#i write

Ruknuddin had tried, no doubt about that, to reach old connections, bribe the justice system, and even had managed to steer a lawyer to his side.. Until he met the same fate as his father, dead in a ditch somewhere.. But this time around, nobody reacted to a Khilji death as they should have - no media covered the "accident", no reporter rushed to get a story, as if it was all brushed under the carpet.

Allauddin didn't 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to kill his youngest cousin, but he knew that you keep a throne, you had to clear out the weeds around it.. He also knew that Jahan would explode in the best possible way.. And she did.

That evening, Jahanara stormed the Hindnama head office, knife in her hand, eyes blazing in fury, fat tears welling up, making her vision blur. No one stopped her, no one dared..

The door to his office was open, as if he was waiting for her to come in like a storm. There he was, sitting in the dark, blood still drying on his boots as he lit a cigar..

"I knew you'd come.."

Jahan didn't care for thr mirth in his tone, or the quirk of his eyebrow, she was seething, like a cornered animal whose den had been colonized by another predator.

"Kya paya hamari bhai ko maar kar?" (𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳?)

Rich smoke curled around Allauddin's face as he exhaled, before whispering.

"Takht ko kayam rakhne ke liye kaante ukhad ne padte hai.." (𝘛𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦) "you were the one who brought him here, remember?"

Her fist curled tighter around the handle of the knife.

"By that logic, you are the biggest thorn my family has ever come across." She hissed, taking a step forward.

His eyes flickered once at the glinting blade.

"Knife niche rakho Jahan.."

She opened her mouth, but_

"Put that fucking knife down, 𝙣𝙤𝙬!"

She didn't keep it down as much she threw it, the blade lodging itself into the high back of his chair.. And then he moved, dragging her against his chest, and locking the door before slamming her against it.

"Chahti kya ho tum!?" (𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵!?)

A year's worth of frustration tipping over as he shook her by the arms.

"You've been playing with me ever since you had sense in that pretty head of yours.. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 are the one who toys with people to watch them break_ not Meher, not Ruk, 𝙮𝙤𝙪!.. And you have the guts to act all innocent, princess!?"

She watched to scream and yell, but whom would she yell at? Telling at him was like yelling at a reflection - useless and hypocritical.. And honestly, wasn't this what she wanted? Yes - not through the death of her family members, maybe, but she'd wanted this : him and her, together, on a level playing field.. How could she deny that?

So she did the next best thing, crushing her lips against his, her hands tangling in the jet black mane of his hair.. And it was electric, like lightning in water.

"Pyaar jatana nahi aata mujhe" (𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦..) She confessed, panting against his lips.

He shushed her, nipping at her bottom lip, his eyes so full of want that the black of his pupils are up the syormy green of his irises.

"Jataa toh chuki ho, now give me a chance."

She gasped as he lifted her by her thighs, sitting her down on his table, standing between her legs as he tipped her head backwards, attacking her neck like a starving dog. Her eyes snapped open at the sound of expensive clothing tearing at the seams.

"That's Hermès_"

"I'll buy you ten more.." He mumbled, dropping to his knees, making her feel like the queen of the world to have him like this in front of her.

Allauddin smacked the plush of her thigh as she tried to close her legs, growling.

"Open, you close in on my again and I walk out, understood?"

She nodded, legs sliding away from each other making her feel vulnerable yet so, Soo wanted.

He didn't waste time, slipping her underwear off and diving into the crux of her thighs, groaning at her sweetness like a wolf tasting blood, his strong hands grabbing her thighs, hooking them over his broad shoulders.

"Allauddin_!" She squeaked, hands clawing at the mahogany as he ate her out like she was an oasis in the desert.. His tongue was punishing, laving at her cunt in a lazy, unhurried pace, making her legs shake.

She threw her head back, her hips rolling against his face greedily, insides clenching around nothing at the burn of his beard against her soaked lips. Just as she was about to come, he pulled away, wiping his face, smirking.

"Not yet, bohot ghumaya hai mujhe, jaan.." (𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦)

She let out a pitiful whine, reaching up for him, but she didn't have to do much - he flipped her over, smacking her ass, his other hand squashing her cheek against the cold hardwood, making her giggle in anticipation.

"Look at you" He chuckled, taking his belt off. "Laughing while your head is in the tiger's mouth, my crazy princess.."

She pouted, looking at him over her shoulders, her voice demanding, whiny.

"Just fuck me already~!"

"As you wish, your highness.."

The moment he sank into her, heavy, hot and unmistakably 𝙝𝙞𝙢, her eyes flicked shut, a low moan leaving her lips.. The burn and stretch of his manhood sent delicious sparks up her spine, making her hips jolt. He held her down though, angling her hips slightly as he began pounding into her, fast, purposeful, like the sea meeting the shore during a storm, making her squeak with each thrust.

None of them really talked, no words were needed except his groans and growls, and her squeaky moans - their bodies moved in such beautiful syncopated manner as if they'd been carved from the same unbending stone..

When he spilt deep inside her, she shivered, her own climax rushing through her nerves, making each muscle ache with a full throb, for the first time in her materialistic life, Jahanara felt truly full..

That night, while she lounged in the bed, spent yet happy, he called his lawyers, ordering him to draft his divorce papers from his previous marriage, because the king had finally found his queen..

And the world better believe he was never letting her go..