Author's Note: Hi ya'll! This fic is really turning into something a lot longer than it was supposed to be but I am glad so many of you are enjoying it! Onto the next part, where these two are so cute you wanna cry and then they cross second base, hehehe. See you on the other side!

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Saad Faraz

Echo Valley High School

[One Month, Two Weeks Post Confession]

Saad was going to lose his lunch. There was no other way to put it. Murtasim and Meerab were nauseating. Absolutely, stomach-churningly nauseating. And Saad had a pretty high tolerance for mushy high school couples—he had seen his fair share—but this? This was a whole new level of sickeningly sweet.

Murtasim, who had once been a beacon of intimidation, the guy you'd never want to mess with, had somehow also transformed into this lovesick teddy bear. It wasn't that he was just a teddy bear, most of the boys in school were now so terrified of Murtasim that they practically scrambled in the opposite direction when they saw Meerab coming. It was like she had her own personal force field of fear, all courtesy of her smitten bodyguard-slash-boyfriend. But that meant that they all avoided Saad too when he was around Murtasim, which often left him just in company of the two smitten fools.

Saad's best friend had basically turned into a shadow—Meerab's shadow, to be exact. The guy was either following her around like a lost puppy or sitting somewhere, staring at her with those gooey, love-struck eyes that made Saad want to throw up in his mouth. And if she wasn't in sight, he was texting her or looking at the picture of the two of them that was now his lockscreen.

It was all so disgustingly cute.

But what really surprised Saad was Meerab. He had expected her to be, well, a little more mature about the whole thing. You know, less of a teenager. But no, she was right there with Murtasim, giggling and blushing like they were in some kind of teenage rom-com. If there were an award for the world's most nauseating couple, they'd win by a landslide.

As Saad watched, Meerab approached their table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She put a finger to her lips, silently telling him to shut up as she sneaked up behind Murtasim. Saad could already feel the bile rising in his throat.

Meerab leaned over her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around Murtasim's neck, her hands resting on his chest, her chin nestled on his shoulder, she whispered a soft, "Hi."

Saad nearly gagged.

And then it happened. Murtasim lit up like the Fourth of July, his face breaking into a grin so wide that Saad was surprised his cheeks didn't split open.

He turned his head a little, they kissed. Just a peck, but it was enough to make Saad want to throw up in his mouth.

"There are kids watching!" Saad blurted out, trying to inject some sanity into the situation. But, of course, his words fell on deaf ears. Murtasim was too busy basking in the glory of his girlfriend's affection, and Meerab was too busy squeezing him tight and mumbling about how much she missed him.

Meerab turned to Saad, her eyebrow arched in that way that said she was about to mess with him. "If you're feeling lonely, I can set you up on a date, Saad," she grinned as she slid into the seat next to Murtasim—so close that Saad was pretty sure he couldn't even slide a piece of paper between them.

But honestly? He couldn't even be mean to her. She was just too nice. How did that happen? Murtasim Khan ending up with someone so nice?

"With who?" Saad asked, trying his best to sound unimpressed.

"I know someone who has a crushhhh on you," Meerab sing-songed, her grin widening.

Murtasim snickered, shaking his head. "She must be blind."

"Shut up," Saad said, giving Murtasim a light whack on the arm.

But that was a mistake. Meerab's eyes narrowed, and she gave him a look that could melt steel. "Or maybe I won't set you up since you just whacked my boyfriend."

Saad scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You whack him all the time."

"That's different," they both said in unison, as if they were reading from the same script.

"Ugh, you're disgusting," Saad muttered, but he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. They were kind of cute, in a sickeningly sweet way.

Meerab grinned, her eyes lighting up as she reached for her backpack—the pink one that Murtasim usually carried around for her like a personal pack mule. "I made cookies!" she announced, beaming at Murtasim as she pulled out a Tupperware container.

Murtasim's face lit up again, and Saad was pretty sure that if he smiled any wider, his face might actually split in two. "You're the best," Murtasim said, opening the container and reaching for a cookie.

Saad, sensing an opportunity for free food, reached out to grab one too. But before he could even touch the edge of the container, Murtasim smacked his hand away, glaring at him. "My cookies!"

"Be nice!" Meerab chided, giving Murtasim a light whack on the arm.

Murtasim glared, but with a huff, he reluctantly held out the box, allowing Saad to take a cookie. "Taking my cookies..." Murtasim muttered under his breath, like a grumpy old man.

Saad bit into the cookie. It was a bit too soft, almost like it hadn't been cooked in the middle.

But Murtasim didn't seem to notice, he was devouring the cookies like they were the best thing on earth.

"How are they?" Meerab asked, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Murtasim grinned at her, his expression so full of love that Saad actually felt a little nauseous again. "Perfect."

Perfect? Saad had heard that love was blind, but apparently it was also tastebud-less.

Meerab giggled, her laughter light and infectious, and Murtasim grinned even wider.

Yep, Saad thought as he forced down another bite of the undercooked cookie. They were definitely nauseating. But as much as he hated to admit it, he was happy for his best friend. Even if it did make him want to gag every now and then.

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Murtasim Khan

Echo Valley High School

[One Month, Two Weeks Post Confession]

Murtasim couldn't take his eyes off her.

Meerab stood tall in front of Mr. Raza, looking fierce and determined as she argued his case.

And sexy. So, so sexy.

Today, she was wearing yoga pants that hugged her figure in all the right ways, paired with a matching sweater that looked like it was made specifically to test his self-control. He cursed Lululemon. It wasn't just that she was pretty—though she was, insanely so—but the way her clothes clung to her curves was enough to make him lose his mind.

She'd spent the entire day walking around, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd been staring at her ass more than was socially acceptable. How was he supposed to focus on anything else when she looked like that?

It took every ounce of willpower not to zone out completely as she spoke, her voice confident and clear. But, God, all he could think about was how those yoga pants made her legs look a mile long, and how that sweater clung to her curves in a way that had him biting his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

He had to remind himself not to openly gape at her in the middle of the classroom, but it was hard. With her hair flowing down her back, her eyes bright with passion, and her voice ringing out confidently, she was captivating. Murtasim felt like the luckiest guy in the world, sitting there and watching his girlfriend—his brilliant, beautiful girlfriend—fight for him.

"We both know that Murtasim knows all of this, Mr. Raza!" Meerab said, her voice loud and clear.

"And yet the test is in front of us," Mr. Raza replied, calm as ever, but Murtasim noticed the amused glint in his eyes.

"That's because he had a momentary lapse in judgment—maybe due to a soccer-induced concussion because I've seen him use his head to catch a soccer ball way too many times—and bombed the test on purpose," she fired back, her tone making it clear that she was not backing down.

Murtasim nearly choked trying to suppress a laugh. How was she so cute even when she was arguing with a teacher? She had whined endlessly a few days ago while playing with his hair, telling him to stop heading the soccer ball with the cutest little pout, and now she was bringing it up again.

Mr. Raza turned his gaze to Murtasim, his eyes narrowing slightly, still amused. "And why did you purposely bomb the test, Murtasim?"

Oh, here it was. He knew Mr. Raza knew the answer, but the man wanted him to say it out loud, just to make it that much more mortifying.

Murtasim cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Meerab before answering, "Meerab was running the tutoring sessions."

Mr. Raza's lips curled into a smile. "I see."

Murtasim could feel the heat creeping up his neck. He could only imagine what was running through Mr. Raza's mind—probably something along the lines of how ridiculous it was for a guy to intentionally tank a test just to spend more time with a girl. But, damn, was it worth it.

"Exactly," Meerab interjected, her voice full of conviction. "This is not a true reflection of his understanding of these concepts, and that is what a grade is supposed to reflect!"

Murtasim's heart swelled. Meerab was so smart. And not just book-smart—she had this quick, sharp way of thinking that made her, in his completely unbiased opinion, presidential material. He was only half-joking when he thought about her running the country one day, with him by her side as the First Gentleman, of course, basking in her glory.

Mr. Raza, however, remained unmoved. "I can't change his grade, Meerab."

"I'm not asking you to!" she shot back, her frustration evident. "I'm just saying you can change the weight of the tests and assignments around, weigh his next test at 40% rather than 20%. That makes up the 20% of this test!"

Murtasim blinked. Where did she come up with this stuff? She was pulling percentages and arguments out of thin air like a lawyer cross-examining a witness. If he wasn't so utterly smitten, he might have been scared.

"If I do that for him, I'd have to do it for everyone," Mr. Raza pointed out, but Murtasim could tell the teacher was impressed. He was giving her that look—half-respectful, half-incredulous—that teachers reserved for students who made valid points they couldn't easily refute.

Meerab, however, was undeterred. She stood up straight, her gaze sweeping the classroom. "I don't see anyone else asking."

And just like that, Murtasim was a goner.

She was so hot.

Meerab could be the ruler of the free world, and he'd happily follow her lead, carrying her backpack and making sure she had snacks for all her long meetings.

"Meerab..." Mr. Raza sighed, sounding both exasperated and amused.

"Mr. Raza," Meerab countered, her voice softer but still firm, "I refuse to let him screw up his chances of getting into a school he deserves to get into because of me—"

Murtasim cut in, not wanting her to feel guilty. "It's not because of you, it's my decision—"

She spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with that fierce determination he loved so much. "But you made the decision because of me and—"

"And it was worth it," he said, his voice low and steady, hoping she'd understand that he didn't regret a single thing.

She glared at him, mouthing "Shut the fuck up," with a look that could have frozen a volcano.

He shut up.

She turned back around.

"Mr. Raza, please, we both know he's capable," she pleaded, her voice carrying just the right mix of firmness and desperation. "You can't let him ruin his chances over one test."

Mr. Raza turned to him, a wry smile playing on his lips. Murtasim tried his best to look earnest, managing a sheepish smile. "Please, Mr. Raza," he added, though it felt like an afterthought in the grand scheme of things—Meerab had it covered.

Mr. Raza sighed, clearly wrestling with his thoughts, but Meerab wasn't done. She continued, her voice steady and convincing, "Mr. Raza, you know I wouldn't ask if I thought he didn't deserve it."

"He is your boyfriend," Mr. Raza pointed out, one eyebrow arched, his tone teasing.

"I'd ask even if there wasn't a conflict of interest," she shot back without missing a beat, her confidence unwavering.

Murtasim couldn't help but admire her even more. She was so composed, so sure of herself, and the way she stood her ground only made him fall for her harder. No one ever fought for him, for anything, but she did.

Mr. Raza smiled, clearly impressed. "You should consider being a lawyer, Meerab."

She shrugged nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. "That's the backup," she said easily.

Of course, Murtasim thought with an amused smile. His girlfriend was the type to have ambitious backups for her even more ambitious plans. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Mr. Raza laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "Of course."

"Sooo, does that mean we have a deal, Mr. Raza?" Meerab asked, her tone laced with sweet persuasion. Murtasim had to bite back a chuckle at how cute she was when she was trying to charm someone.

Mr. Raza sighed, looking between the two of them. "Don't let this one go," he said to Murtasim, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

Murtasim grinned widely, his chest swelling with pride. "I'm not planning to, sir."

"Mr. Raaaaaazaaaa," Meerab sang, drawing out his name in that playful, almost childlike way that made Murtasim's heart skip a beat. She was adorable, truly.

"Fine," Mr. Raza finally relented, unable to resist her charm any longer – he had put up a very good fight though. "I guess I could be nice to everyone since its application season and run everyone's grades both ways and give them the higher grade."

"You're the best!" Meerab grinned, her face lighting up as she bounced on her toes in excitement. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Murtasim nodded, echoing her gratitude. "Thanks, Mr. Raza."

And then, as if she hadn't already won the day, Meerab reached into her backpack and pulled out a box of Lindt dark chocolate. "Lindt dark chocolate, your favorite," she said, holding it out to Mr. Raza with a sweet, innocent smile.

Mr. Raza snickered, clearly amused. "Was this going to be a bribe?"

Meerab shook her head, all wide-eyed innocence. "Of course not. It says 'thank you' on the note!"

"And if I didn't agree?" Mr. Raza asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Then I'd sit in class and eat these in front of you," she grinned mischievously.

Murtasim nearly laughed out loud at that. She was so damn clever, always two steps ahead.

Mr. Raza sighed, clearly resigned to the fact that he'd lost this battle. "Go before I change my mind."

Murtasim couldn't help but stare at Meerab as she thanked Mr. Raza one last time, her voice sweet and triumphant, before she turned around and all but shoved him out of the classroom.

As they stepped into the hallway, she muttered under her breath, "You almost ruined my plan!"

"Sorry," he said, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he reached for her hand, his fingers lacing with hers. He loved holding her hand—small and warm, it fit perfectly in his.

He waited until they reached her locker, making sure the hallway was relatively empty before he gave into his urge to kiss her. In one swift movement, he spun her around and pressed her back against the cool metal, caging her in with his body. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening in surprise, but there was a spark of excitement in them that only fueled his desire. He dipped his head down, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that was both hungry and grateful.

Her lips were soft, pliant against his, and he kissed her like he was starved, like he couldn't get enough of her. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and addictive, and he found himself deepening the kiss, his tongue teasing her lower lip before slipping into her mouth. She responded eagerly, her hands flying to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer.

The way she responded to his touch, the way she melted into him—it was everything he'd ever wanted and more. He could feel her heartbeat thudding rapidly against his chest, syncing with his own as they lost themselves in the kiss. Every brush of her lips, every sigh that escaped her was driving him wild.

His hands slid to her waist, down over her perfect plump ass, squeezing it like he had wanted to all day as he pulled her even closer, while pressing her upper body firmly against the locker. Her body molded against his, fitting against him in ways that made his heart race and his thoughts blur into a haze of need. He couldn't stop kissing her, couldn't stop the surge of possessive desire that coursed through him.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips between kisses, his voice rough with emotion and longing. He needed her to know how much this meant to him—not just the grade, but everything.

She smiled against his mouth, pulling back just enough to speak, her hands still resting on his chest. "You're welcome, you idiot," she teased, her nose twitching in that adorable way she did when she was pretending to be mad at him.

He couldn't resist. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her nose, relishing the way she giggled softly, the sound like music to his ears. He loved her giggle—it was so innocent, so sweet, and yet it drove him crazy in the best way possible.

"Let's go," he said, his voice softer now, though the desire was still there, simmering beneath the surface. "I'll walk you home."

"And stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes filled with mischief as she bit down on her bottom lip. The sight made his heart stutter—she was just too damn cute.

"Your mom?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in question.

"She won't be home for at least another hour... we can powerwalk," she muttered.

He didn't need to be told twice. With a quick nod, he reached down, grabbed her backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. "Powerwalk it is," he said with a grin, but before he could say anything else, she grabbed his hand, and they were off, rushing out of the school like they were on fire.

Their laughter echoed through the empty halls as they practically sprinted toward the exit, their feet pounding against the tiles in unison. As they burst through the doors and into the crisp afternoon air, he couldn't help but glance over at her. The way her hair bounced with each step, the way her cheeks were flushed from their impromptu run, the way she was grinning up at him like they were on some grand adventure—it made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

They dashed down the sidewalk, hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. By the time they reached her house, both of them were out of breath, panting and giggling like they'd just pulled off the greatest escape.

"We made it," she said, her voice breathless but full of triumph as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Barely," he teased, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She stepped inside, and he followed, closing the door behind them. And as the door and then lock clicked shut, his hand found her waist, pulling her gently towards him.

"Meerab," he whispered, his voice low, filled with an unspoken need.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and soft, and before he could say anything else, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. It was a sweet kiss at first, their lips brushing together softly as they savored the moment.

But the sweetness didn't last long. The need that had been simmering between them all day began to boil over, and their kisses grew more intense, more urgent. Her hands slid up to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as she pulled him closer. His hands roamed her back, over the thin sweater that had driven him wild all day.

He could feel her heart racing just as fast as his, their breaths coming in short gasps between kisses. He backed her up against the wall by the door, his lips never leaving hers as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, a sound that sent a thrill straight through him, igniting every nerve in his body.

"My room," she breathed out between kisses, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with enough urgency to make him groan.

She didn't have to say it twice. He pulled away just enough to let her lead the way, his hands still holding her waist as they stumbled towards the hallway.

They didn't make it far before they were kissing again, pressing up against the walls, his hands slipping under her sweater and tank top to feel her skin. She was so warm, so soft, and the way she responded to his touch was driving him wild. She arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together in the narrow hallway.

They stumbled again, bumping into a picture frame on the wall, but neither of them cared. He couldn't stop kissing her, couldn't get enough of the way she felt against him, the way her lips moved with his, the way her body fit perfectly in his arms.

They finally reached her room, and she pushed the door open without breaking the kiss.

The moment the door to her bedroom clicked shut, he had her pressed against it, his mouth devouring hers. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as they stumbled backward, his legs hitting the edge of the bed. They tumbled onto the mattress together, bodies tangling, lips never parting.

The feel of her beneath him—soft, warm, pliant—was driving him insane. They'd kissed before, sure, but this...this was different. They'd never been in a bed together, never had the luxury of sprawling out like this, pressed up against each other. Murtasim could feel the heat of her body through their clothes, every curve pressing into him, and it was making him dizzy with want.

His hands slid under her clothes, fingers brushing over the bare skin of her stomach, and she gasped into his mouth.

Fuck, he loved that sound.

He couldn't get enough of it. His lips moved hungrily over hers, the kiss deepening, tongues clashing, teeth grazing. The room was filled with the wet, desperate sounds of their kissing, every smack of lips, every pant, every groan echoing in his ears.

Murtasim pulled back for a breath, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Her lips were swollen and red, her chest heaving, and he couldn't help but dive back in, capturing her mouth again in another searing kiss.

He really couldn't stop himself, couldn't get enough of the way she tasted, the way she felt beneath him.

His hands roamed higher under her sweatshirt and tank top, fingers tracing the lines of her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. She arched into his touch, but before she could get any further, she broke the kiss, panting heavily.

Her eyes were dark, filled with a need that mirrored his own, and she whispered breathlessly, "Take it off."

He froze for a moment, processing what she'd just said. Then, without another thought, he sat up, pulling her with him, their bodies shifting until they were kneeling on the bed, face to face.

She unzipped her sweater and threw it off.

His hands moved to the hem of her tank top, and he hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "You sure?"

Meerab nodded, her cheeks flushed. Murtasim didn't waste any more time. He tugged the tank top up, and she lifted her arms to help him, the fabric sliding up and over her head, leaving her in just her black bra. She was sitting there, bare before him, he felt like someone had just punched him in the gut.

Murtasim's mouth went dry.

Meerab sat there, her chest rising and falling rapidly, she was even more beautiful than he'd imagined. His eyes raked over her, taking in every inch of her, the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her breasts, barely contained by the thin straps of her bra. He couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the way her skin glowed in the sunlight.

"Fuck," he breathed, eyes raking over her body.

She was shy, though, her arms instinctively moving to cover herself, but he stopped her, gently grabbing her wrists. "Don't," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Don't hide yourself. I've been dreaming about this...about you...for so long."

Her blush deepened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she let him look, let him drink her in. Murtasim could see the way her chest rose and fell, the rapid beat of her heart visible in the pulse at her neck. He couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop the rush of heat that flooded his body at the sight of her. "You're fucking perfect," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

She bit her lip, eyes flicking over his body, and then she whispered, sounding slightly nervous. "Your turn."

Murtasim grinned, shaking off his own shirt in one smooth motion. He saw the way her eyes widened as she took in his chest, the muscles he'd worked so hard to build. She was biting her lip again, and it made him so fucking glad he spent all those hours in the gym. The look in her eyes made every drop of sweat worth it.

Without a word, she moved forward, pushing him back onto the mattress and crawled into his lap, her legs straddling his thighs as she pressed herself against him, her hands splayed across his chest. The feel of her, so close, her skin against his, made his head spin. His hands went to her waist, gripping her tightly as his mouth found her neck, kissing a trail down to her collarbone. He couldn't get enough of her, the taste of her skin, the way she trembled beneath his touch.

His hands returned to her body, rougher now, fingers tracing the line of her spine before sliding around to the front. He hesitated for a split second, then let his hands cup her breasts through the fabric of her bra. They were soft, warm, and fit perfectly in his palms. A low groan escaped his throat as he squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, feeling them harden beneath the thin fabric. "Fuck... Meerab..."

She let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch, and it drove him wild. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He heard her gasp, felt the shiver that ran through her body, and it only made him more determined. His lips trailed lower, across her collarbone, down to the tops of her breasts, leaving a wet trail of kisses in their wake.

He paused at the center of her chest, right between her breasts, and flicked his tongue against her skin before sucking hard, wanting to mark her, wanting her to remember this moment every time she looked in the mirror. She let out a small cry, fingers tangling in his hair, and that sound sent a jolt straight to his cock, which was already straining against his jeans.

Murtasim's hands were everywhere—gripping, squeezing, worshipping her body. He fumbled with her bra strap, cursing under his breath when it wouldn't unclasp. "How the fuck...?"

Meerab chuckled, the sound breathless, and reached behind her to help him out. "Like this," she murmured, her fingers working the clasp with ease.

And then it was gone, slipping off her shoulders, baring her to him completely. Murtasim's breath hitched, his eyes locked on her now-naked chest. He couldn't stop the curse that tumbled from his lips. "Holy fuck."

Her tits were perfect. So perfect. He loved them.

Murtasim had imagined what it would be like to touch Meerab's tits for a long time, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. The moment his hands landed on her breasts, he was mesmerized—completely fucking captivated. They were soft, fuller than he'd imagined, warm and pliant under his fingers, and he was blown away by how they seemed to fit perfectly in his palms.

His touch was hesitant at first, almost reverent, but the way she reacted, the way her body arched into him, practically begging for more, gave him the confidence to be bolder. He squeezed them gently, feeling the give of her flesh beneath his hands, the way her nipples hardened under his thumbs, and it was all so fucking intoxicating. Her nipples—fuck, he'd never felt anything like this. They were soft but firm, and when his thumbs brushed over them, she let out the sweetest, breathiest "Ahhh," her mouth falling open in pure pleasure. That sound shot straight to his cock, making it throb painfully against the fabric of his jeans.

He couldn't resist any longer. He leaned down, his mouth finding one of her nipples, and the moment his lips wrapped around it, he was lost. He sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardened nub, just like he'd seen in the video she had sent him. He could feel the way it stiffened against his tongue, could taste the saltiness of her skin, and it was the most addictive thing he'd ever experienced.

His other hand wasn't idle. While his mouth lavished attention on one breast, his other hand kneaded the other, squeezing and massaging, his fingers exploring every curve, every contour. He was fascinated by the way her tits felt, by the way they moved under his hands, by the way they responded to his touch. Every squeeze, every flick of his tongue, every brush of his thumb against her nipple made her gasp, made her moan, made her press herself even closer to him, and he couldn't get enough.

Meerab was squirming, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing her nipple just enough to make her cry out. The sound, the feel of her body reacting to him like this, made him groan against her skin, his cock throbbing with need.

"Fuck, Meerab..." he muttered, his voice muffled against her breast as he moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, the same care. He sucked and licked and teased, loving the way her body responded to him, loving the way her back arched, pushing her tits further into his hands and mouth, as if she couldn't get enough.

God, you're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against her skin, his voice muffled by her tits. He flicked his tongue again, earning another moan from her, and he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He was rather proud of himself, making her feel this good, making her sound like that.

Murtasim pushed her back gently, guiding her to lie down on the bed as he followed her down, his lips never leaving her skin. He was relentless, kissing and sucking on every inch of her exposed flesh, his hunger for her growing with each passing second. His lips brushed over her collarbone, leaving a wet trail as he moved lower, down her chest, across her ribs, each kiss more possessive than the last.

When he reached her stomach, he paused, his breath warm against her skin as he looked up at her, taking in the way her chest heaved, the way her eyes were half-lidded with desire. He pressed a soft kiss just below her navel, feeling the way her muscles tensed beneath his lips, and then he opened his mouth, sucking on the tender skin, drawing it into his mouth as he flicked his tongue against it.

She gasped, her back arching slightly off the bed as he sucked harder, pulling at her skin, marking her. He could feel her squirm beneath him, her hands clutching at the sheets as he continued his assault, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her moan, make her breath hitch in her throat. When he finally pulled back, he admired the mark he'd left—a dark, bruised hickey that stood out starkly against her smooth skin.

The sight of it made him immensely happy.

But he wasn't done. He wanted to leave her covered in marks, marks he wasn't allowed to leave on her neck. He moved lower, his lips trailing down her stomach, kissing a path across her soft skin, his hands gripping her hips as he sucked another hickey onto her side, just above her hipbone. She whimpered, her body trembling beneath him, and it only spurred him on.

Murtasim moved back up, taking his time, worshipping her with his hands and mouth until he was back at her breasts, sucking her nipple into his mouth again, biting down gently. He wanted to make her cum just from this, from his mouth on her tits, his hands groping her like he'd die if he didn't touch her.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he could feel the heat radiating off her, mixing with his own. His hand slipped down to her waist, squeezing, before sliding back up to cup her breast again. He was addicted to the feel of her, the way she fit perfectly in his hands, the way her skin tasted against his tongue.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his breathing heavy, eyes dark with desire. "Meerab..." he groaned, fingers pinching her nipples lightly, wanting to hear that sound again, that sweet little moan she made when he touched her just right.

Her breath hitched as his fingers pinched her nipples, and then she moaned his name, "Murtasim..." It was soft, needy. He loved hearing his name spill from her lips like that, dripping with desire. It made his cock throb painfully.

But then, she was pushing him, her hands on his shoulders, urging him to move. He blinked, confused for a split second, until he realized what she wanted. He let her roll them over, his body shifting beneath hers until she was straddling him, her thighs pressing against his hips. She was on top now, and fuck, did she look good like that—hair tousled, lips swollen, bare chest rising and falling rapidly.

Meerab leaned down, her mouth finding his in a slow, languid kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth, teasing him, tasting him. He groaned against her lips, his hands sliding up her sides, fingers digging into her hips, holding her against him as he kissed her back with a hunger that felt insatiable.

Her hair fell around them like a curtain, brushing against his chest, soft and tickling. The scent of lavender surrounded him, intoxicating and soothing all at once, and he felt like he was drowning in her—her taste, her scent, her touch. Every sense was filled with her, and he couldn't get enough.

She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down his jaw, his neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses as she moved lower, mimicking the path he'd taken on her body. Her hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, caressing, exploring. She was everywhere, her touch driving him wild, setting every nerve on fire.

When she paused, her teeth grazing his nipple, Murtasim inhaled sharply, his body tensing in anticipation. She bit down, gently, teasingly, and then pulled back, looking up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "Feel anything?" she asked, her voice low, a sultry undertone to her words.

He blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with her question. "Uh... no, not really." He didn't feel much there, but the sight of her, the way she was teasing him, was doing things to him that he couldn't put into words.

Meerab sighed dramatically, her breath warm against his skin, and Murtasim couldn't help but chuckle. She moved lower, her lips brushing over his abs, her tongue flicking out to trace the ridges, sending shivers down his spine. Her hands followed the path of her mouth, fingers trailing over his arms, his shoulders, his back, mapping every inch of him like she was committing it to memory.

Murtasim's breath came out in ragged pants, his body thrumming with need, every touch, every kiss driving him closer to the edge. When her mouth finally found his again, he couldn't hold back the moan that escaped him.

Her lips were soft, insistent, moving against his in a rhythm that was both tender and demanding. He kissed her back with everything he had, his hands gripping her ass as she rocked against him, grinding her body into his. She felt so good, so unbelievably good, and he couldn't help but wonder how much better it would be with nothing between them.

At first, her movements were slow, almost teasing, like she was testing the waters. But as the heat between them built to a fever pitch, she picked up the pace, rolling her hips harder against him. Her breath came in short, gasping moans that sent shivers down his spine, each one pushing him closer to the brink.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she sat up, straddling him —her head thrown back in pleasure, her hair cascading down her back, her chest heaving with every breath. Her boobs moved with every roll of her hips, bouncing, and the sight of her like this—completely lost in the moment, in him—was almost too much to bear.

He could feel the heat of her even through the layers of their clothes, the pressure of her grinding against his cock driving him absolutely fucking crazy.

She rocked back and forth, her movements growing more frantic, more desperate. Her hands were braced on his chest, her fingers digging into his skin as she rode him, the friction between them making his entire body ache with longing. He wanted more—needed more—wanted to feel her without anything between them, to touch her, taste her, explore every inch of her.

"Murtasim..." she moaned again, her voice a breathy whisper that sent a fresh wave of heat straight to his core. "Something is happening..."

Those words hit him like a freight train, sending a jolt of pure desire through him. The way she said it, the need in her voice, the way she was moving against him, it was all too much. His control, already hanging by a thread, snapped completely. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her even closer as he thrust up to meet her movements, matching her rhythm.

God, he was so close, so painfully close, and he could feel her trembling in his arms, feel the way her body tensed as she neared her own release. The thought of her coming apart on top of him, of feeling her lose control while she rode him, nearly pushed him over the edge.

"Meerab..." he gasped, his voice rough with need. "Fuck... you feel so good..."

She moaned in response, her hips moving faster, grinding down harder against him. He could see the flush spreading across her cheeks, her lips parted as she panted for breath, her eyes glazed with pleasure. The sight of her like this, the feel of her moving against him, was more than he could handle.

As her moans grew louder, reaching a sharp cry of pleasure, Murtasim's mind blanked, overtaken by the intensity of the moment. He couldn't hold back anymore. His hips jerked up against her involuntarily, and with a strangled groan, he came in his pants. The release hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over him with an overwhelming force that left him shaking.

But as much as he was caught up in his own release, his attention was riveted on her. The way Meerab looked in that moment, mid-orgasm, was unlike anything he had ever imagined—and he had imagined it a lot. Her face was flushed, her lips parted in a perfect 'O,' her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure coursed through her. Her whole body trembled, her back arched, and her breasts jutted out, moving with the rhythm of her orgasm. Her hands gripped his shoulders for support, her nails digging into his skin.

She looked like a goddess, like something out of his wildest fantasies—but so much hotter. Her head was thrown back, her hair tumbling in wild waves down her back, her cheeks glowing with exertion. The sight of her completely lost in her own ecstasy, the way her hips kept moving against him even as she reached her peak, was more erotic than anything he'd ever conjured up in his mind.

And he had thought about it—a lot. But nothing compared to the real thing. The way her body trembled, the way her moans filled the air, the way her entire being seemed to light up with pleasure—it was all so much more than he had ever imagined. The sight of her coming undone, the knowledge that he had been the one to make her feel this way, sent another surge of heat through him even as his body struggled to recover.

As his own orgasm washed over him, leaving him trembling beneath her, she slumped onto him, their chests touching, he could feel her breath against his neck, hot and ragged. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, her body still rocking against his, prolonging the sensation. The realization of what had just happened hit him like a brick, and he couldn't help the breathless laugh that bubbled up from his chest.

"Fuck... Meerab...," he panted, his voice shaky and filled with awe. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of lavender, his hands still gripping her hips, holding her close.

Nothing in his fantasies had prepared him for this—nothing could have.

Murtasim felt like he was on top of the world, his heart still racing as he held Meerab close, both of them trying to catch their breath. Suddenly, she giggled, the sound light and infectious, and it made him chuckle along with her.

"That was fun," she said with a breathy laugh, pulling back just a little to look at him. Her face was glowing, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and it made his heart swell even more.

"Fun?" He echoed, his voice full of warmth and adoration.

She nodded.

He couldn't help but cup her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her again. It was a slow, tender kiss, filled with everything he felt for her, and when he pulled back, he trailed his fingers lightly across her chin, committing every detail of this moment to memory.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

She grinned, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she murmured, "Thank you."

He could see the amusement dancing in her eyes, which only made his heart beat faster. There was something so endearing about the way she looked at him, like he was the only person in the world.

But then, because he couldn't help himself, he added, "I think about you naked a whole lot, and I was not even close to how sexy you are." His voice was husky, full of honest admiration and desire.

Meerab giggled again, her laugh sending a thrill straight through him. She looked at him with playful curiosity and asked, "What'd you do when thinking about me naked?"

A deep groan escaped him, his mind instantly flooded with the memories of all those nights he'd spent imagining her, with his hand around his cock, and now finally having her like this. He didn't have to answer for her to know what he meant, but before he could think of a reply, she was already climbing off him, her giggles turning into full-on laughter.

"You should go clean up," she teased, patting his face gently. "My mom is gonna be home soon. We need to be doing homework in the kitchen like good little children."

Murtasim couldn't help but laugh again, louder this time, as he reached out and pulled her close, kissing her deeply, savoring the feel of her against him. The thought of them being "good little children" was almost comical after what had just happened.

"Good little children?" he teased back, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "So not teenagers who just dry-humped in your bed?"

She shook her head with a grin, her fingers playfully running through his hair. "If you wanna do that again, she shouldn't even suspect it, mister!" she scolded lightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes with a playful grin. "I'm not that good of an actor," he admitted, still holding her close, reluctant to let her go.

"You better learn," she shot back with a smirk, before pressing a quick kiss to his lips and hopping off the bed.

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Author's Note: Tadaaaaaa! So what do we think of this chapter? Third base soon, hehehe.