hard manhood, he quickly averted his eyes and turned the cold shower directly onto his lower abdomen. As the freezing water hit his lower body, he let out a sharp gasp, groaning, “Arhhh.”
He spent nearly half an hour under the cold water until his body finally calmed down. After quickly washing and wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out, dried himself, and pulled a silky pajama set from his closet. He lay on his bed, but sleep completely eluded him for the next two hours. He kept his eyes shut, desperately trying to purge her from his thoughts, but he couldn't.
The call for Dawn (Asuba) prayer echoed while he was still wide awake. He forced his bloodshot, heavy eyes open. His heart was heavy with anxiety, though his stern face remained perfectly unreadable. Unable to go to the mosque, he offered his prayers at home. The moment he finished, he collapsed back onto the bed and fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
He didn't wake up until 12:00 PM, jolted awake by the persistent vibration of his phone. Reaching for the device, he saw "Ammah" flashing on the screen. Before he could answer, the call cut off. Setting the phone aside, he swung his legs out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He took a long, relaxing bath, stepped out, and dried himself with a towel. Standing in front of the dresser, he rubbed expensive lotion into his skin, pausing to look at his reflection in the mirror. His flat stomach and prominent six-pack abs were on full display—a result of his rigorous exercise routine. He dressed in a crisp, white Adidas t-shirt and track pants. The athletic wear fit him perfectly, accentuating his heavy muscles. Exuding a rich fragrance like someone heading to a pageant, he sat on the edge of the bed and dialed Ammah's number. It rang twice before she answered.
“Assalamu alaikum, son.”
“Alaikum salam, Ammah.”
Ammah smiled warmly, hearing the voice she had missed so dearly. It had been nearly three to four years since she last laid eyes on him.
“Son, are you okay? How is work?”
Letting out a soft breath, he replied, “Alhamdulillah, Ammah. Are you all fine? How are the kids?”
“We are perfectly fine, son. We are expecting to see you soon, Insha Allah. The children are so excited.”
“Very soon, Insha Allah, Ammah.”
“It's best you return home. I need to find you a sensible, well-behaved woman from among my relatives' daughters to marry.”
He went quiet, finding the topic of marriage incredibly heavy. Changing the subject smoothly, he asked, “Is everything else fine? Are the kids attending school?”
Ammah let out a wise, maternal smile and said, “Yes, they are. The driver takes them and picks them up. But I must ask you, Muhammad, are you on speaking terms with your brother? Do you ever call him?”
"Uhm, uhm," he muttered evasively.
“Oh, Muhammad, I have told you repeatedly to put the past behind you. Even though he is the eldest, just because he didn't act with maturity doesn't mean you should follow in his footsteps. I know you don't call your Daddy either, because he complains to me about you constantly.”
He listened quietly to her advice before replying in a calm, respectful tone, “Everything will be rectified, Insha Allah.”
Ammah smiled again. “Masha Allah. When should we expect you?”
“Once the travel arrangements are finalized this week, I will let you know, Insha Allah.”
“May Allah bless you. May He bring us to that day.”
"Ameen, ya Allah," he replied quickly. They exchanged farewells, and he hung up.
Meanwhile, Ammah looked at her phone, noting the new number he had used to call her, which she saved as a special contact. Knowing the high-profile nature of his military work, she thought nothing of it. She set her phone aside as it was time for prayer. After praying, she went downstairs to check on the food she had instructed Lantana to prepare, as Salima and Salim would soon be home from school. Opening the kitchen door, she found Lantana busy scooping white rice into a food warmer.
"The champion of hard work, you're already done?" Ammah teased.
Lantana knelt respectfully. “Welcome, Hajiya. How is your leg pain?”
"Alhamdulillah, Lantana. I left you with so much work, right?" Ammah replied with a warm smile.
“Oh no, it's nothing, Hajiya. I am completely done. I've taken the soup off the fire, and I am just finishing frying the chicken.”
“Wonderful. I was worried the children would return home hungry before the food was ready.”
“Everything is ready, Hajiya. I am wrapping up now. Even Salim's milk porridge (kunun madara) is done.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Lantana. May Allah reward you.”
Lantana lowered her head shyly. “Ameen, Hajiya.”
As Ammah turned to leave, limping slightly due to her leg, Lantana called out, “By the way, Hajiya, Malam Labaran came by not long ago while you were resting. I told him you hadn't woken up yet, so he said he would return later.”
“Oh, bless him. You should have woken me so we could greet each other. Malam Labaran is truly dedicated to maintaining family ties.”
Noticing Lantana's pleasant smile, Ammah smiled back and exited the kitchen. She sat in the parlor to watch a lecture on Sunnah TV that she rarely missed. A few minutes later, a loud car horn blared through the compound, signaling the children's return.
As the gate opened, the driver parked the car. Salima was the first to step out, looking beautiful in her school uniform. Though she wasn't plump, she possessed a naturally stunning, well-proportioned figure. Shielding her eyes from the scorching sun, she complained, “Malan Mamman, the sun today is incredibly brutal, honestly.”
The driver, whom she called Mamman, laughed as he turned off the ignition. “Hajiya's daughter, it has been intensely hot these past few days.”
Salima grabbed her school bag, opened the back door, and sighed. "Malam Mamman, I swear I cannot carry this big boy. Please wake him up so he can walk on his own feet." With that, she headed toward the entrance.
Just then, Aman's car pulled into the driveway. Watching her from a distance, Aman felt a sudden wave of peace wash over his heart. The aggressive manner in which he honked his horn and drove into the compound made Salima halt. The sun was blinding, obstructing her view. She squinted, blocking the glare with her hand. Recognizing his car and his distinct parking style, she knew it was him. It had been nearly a month since she last saw him at the house. She rolled her eyes and was about to turn away when something caught her attention. Malam Labaran, who was about to leave the compound, noticed Aman's car and stopped. He hadn't seen Salima's car arrive because he had been chatting with the security guard by the backyard. Labaran walked over and opened the car door for Aman. Stepping out of the vehicle, Aman completely ignored Labaran's polite greetings and snapped, “Wash this car immediately. I am heading out shortly.”
Submissively, Labaran replied, “Right away, sir.”
Salima stood there, witnessing Aman's sheer arrogance and blatant disrespect toward staff. She sneered, having heard every word clearly despite the blinding sunlight. A man who has absolutely no respect for human dignity, she thought, huffing in disgust. She caught his eye just before she dashed into the living room. Aman watched her retreat, his mind flooded with thoughts. Despite her constant coldness and attitude toward him, the girl had completely captured his heart.
He followed her into the parlor, where he found her sitting beside Ammah, whining playfully. “I swear, Ammah, I am completely exhausted today. We had our mid-term tests.”
Ammah stroked her face gently. “Sorry, my dear girl. You are almost done, Insha Allah. May Allah grant you success.”
"Ameen, my Ammah," Salima chirped, casting
