#hamza edit

The second the storm passes, his dominance completely melts into a quiet devotion. Sometimes his aftercare looks like pulling your spent body flush against his chest, holding you tight and rocking you slowly like a baby until the last of your trembling stops.

He is incredibly meticulous about your comfort. Hamza will bring warm, damp towels to gently wipe the sweat and slick from your skin, or carry you directly into a quick warm shower if you're too weak to stand on your own. He takes pride in leaving you feeling entirely clean, fresh, and safe.

Only when you are tucked safely under the heavy winter blankets will he finally step away to clean himself up, returning quickly to slot his large frame right beside yours.

His care is deeply romantic: soft kisses pressed to your temple, warm hands gently squeezing your waist, and calloused thumbs wiping away any stray tears. If the vulnerability of the comedown makes you shy, he’ll drop a joke to break the tension and chase away your embarrassment.

And if you're hungry? He’s out of bed in an instant, shifting into the kitchen to prepare something warm and quick: a bowl of steaming soup or a cup of warm milk; ensuring you are fully nourished before he lets you sleep.

B — Body Part [शरीर का अंग / جسم کا حصہ]

Personally, he doesn’t have a single favorite part of you—he worships your entire canvas.

He will kiss the soft skin at the back of your knees, caress the crook of your elbows, or bite the shell of your ear just to hear you gasp.

He wants all of you.

But if he absolutely had to choose, his first answer would always be your face.

He is captivated by the shape of your eyes when you look at him, the line of your nose, and the soft curve of your lips. He will spend hours just tracing your cheeks with his thick thumbs. His second choice would be your hands; he loves the contrast of intertwining his large, rough fingers with yours. And, of course, your waist, where his hands instinctively gravitate to pull you flush against his hips or give a playful squeeze.

When it comes to pure intimacy, it’s your breasts.

He loves the heavy, warm weight of them filling his palms, squeezing them firmly or taking the peaks into his mouth to drive you mad. Down between your thighs, he is entirely fascinated by your clit; he loves how such a tiny, hyper-sensitive organ can completely dismantle your sanity the moment his fingers start to play with it.

As for Hamza’s favorite parts of himself?

He takes immense pride in his long, wild dark hair, his broad, coarse-haired chest, and his hands. He views his upper body as a canvas of his own power, constantly decorating his thick wrists and fingers with heavy chains, solid bracelets, expensive watches, and prominent rings that click dangerously against everything he touches.

C — Cum [वीर्यपात / انزال]

He releases an incredible amount.

Because his early adulthood was violently stripped away by the grinding gears of duty, warfare, and high-stakes infiltration, he carries a deep fear of entirely losing his grip on reality.

When he is inside you, he will deliberately force himself to slow down the moment he feels your walls begin to clench—god, that tight, desperate squeeze drives him straight to the brink of madness.

When the dam finally breaks, his release is thick, heavy, warm, filling you to the brim. He is vocal in the dark, though he rarely lets out a conventional moan; instead, he vents the pressure through guttural grunts, sharp hisses, and breathless curses he simply cannot contain.

In the absolute throes of his high, your name is the only word that rips past his lips.

Unless you are giving him head, he deeply dislikes the idea of cumming on your face or your chest; even when it happens during oral sex, a wave of endearing embarrassment washes over him, and he’ll immediately begin using his fingers or a towel to gently wipe his release off your skin. If he is going to spill outside of you, his preferred canvas is your thighs, your hips, or the dip of your waist; though his absolute favorite spot will always be directly between your vulva, leaving you completely stuffed and marked by him.

When it comes to your climax, he is a relentless hunter. He will ruthlessly chase your pleasure first, letting you come directly against his shaft, his thick thighs, or right into his mouth. He doesn’t care if you feel messy or clumsy in the heat of the moment; he will devotedly lick away every single drop you give him.

D — Dominance [प्रभुत्व / غلبہ ]

For a man navigating a world as lethal as Hamza's, dominance is a survival mechanism.

But the second he finds himself with you, the armor completely drops. To your absolute surprise, the giant, battle-hardened man becomes a gentle protector at home. No matter how much blood, anger, or violence he encounters in the streets of Karachi, he refuses to let even a drop of that poison touch you.

When he dominates you in your day-to-day life, it is never cold or aggressive.

It looks like him playfully sweeping you off your feet, swirling you around the room despite your protests, or planting sudden bites on your neck and cheeks. He expresses his control by annoying you when you're already irritated.

During intimacy, he is entirely the giver, exploring every inch of your body like a conqueror who worships the land. If you start acting a bit too bratty or defiant, he has no problem delivering a sharp, playful slap to your thigh, cupping your jaw firmly in his large palm, or giving a steady, demanding tug to your hair—but he will never, ever be rough enough to cause you actual pain.

Yet, as much as he thrives on pinning your body beneath his massive frame, he is utterly obsessed with the moments you choose to turn the tables. When you squeeze the dense muscle of his arms, sink your teeth into his chest, or aggressively haul him down by the heavy silver chains around his neck, it drives him wild.

He will happily yield to you, letting you take the reins, use his body, and play the master; right up until your thighs grow tired, and he seamlessly reclaims control to finish what you started.

E — Experience [अनुभव / تجربہ]

He is still learning.

Emotionally and romantically, Hamza has never allowed another human soul to get this close to him. Every day with you is uncharted territory, a slow process of mapping out what makes you feel safe, what ignites your passion, and exactly how you need to be loved.

He communicates through these quiet observations. He still occasionally tries to bury his troubles deep inside until you pick up on his mood and call him out; but the years of unbreakable trust you’ve forged always win, and he eventually lays his guards completely bare. He never, ever believed he’d be capable of loving someone after the absolute wreckage of his past—yet here he is helplessly obsessed with you.

When it came to the language of love, he entered your life with zero experience.

Back in Punjab, his younger days were entirely consumed by his studies or running around playing with his sisters. The moment he grew into his frame, he enrolled straight into the Army, trading his youth for grueling training blocks. Even later, when he transitioned to R&AW, his world narrowed down to the bare minimum, with his close friend Rizwan being his only real anchor.

His understanding of a woman's emotional depth was truly cracked open the day he witnessed the heavy aftermath of Rehman Dakait’s son passing away. He had stood by, shocked, watching Ulfat slap Rehman in her blinding grief. Hamza had braced himself for a violent, underworld retaliation; but instead, Rehman had simply pulled her into his chest, holding her tight while murmuring, "Meri jaan."

That single moment taught Hamza the true meaning of restraint.

It taught him how to absorb a woman's pain rather than fighting it. He had always possessed a natural warmth, teasing and joking with his sisters, and he brought that exact same gentle light home to you; manifesting in warm hugs, forehead kisses, and a constant, reassuring presence.

Physically, his slate was entirely clean before you; he had absolutely zero experience beyond standard hugs and innocent kisses.

The man didn't even know how to properly deepen a kiss. But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in an eagerness to learn. Together, you took it slow and steady, turning intimacy into a shared language. Because of his background, he was thoroughly educated on female physiology, making him hyper-attentive the moment clothes hit the floor.

He is a constant checker during sex, his low voice always dropping to ask a protective, "Aap theek ho?"—only picking up the pace when he feels your nod.

Their very first night together was unforgettable.

He didn't finish comically fast; instead, the absolute shock of the new sensation forced him into a state of hyper-focus, taking about fifteen grueling minutes of pure, jaw-clenching mental control before he finally let himself let go.

Now, he has found his rhythm. He can regulate his control realistically without it feeling artificial, but even when he hits his limit, his physical stamina ensures he has more than enough fuel left in the tank to keep going and take care of you.

F — Favorite Position [पसंदीदा आसन / پسندیدہ پوزیشن]

Truth be told, every single position with you is his favorite.

As long as he is losing himself inside you, the arrangement of your bodies doesn’t matter.

But if he were forced to choose, his absolute top pick is classic missionary.

He loves you flat on your back, completely open, vulnerable, and yielding to his massive frame. Whether your legs are dangling helplessly beside his thick hips, looped over his broad shoulders, or pushed all the way up to your chest to give him maximum depth. It allows him to drive into you as deeply as physically possible while keeping his eyes locked entirely on your face, devouring every single undone expression and catching every broken moan that escapes your lips.

His second favorite is cowgirl, letting you take the reins.

He is utterly obsessed with watching you bounce and grind directly on top of him. Whether you are deliberately sliding your wetness up and down his shaft or rotating your hips in a slow, agonizingly perfect circle to milk him, his gaze never leaves you. He lies back, his vision filled entirely with the way your face flushes and the heavy bounce of your breasts with each thrust. His hands never stay still here; they anchor firmly to your hips, guiding your rhythm and occasionally pulling you down harder against his length.

For the quiet, lazy mornings when the Karachi winter chill lingers in the room, he prefers a slow, side-lying style from behind. He will pull your body tight against his chest, hook one of your legs over his hip, and slowly, gently sink into you. It is a soft wake-up call, filled with heavy, warm breathing against your neck and lazy, comforting thrusts.

However, on those rare nights when the undercover stress completely boils over and he is entirely out of his mind, his restraint shatters. He will flip you onto your stomach, forcing your face down into the pillow and pinning your ass up in the air. He drives into you from behind, the heavy impact of his hips smacking roughly against yours in a punishing, relentless rhythm.

Yet, even in this consuming frenzy, his protective core never truly vanishes; he will eventually lean all the way down, burying his face in your hair and crushing you beneath his massive weight—never fully enough to hurt you, but just enough to feel your heartbeat—before pulling your hips back down to continue claiming you until you are both completely spent.

G — Goofy [मज़ाकिया / مزاحیہ]

He isn't entirely goofy or clumsy in the heat of the moment, his focus is far too intense for that. Instead, his playful side manifests as heavy teasing and soft mockery designed to test your absolute sanity by the end of the night.

He loves to use your own confidence against you.

If you are the one straddling him and trying to dominate the room, he’ll just lie back with a smug, knowing smirk and challenge you: "Bas aise hi dekhogi ya kuch karogi bhi?" [Are you just going to stare at me like that, or are you actually going to do something?]

If you start to hesitate or get overwhelmed by his sheer size, he will ruthlessly throw your own words back in your face, whispering, "Tumne hi toh kaha tha, ab pichche matt mudo." [You were the one who said it, now don't turn back.]

It’s only afterward, when the heavy tension has entirely melted from the room, that his truly goofy side comes out. He will crack an absurd joke or tease you gently, pulling you out of your post-intimacy embarrassment just to see you smile.

H — Hair [बाल / بال ]

Let’s be entirely real: the man is a walking canvas of masculine hair.

From the gorgeous, luscious, silky waves cascading all the way down to his waist, to the coarse, dark hair dusting his broad chest, stomach, and strong arms—he is completely untamed.

But do not confuse his ruggedness for a lack of hygiene. Hamza is meticulously clean. Those waist-length waves clearly have a dedicated routine; the man undoubtedly possesses a secret stash of premium hair serums and styling creams to keep his curls looking that effortlessly perfect.

When it comes to his lower half, he keeps things strictly realistic for an undercover man. He doesn't have perfectly smooth, hairless pubes; he simply doesn't have the time or the headspace to worry about full body shaving. (What am I even writing at this point?)

He will occasionally trim for basic comfort, but if he’s deep in the middle of a high-stakes assignment, he lets it stay natural. Fortunately, he is circumcised and highly disciplined about his personal hygiene, ensuring everything stays completely fresh. (I hate dicks.)

My baby's nails are always trimmed short, smooth, and perfectly clean, meaning his hands are completely safe whenever they are tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs.

I — Insecurity [असुरक्षा / عدم تحفظ]

Hamza carries a quiet insecurity about how you truly perceive him.

He is terrifyingly aware of the blood on his hands and the dark, violent nature of his undercover work. Because of this, he is constantly terrified that you will eventually look at him and see nothing more than a ruthless killing machine; he bends over backward every single day to ensure you never feel an ounce of that coldness at home.

He is plagued by the lingering fear that one day his dangerous world will completely implode, catching you in the crossfire—which is why his protective instincts border on an absolute obsession.

During intimacy, this insecurity manifests as an intense fear of physically hurting you.

Even when he is completely undone by his own burning desires, he remains incredibly careful with his strength. If he ever accidentally pushes too hard, bites too deep, or causes you even a flash of physical discomfort, the entire mood shatters instantly.

He will stop dead in his tracks, pulling away immediately as unshed tears well up in his green eyes. He will hold your face in his large palms, his voice breakin: "Mujhe maaf kar do, seherzadi." [Forgive me, my princess.] He will immediately wrap you in a tight, apologetic embrace, rushing to bring you medication or antiseptics if the skin is marked.

Furthermore, if you ever voice insecurities regarding your own autonomy, he will sit with you for hours, completely silent, listening intently before offering grounding words and gentle advice to rebuild your peace of mind.

J — Jealousy [ईर्ष्या / حسد]

Hamza is fundamentally not a jealous man.

He is entirely secure in the foundation of the relationship you’ve built together. He doesn't harbor toxic, controlling thoughts; he genuinely does not care what clothes you choose to wear, who you spend your time with, or where you go out in the city.

However, if a stranger out in public dares to stare at you with untoward intentions or attempts to flirt with you, his demeanor shifts instantly. He won't make an explosive scene; instead, he will simply cast a sharp look that promises violence toward the offender while casually sliding a possessive hand onto the dip of your waist.

He doesn't view the situation through the lens of bruised male pride; his primary instinct is always to check in on your comfort level, ensuring you feel completely safe in the environment.

But if someone genuinely crosses the line and threatens your peace?

He never turns that anger inward, and he will never question your character or your loyalty.

Instead, he handles the threat at the source, charging straight at the offender like a lethal force of nature. You know his violent capabilities all too well—he would not hesitate for a single second to take a life if someone actually dared to harm you or even thought about laying a finger on you.

Yet, for all his overwhelming protectiveness and his terror of a life without you, he is entirely devoid of selfishness: if you ever chose to walk away from him of your own free will, his devotion means he would let you go, prioritizing your happiness over his own.

K — Kinks [विचित्र आदतें / عادات]

He doesn't rely on hardcore kinks.

His desires are far too grounded in pure physical and emotional connection. However, his dangerous undercover lifestyle naturally bleeds into the bedroom, giving him a few highly specific, lethal turn-ons that completely test your sanity.

First is a subtle gunplay.

It is never reckless or hardcore; instead, after ensuring the weapon is completely empty and cleared, he loves to trail the heavy, ice-cold steel of the barrel along the burning skin of your neck, down the center of your chest, and across the dip of your waist.

He does it purely to tease you, anchoring his dark gaze to your face just to watch your eyes widen and hear your breath hitch against the cold metal. He is hyper-aware of the line between dark thrill and genuine discomfort, and the second he senses you tensing uncomfortably, the weapon is put away.

Second, he is utterly obsessed with visual ownership.

Nothing drives him crazier than seeing you dressed in his oversized black kurta or button-down shirt, wearing nothing underneath but a pair of panties—or completely bare.

The sight of his fabric swallowing your smaller frame is a massive trigger for him. He will trail his large hands up the exposed skin of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh possessively. He loves keeping his shirt on you while he handles you, pinning you down and sliding his thick, long fingers between your folds.

He will lean down, his dropping to a low, vibrating whisper against your ear: "Itna yaad kar rahi thi mujhe?" [Were you missing me this much?]—before effortlessly sliding two fingers deep inside to ruthlessly tap against your sweet spot until you're begging.

Finally, he has a low-key fondness for restraints.

As seen when you click those plush metal cuffs around his wrists, he doesn’t mind the thrill of being restrained or pinning you down in return. Because the foundation of your relationship is built on years of unbreakable trust, he finds an intense psychological satisfaction in surrendering control or completely taking yours; though, true to his protective nature, a single word or wrong look from you will make him freeze and abort the play instantly.

L — Location [स्थान / مقام]

No lube, no protection, from the kitchen floor to the ceiling… Ok enough.

To be entirely fair, the geography doesn't matter to him. The moment the tension snaps and you are both ready, he will take you exactly where you stand.

But while the bed is an obvious staple for his long, exhausting nights, his absolute favorite playground is the bathroom.

The man’s estate is elite for a reason, specifically designed with massive, interconnected mirrors that face one another. He loves to exploit every single angle. Sometimes, it looks like him pinning you flat against the steaming shower tiles, his large hands mapping every inch of your skin before he hooks his arms under your thighs, lifting your entire weight effortlessly to fuck you standing up against the rush of water.

On lazy, exhausted nights, it shifts to slow thrusts while you are both submerged in the warm water of the bathtub. But his absolute favorite move is lifting you onto the wide marble counter, pressing you back against the glass so you are forced to watch the endless, breathless reflections of your bodies writhing in his tight grasp.

His secondary choice is the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the estate.

(I know what kind of a man you are, Hamza). When the midnight hours hit and the staff has completely cleared out, he will turn off every single light in the wing. In the heavy, pitch-black dark of the night, he will bend you room-facing or push you forward until your breasts are pressed flat against the cool, unforgiving glass.

The contrast of the freezing window against the scorching heat of his frame driving into you from behind is enough to completely shatter your sanity.

Beyond that, he has a dangerous fondness for bending you flat across the smooth, cold ceramic of the dining table after a late dinner, or clearing the heavy paperwork off his desk in his private work studio to claim you amid the shadows of his operations.

And for the sweltering summer nights? Shifting you right to the edge of the private, moonlit pool; where the water laps against your lower back while he anchors his hands to your hips.

M — Masturbation [हस्तमैथुन / مشت زنی]

Since you entered his life, it is a rare occurrence.

The real thing will always be his ultimate sanctuary, so he only ever resorts to pleasuring himself when you are miles away, the undercover operational stress becomes entirely unbearable, or he is simply missing you to the point of literal heartache.

His approach to it betrays the deep respect at the core of his character. Hamza doesn't keep a single explicit or compromising photo of you stored on his phone. From his perspective, keeping a partner's private, intimate images locked in a digital device feels inherently wrong and cheapens what you share.

While he completely trusts you and would never restrict you from sending them if you truly wanted to, he chooses never to ask.

Instead, he relies entirely on his own vivid memory. He closes his eyes and calls upon the exact shape of your face in the dark, the specific cadence of your voice, and the breathless whimpers you make when he’s driving into you.

He built a mental archive of every second spent in your arms, using that intense imagination to fuel slow, heavy strokes until he releases with a shattered, hard climax.

The moment he is clean, a wave of boyish vulnerability washes over him; he’ll pout to himself in the quiet room and send a quick, sheepish text: "Sorry, couldn't control myself today." You instantly decode the hidden meaning behind the words, quickly typing back a reassuring, "It's okay, meri jaan. No worries. I'm not mad." to completely soothe his mind, keeping him company over text until he finally drifts off to sleep.

Conversely, he is absolutely thrilled when the tables are turned.

Hamza harbors zero toxic double standards; he is supportive of you masturbating and exploring your own body. He finds it incredibly hot that you are in tune with your own desires, and if you ever tell him that you took care of yourself while thinking of him, it sends his ego through the roof, leaving him desperate to get back to you and show you exactly what happens when he handles the task himself.

N — No [नहीं / نہ]

The word "No" is an immutable law to him.

The second it leaves your lips, everything grinds to an immediate halt. Because of the heavy, violent wreckage of his past: where he ruthlessly hunted down and killed his sisters' rapists and narrowly escaped a similar horrific fate himself; he carries an understanding of bodily autonomy. He takes your consent with life-or-death seriousness. There is no hesitating, no questioning, and no coaxing; if you say no, he pulls away instantly and will apologize quietly if he feels he crossed a boundary.

Because of this deeply rooted respect, heavy degradation, dehumanization, or humiliation kinks are absolute hard turn-offs for him. He utterly loathes derogatory slurs, and hearing terms like "whore," "slut," or the heavily loaded Urdu/Hindi equivalent "raand" in an intimate setting completely ruins his mood and genuinely annoys him.

While he is a man of the trenches who will absolutely curse under operational stress, he strictly filters his mouth when he is with you.

Instead, any "humiliation" he inflicts is strictly playful, deeply cultural, and affectionate. He loves to affectionately drop a teasing "khotti" (donkey) when you do something silly, or mimic formal distance by calling you "Sahiba" or a simple "idiot" just to see you pout.

When he talks dirty to you, his words focus entirely on the raw reality of your shared pleasure. He will confront you directly in the dark, his voice low and steady as he murmurs, "You're so wet," "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" or "You look so good when you're fucked by me." It is intensely hot, but it never crosses the line into filthy disrespect.

His secondary, massive turn-off is performance: faking an orgasm or forcing a moan will instantly shut him down. Hamza doesn’t want an act; he wants you completely undone, a genuine, whimpering mess in his arms. Because he has spent years hyper-focusing on your physiology and studying every micro-expression your body makes, he can catch a fake reaction instantly.

But more than that, you never have a reason to perform for him; his physical precision is so absolute, and his understanding of exactly what triggers your pleasure is so precise, that he will always guide you to a real finish every single time.

O — Oral [मुख मैथुन / اورل]

He loves giving it infinitely more than receiving.

No matter the time or place, his default prelude is always to slide down between your thighs to eat you out first. Whether you spread your legs for him or he has to gently coax them open himself, he is completely ruthless down there. He will start by tasting the soft, outer skin of your thighs before diving his tongue deep into your seam, lapping all the way from your entrance to the hyper-sensitive peak of your clit.

If he feels like his access is restricted, his large fingers will firmly spread your lips apart so he can run his tongue up and down or in a frantic, zig-zag motion that completely drives you wild. He harbors absolutely zero shyness in your bed; he will happily trail his tongue lower to lick at your perineum or rim, the bridge of his long nose brushing heavily against your tiny, swollen bud with every stroke.

He will devotedly lick away every single drop of slick and sweetness you give him until you are completely undone.

When the tables are turned and you drop to your knees to take him into your mouth, he becomes incredibly gentle. The tight warmth of your throat completely dismantles his iron control. Because he is intensely aware of his massive size, he deliberately grips the headboard or the sheets to keep himself from bucking his hips, terrified of accidentally gagging or hurting you.

However, when he gets too close to the edge, his primal instincts take over, forcing him to deliver a few helpless, shallow thrusts into your heat. Yet, right before the dam breaks, his protective focus snaps back; he will gently, firmly guide your face away from his length, choosing to spill his heavy, thick release across his own stomach and thighs rather than risking your discomfort.

P — Pace [गति / رفتار]

During intimacy, his baseline rhythm is slow and gentle.

He takes his sweet time embedding himself inside you, letting your body adapt to his massive size before he ever even thinks about picking up the speed or adding a rougher edge to match your desires.

Hamza deliberately avoids reckless, high-speed pounding; his mind knows all too well that moving too fast without proper alignment can cause painful friction, tearing, or even hurt him if the angles aren't perfectly calibrated.

For a man like him, accuracy will always triumph over raw speed.

He is entirely focused on precision placement. He will casually slide his large hands under your thighs or lift your hips to adjust your spine, ensuring that every single thrust; whether it is a punishingly slow drag or a mounting, rhythmic drive, strikes your sweet spot with unerring certainty.

Q — Quickie [जल्दीबाजी / جلدی بازی]

A standard quickie is something he fundamentally dislikes.

To him, a rushed encounter carries too many risks—if you aren't fully slick, aroused, or mentally prepared, the friction could easily hurt you, which is a boundary he refuses to cross.

Furthermore, Hamza views sex as an entire all-consuming experience rather than a mere physical chore to be checked off. If he is going to claim you, he demands the full, unhurried depth of it. (I genuinely think he's an INTJ).

On the rare occasions when time is severely limited but the mutual longing is burning too hot to ignore, he won’t force a hurried completion. Instead, he will redirect that intense energy into heavy, breathless make-out sessions.

He will pin you against the nearest wall, devouring your mouth, squeezing your waist, and leaving your senses completely spinning; giving you just enough of a taste to keep you intoxicated until he can finally bring you home and take his time properly.

R — Romance [रोमांस / رومانسک]

Outside the bedroom, his romance is grounding.

It exists in the quiet, domestic moments; the lingering pressure of his lips against your forehead, the protective way his large hand swallows yours out in public, and the soft sweet nothings he murmurs into your ear when the world gets too loud.

He is a man who shows his love through observation, constantly surprising you by remembering the smallest, most obscure details you’ve ever shared with him, or bringing home thoughtful gifts just to watch your face light up.

During sex, his romantic soul completely colors the physical act, turning raw passion into a form of worship. Mid-thrust, he will frequently pause his rhythm just to raise your hands and press tender, reverent kisses against your knuckles, or slide his large palms down to gently squeeze your knees.

If your hair falls into your eyes, his thick fingers will tenderly comb the long waves away from your face, anchoring his gaze to yours so he can devour your expressions with clarity.

If the intensity of the pleasure brings overwhelmed tears to your eyes, his dominance completely melts; he will softly wipe the moisture away with his thumbs, pressing comforting, quiet kisses to your cheeks.

He is a man deeply rooted in the heavy, poetic traditions of his homeland—he will lean down, his low, vibrating voice brushing like a scorching velvet promise against your collarbones as he whispers Ghalib's timeless words:

"Ishq mujh ko hua na tha pehle, aag ik dil mein laga gayi wo shakhs."

[I had never been in love before, but that person set a fire ablaze within my heart.]

He loves to explore your skin with gentle reverence, trailing warm kisses across the soft swell of your stomach or burying his face completely between your heavy breasts to hide from the world.

And when the storm has finally passed and you are both spent, his favorite place to rest is flat on his stomach with his heavy head resting directly on your chest, completely still, falling asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

S — Surroor / Stamina [सुरूर / सहनशक्ति / سرور / سٹیمینا]

The title says it all.

The absolute intoxication—the surroor—he feels when he is inside you is completely matched by his staggering, relentless stamina. Thanks to his grueling years of elite military and operational training, his body is built for extreme endurance, a trait that translates into a terrifyingly beautiful work capacity between the sheets.

Hamza can quite literally go on for hours without his rhythm faltering.

When he is driving into you, his mental control allows him to pace himself perfectly, hitting his own climax at around fifteen to twenty minutes. If you are the one down on your knees giving him oral, the sheer, tight heat of your mouth speeds up his clock slightly, bringing him to the edge in about ten to fifteen minutes.

His body is so intensely responsive to your essence that he doesn't even need direct stimulation to get worked up; merely sliding down between your thighs and eating you out is enough to make him rock-hard and leaking slick against his own skin.

But hitting his limit once means absolutely nothing to his endurance.

Hamza doesn’t experience a draining cooldown period; he simply does not get tired. The second he clears his release, his breath will catch, his jaw will clench, and he will immediately rally for more rounds. He will shift your bodies into entirely different positions, lifting you up, turning you over, and relentlessly chasing your pleasure over and over again until your own legs are trembling too much to hold him.

T — Toys [खिलौने / کھلونے]

Hamza is devoid of a fragile male ego.

He doesn't view intimacy through a lens of insecure competition; therefore, he never looks at your personal toys as a threat to his masculinity. When he is away on high-stakes, deep-cover assignments for weeks at a time, he is comforted knowing you have a tiny vibrator and a clitoral suction toy to take care of your needs.

When he is home, those exact devices become weapons of absolute pleasure in his large, capable hands. He loves to integrate them into your sessions to tease you or ruthlessly push you over the edge. Sometimes, he will wrap his massive frame around you from behind, holding you completely captive against his chest while he presses a vibrator firmly against your swollen clit, using his other hand to deeply finger-fuck you until your spine goes completely fluid.

Other times, if you've been acting a bit too bratty or defiant, his dominant side will emerge; he will slide a smooth glass dildo—perfectly sized for your comfort—inside you, forcing you to ride it while he holds back his own release, making you weep and beg for his real, thick cock until you're desperately crying out, "Mujhe tum chahiye..." [I want you...]

Furthermore, he is completely unbothered when the tables are turned.

Hamza has zero reservations about you introducing toys to his own body. When you take control and press a buzzing vibrator directly against the hyper-sensitive tip of his length, the unfamiliar intensity of the vibration drives his mind straight into a wall, forcing guttural, breathless curses from his throat as he fights a losing battle against his own stamina.

U — Uncovering [अनावृत होना / بے نقاب ہونا]

He almost never reveals his body completely naked.

Even during the height of intimacy when you are entirely bare beside him, he prefers to keep a barrier up: remaining either fully dressed in his black kurta and pyjamas or, at the very least, keeping his pants on.

This isn't out of a lack of desire, but rather a deeply rooted psychological shield.

He has willingly shown you his skin and the map of violent scars earned from his years in the Army and deep-cover operations, but shedding his clothes entirely still feels like stripping away his ultimate defense mechanism. The trauma of his past and the constant threat of his present make total exposure a massive hurdle.

However, because of the unbreakable trust you two share, he is actively learning. Slowly, and without a single shred of shame or judgment, he is practicing letting his guard down. With every passing month, he unbuttons a little more, undressing in front of you and allowing himself to be fully uncovered, trusting your hands to soothe the ghosts stitched into his skin.

V — Voice [आवाज़ / آواز]

His voice is soft, smooth, and deeply manly.

He entirely avoids the cliché of a cartoonishly raspy or artificially deep and husky growl. Instead, when he speaks to you at home, his tone is incredibly gentle, measured, and slow. When the operational stakes rise and he gets intensely serious, his pitch naturally drops into a lower, more throaty resonance, but it always remains perfectly clear and distinct.

During intimacy, he is entirely quiet, preferring to let the sound of your pleasure fill the room.

He never lets out loud, high-pitched moans; instead, his surrender manifests as a series of heavy, involuntary grunts, sharp hisses, and quiet whimpers he simply cannot control as his stamina is pushed to its absolute limits.

You will hear low, breathless "Ah"s or "Uh"s vibrating deep in his chest, or the ragged sound of your own name slipping past his lips the exact moment his breath hitches and he loses his grip on his restraint.

W — Weight [वज़न / وزن]

Clocking in at an imposing 90 to 92 kilograms.

He is massive in every sense of the word: built with wide, intimidating shoulders spanning well over 50 inches, arms that easily double the size of your head, and thick forearms resembling tree trunks.

His full, broad chest tapers down into a thick, solid stomach that pushes out just a bit with raw mass, yet remains anchored by hard, underlying abs. Combined with his wide hips and dense, heavy thighs, he possesses the kind of thick, imposing frame that completely swallows you whole.

To be absolutely clear: this is NOT a "dad-bod."

He doesn't possess a soft, hanging tummy or a lack of definition.

Instead, Hamza carries the dense build of a man who avoids artificial gym-shredding and lean aesthetics, opting instead for sheer power. He looks exactly like what he is: an elite undercover asset who trains ruthlessly and eats six massive meals a day just to fuel his staggering bulk.

With 18-inch biceps framing your view, his sheer mass makes him capable of effortlessly lifting your entire weight with a single hand and tossing you around the room; yet, true to his nature, he channels that overwhelming strength into holding you with the most careful reverence.

X — X-Ray [एक्स-रे / ایکسرے]

He is long, thick, and heavily veined.

(Why am I writing this?) In a natural, soft state, his length rests around six inches, extending to a commanding seven inches when fully hard. The coloration is slightly darker than the rest of his skin tone, with thick, prominent veins wrapping intensely along the sides of his shaft.

Because he is circumcised, there is no foreskin to obscure his form; his flushed, flared tip remains fully exposed at all times, darkening to a deep purple or heavy reddish hue when his arousal peaks. (I still hate dicks).

But it is his sheer girth that presents five to six inches around. Sliding into you, his immense thickness stretches your soft, plush frame impossibly wide, completely stuffing you to the absolute limit and leaving zero room for doubt about exactly who owns your body.

Y — Yearning [तड़प / تڑپ]

His mind doesn’t often let itself dwell on thoughts of sex.

Because he carries the crushing weight of his operational duties, his default state is to compartmentalize his desires and ruthlessly ignore any distracting urges. He leaves the initiation of intimacy entirely in your hands: and the moment you reach for him, he yields completely, welcoming your body with an intense, deep-seated hunger he otherwise keeps locked away. He desires your soft curves fiercely, but his work demands total focus.

The true depth of his yearning reveals itself the second the pressure lets up.

When the weekend finally arrives or his high-stakes workload dips, his armor completely falls away. He dedicates every spare hour exclusively to you, refusing to leave your side.

He handles his downtime with zero half-measures: either his heavy, tired head is resting quietly in your lap while you brush through his thick curls, or his mouth is buried deeply between your thighs, completely lost in tasting every single drop of your pleasure.

Z — Zzz [नींद / نیند]

Falling asleep immediately after sex is a concept that does not exist to him.

No matter how physically spent or exhausted he is from the grueling rounds and his intense stamina, his protector instinct immediately transitions into aftercare. He will tenderly and thoroughly clean your body, soothe any soreness, and tuck you securely into the bed.

Once you are comfortable, he steps back into his shadowy reality.

While you rest, he will either lie quietly beside you or quietly slip away to his desk to finalize his dark operational tasks, silently compiling data and transmitting crucial, dangerous intel back to R&AW under the cover of night.

If you happen to wake up in the dark and find him working, you simply have to call out to him; the second he closes his laptop, you can slide right into his arms, cuddling close against his massive, warm chest.

No matter what, he will wrap his arms around you and wait, remaining wide awake and watchful in the dark until he is certain you have fallen asleep first before he finally allows his OWN EYES TO CLOSE.

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