#no dad

Family trip, yeyyy...

Actually, at first, you were so happy when your father told you that your family and some other friends were going on a trip. You were so excited because of that little thought of yours..the thought that it will be easier to spend time with Islam now and maybe get some good sex also, at night, somewhere, wherever he wants. But that thought disappeared as quickly as it appeared because of your father's next sentence: "Oh and Islam will be there too with Maryam so it will be nice.." something something..You stopped listening after that name left your father's mouth..Excuse me? His wife?

Of course, it was minimum effort of understanding that for a FAMILY trip, his FAMILY will come, but you were too busy being fucked by him that sometimes you forget that.So what now?

You went upstairs in a heartbeat and called him, just to make sure.

"Milaya."

"Open your camera, please?"

Of course he does, but only because he is alone.He was fixing his phone on the stand as he gets ready to drive off. He was in his Rover, his face was slightly tensed, like some serious shit had happend before you've called him.

"Where are you going?"

"Why you call?"

You roll your eyes and scoff. His eyes move off the road for some seconds, just to give you a look. Don't

"Is she really coming?"

"Coming where?"

Obviously he knew who you were referring to.

"To the trip Islam"

"What you expected?"

Oh..yeah. He's mean about it too. Your brows easily touch each other in a frown and you close your eyes.

"I'm driving, we talk tomorrow" , and he ends the call..JUST.LIKE.THAT.

Is he not affected by all this shit? He will just be happy and all smiles while you die in a corner everytime they share a kiss? Many thought like this one occupied your mind, but somehow, one got stronger, bigger, more powerful. How about..making him the one who feels the pain?The one who curses the day you two shared that sinful kiss in his bedroom.

And while your thoughts were clouded by ideas of how to get Islam's attention, the day of the trip finally came.You were wearing some shorts your mother always yelled at you to throw away because they are soo short, you look like a slut..But how could you? That was Islam's gift, and they were expensive too..You had no decency, your mother would yell over and over, but once, when you were giving Islam head, you've put your skirt under your legs so that's 0:1 for decency against your mother.

The ride was boring, you just wanted to smoke really. All politics and things old people talk about. Upon arriving at the location, you finally stretch and see the realy amazing, exciting, absolutely stunning view of Maryam's hand being kissed by Islam..what an interesting start.

Now that you think about it, Islam is always affectionate to his wife but also bearly touching her, like she could break(maybe one day her neck, you also think)..Maybe that's why people were soo not interested when Islam would put you in chokeholds, play with your hair or when he throws you over his shoulder..because he was completly different with his wife, so such actions from him, for others, felt like nothing, just a casual play.

Your name is called by one of your cousins, dinner is ready. Looks like you took your dear time thinking all of this, take it easy, your brain might just turn off.

At the dinner table, everyone was talking. You find your way and sit crossed legs right next to Islam.He doesn't look at you, not even for half a second, but he acknowledged you right away. The smell of vanilla filling his nostrils as he closes his eyes for a moment, his head dizzy. Not long after, his large watch hit your shoe slowly, but quickly he readjust it and he places his hand on your ankle, fingers playing with the bracelet he bought a couple weeks ago. All of that while he was smiling soo sweetly at his little wife. You scoff, and move your leg, his hand falling slowly. That earned a look from you aunt.

"Oh, come one y/n..Can't you be more spoiled than that? Some greens won't kill you, you know?"

Great, everything you needed. You roll your eyes and continue playing with the fork in your plate.

"Look, such attitude for your age."

"Could you stop? No one cares."

Someone tape her mouth shut cuz you're about to make a crime.

"Y/n, watch your mouth" your father says. Oh, like he now is really intrested about your behaviour or something.

"You should use that intelligence you have, don't waste it on boys"

Yep, last straw. You would have lasted longer, but the previous, funny words, came from no other than Islam's wife..Waste it on boys? Oh, if she knew.. You throw your fork on the table and stand up, the chair making that irritating scratching sound and you went upstairs to the room you were given.

"I apologize on my daughters behalf.."

"Islam, could you go after her..Maybe get her downstairs? You seem to be the only one she listens to."

Upstairs, you were leaning against the railing, trying to accommodate the feeling of the smoke drowning your lungs. A feeling you're yet not so used to. Fuck with that woman's bullshit. Who does she think she is? Who gave her permission to even look towards you? She should know her place.

Your cigarette is thrown over the balcony and you were turned so that your back hit the cold railing. One hand to your neck, not enough to take your breath, but just to induce dominance. You finally look up and the feeling of your knees melting came right away.

"What the attitude about?"

"Islam.."

"What?"

You look at him, deep in his eyes, soo deep you might cry. He was soo handsome. You were in more than one way, you felt more than one thing and everything is a mess. How could one person make you act soo irresponsible and agitated?You can't even think once around him.You get on your tiptoes, leaning to kiss him. And just before you got what you wanted, he stops.

"You think you deserve?"

No, you don't. You don't deserve anything from him. He gives you many things, but more emotionally than in materials..and that's a problem. He spoils you, everything you mentioned briefly once, is now yours after a couple of days, so emotions weighting more than those gifts.. is terrible. He never gave you training wheels..So how could you be able to learn? He never gave you his time, and it's stupid and cheesy, but you could use one hand on the saddle.

All you could do now is shut up. Your brain is not functioning and you're starting to lack air that you even seems to notice a faint softening in his eyes. So you lean back and hug him. Musk and cardamom fill your nostrils and suddenly, the hand that was on your neck was now gently rubbing your back.

"I told stop smoking"

He did, many times, but that's your escape of reality when he's not with you. Is a bad habit you got from that group he literally hates. After work, you always need to smoke, but he knows you soo good that he now comes everytime to pick you up when your shift ends, just to make sure you don't smoke. Maybe after all, he loves you. But that's a thought you keep locked away, deep inside your mind and hid in one of your four rooms.

He picks you up and walks towards the bedroom, closing the sliding door of the balcony, slowly, behind him.

"Моя милая маленькая девочка.."

Yes..you are his sweet little girl, you will always be, don't even try to worry you little head with that.He lays you on the bed, and he kisses you, his tongue sliding over yours, hands tangling in your hair. He takes a moment to look at you, and you let yourself belive that he might confess, finally.

"I love you"

It's just that..those were your words, not his.

He kissed you after that, maybe that was his way of answering? You will never know. The thing is..you comfort yourself with the thought that, this time, is one of those times when he lets you feel like being loved. One of the few times he's not the cold, mean man he always is. One of the times where he makes love to you.

He kisses your neck.Wet, cold lips over your body, and that's it, you forget everything. Nothing matters anymore. It's just you and him...and how you love it. He stands to his knees to take the tee off you and easily open your bra with one hand.

"You very beautiful. Always, everytime."

His hand works it's way down your body, sliding under the waistband of the shirts, right into your thong. He plays with your clit as your hips meet him half way, eager to release, hungry for his hand. "I am sorry.."

And you wanna mark it, really. But your soul already tattooed it somewhere. Your mind si all about his voice and those words you might never hear form him again. But he said it, so that's enough for you. You don't really know why he is apologizing..but you forgive him anyway, for any and everything..even tho, you did exactly that long time ago.

Just as you moan against his mouth, he slides your shorts down your legs and your hands are fast to fumble with his jeans. When he is finally free, you gave his length a few pumps, feeling how his veins are becoming fuller.

"Please Islam.."

And you think you have to beg for it tonight..he was too nice.

"I want it..I want y-.."

Your quick to be shut by his fingers on your lips. You take it into your mouth, licking it and closing your eyes.

He slides inside you and you feel like the world is collapsing..The feeling of him will never change. The eagerness of you is out of this (collapsing) world. You tap his shoulder slightly and he takes his hoodie off right over his head and being thrown somewhere in the room. Your fingers find his shoulders and dig deep in them, making Islam let out a deep groan you're always happy to hear. He fucks you soo deeply nice that you might think this will be your medicine. This is the only think making you forget things, your dose of dophamine.

He slides out and turns you around, pushing your head in the pillows while your pretty wetness is right in his face. He gives it a freshly lick, cold air from the room messing with his warm one agains your folds. And you clench around nothing like the little slut you are. He gets back inside, this time going back to his normal speed, making you grip the sheets and bite your hand so no one hears you. It's his turn to dig his fingers, but he does that with your waist and you feel your eyes go behind.He finds your hair and he grips it, tugging at it slow, just for you to feel a little sting, feeling his dominance like he is not just destroying your insides right now.

"Turn around, I want see you"

He says raspy, and that's what you do. He leans down and bites your lower lip, and you come. He covers your mouth but his face remains close to yours as his forehead is right agains his. Not long after, you feel him tremble and suddenly he pulls out and comes right on your stomach. At least you have a chance at that plan B.

He goes downstairs, all clean, like he didn't just gave you the most toe curling orgasm and he goes to find your father.

"She fine, I talk with her. She was just feeling bad, she say sorry."

"Oh, thank you Islam..I knew you would talk her out of that attitude"

"You make her act right" his wife smiles as she says it, her hands hugging his waist.