A/N: For part four (of eight) of our epilogue - we check in on an almost two-year-old Meesam and her parents. Just a heads up that this chapter has smut. See you on the other side!

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In the quiet of the closet surrounded by half-packed suitcases, Meerab's heart clenched at the sight of her nearly two-year-old daughter, Meesam, nestled among the clothes, her tiny sobs echoing softly.

"I go!" Meesam's voice rang out, filled with a mixture of protest and sadness as she sat stubbornly in the suitcase.

"Aw, Mee-Mee," Meerab cooed gently, her voice a soothing balm as she lifted her daughter into her arms, holding her close. "Tell Mama what's making you sad," she whispered into her soft hair, feeling the tiny arms clinging tighter around her neck.

"I mi wu," Meesam mumbled into her shoulder.

"Ammi will miss Mee-Mee too," Meerab replied while she rubbed Meesam's back in slow circles, comforting her.

Meesam pulled back slightly, her big eyes watery and her bottom lip quivering adorably. "I go?"

"It's an Ammi and Abbu trip, we're only going for three big sleeps," Meerab explained gently, using her thumb to wipe the tears from her daughter's cheeks.

"I fun," Meesam protested weakly.

Meerab couldn't help but laugh softly and kiss her little nose. "You are fun, but ammi and abbu are going on a grown-up boring trip. There are no toys, no other kids, no playgrounds."

Meesam's pout deepened, making Meerab's heart twist at the sight.

"You're going to have so much fun with Nanu and Nani, and Uncle Shahmeer is going to bring baby Zee to play with you," Meerab added, brightening her tone to distract her daughter with the promise of fun activities, especially an appearance by baby Zubaida who Meesam loved.

"Zee?" Meesam perked up, tilting her head curiously.

Meerab nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, and Maryam Phupho is going to visit with Uncle Zaki, and Rumi Maasi is going to spend the night. You two get to paint your nails and do your hair!"

Meesam's eyes lit up at the mention of these familiar pleasures. "WED!" she exclaimed with newfound excitement.

"Yes, you can paint your nails red," Meerab confirmed, her heart lighter as she watched a smile break across Meesam's tear-streaked face.

"Ammi tway?" Meesam tried again.

"Ammi has to go with Abbu," Meerab explained gently.

"Abbu tway?" Meesam's voice rose slightly.

Meerab shook her head, her heart tugging at the sight of her daughter's hopeful eyes. "But ammi and abbu will call you every day, and we'll be back in just three big sleeps with toys for you." 

At the mention of toys, Meesam's eyes lit up, her interest piqued.

"And if you go with us, Mee-Mee-Bak and Uncle Areeb will be sad," Meerab added, referencing Meesam's pet goat. Meesam had affectionately named Murtasimbakri's youngest kid from her second litter Meesambakri, which she couldn't say and had adorably shortened to Mee-Mee-Bak.

"We don't want that right?" Meerab prompted.

Meesam shook her head, her understanding dawning slowly.

"So, can you be brave for Ammi, Mee-Mee?" Meerab asked, her voice soft but encouraging.

"I bwave!" Meesam declared proudly, patting her tiny chest with determination.

"Of course, Mee-Mee is the bravest!" Meerab praised, leaning down to kiss her daughter's chubby cheek warmly. "I love you, Mee-Mee."

"I wove wu," Meesam responded, mimicking her mother's affection with a tiny kiss on her cheek.

Satisfied, Meerab gently put her down and turned towards the closet door. "You can come in now," she called softly.

Murtasim, who had been waiting anxiously outside, peeked in. Meerab had made him leave, knowing well his inability to deny Meesam anything, especially when her tears were involved.

"She agreed?" he asked hopefully as he entered.

Meerab nodded, her smile spreading across her face at the relief in Murtasim's expression.

A broad grin took over Murtasim's face as he scooped Meesam into his arms, lifting her high into the air, and gently throwing her up a bit.

Meesam's gleeful squeals filled the room as he caught her and kissed her cheek tenderly. "Ba-Ba pway Mee-Mee aw day?" she asked, patting his face with her small hands.

"Of course, we can play all day!" Murtasim assured her, his voice filled with warmth as he nuzzled her cheek, causing another round of delighted squeals.

"Mee-Mee bwave!" Meesam proclaimed proudly, absorbing the reassurance and love from her parents.

"Of course, meri Mee-Mee bahut kya hai?" Murtasim prompted.

"Immatwawi!" Meesam responded brightly.

"That's right, himmatwali, just like?" Murtasim prompted, encouraging her.

"Ammi!" Meesam squealed joyfully.

"Exactly! Now give Ba-Ba a kiss," Murtasim said, tilting his cheek towards her.

Meerab couldn't help but laugh as Meesam planted a loud, smacking kiss on Murtasim's cheek, the sound echoing her joyous energy.

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In the soft light filtering through the sheer curtains of their private villa in Skardu, Meerab's breath hitched as Murtasim expertly shifted her, draping her legs over his shoulders. His fingers danced across her, exploring with a precision that drew a sharp groan from her lips.

"Murtasim," she gasped, the sound more of a plea than a call, as his tongue made a long, deliberate swipe up her slit. The sensation was electric, shooting through her with an intensity that buckled her knees, metaphorically, since he already had her spread and open, completely at his mercy.

Their night had been long, a mesh of skin and sighs, and waking up to his kisses trailing down her body had only reignited the heat that had briefly simmered down. "Mhmmm, so good," he hummed against her, his breath hot and his voice vibrating against her most sensitive spots, sending quivers cascading down her spine.

His tongue parted her further, exploring her deeply, while his nose rubbed just right against her clit. Each movement was a calculated tease. Her response was a deep, guttural groan, her hips canting towards him, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure only he could provide.

A loud moan escaped her as he hummed, the vibration more intense due to his closed mouth against her. The sound of his chuckle—deep and knowing—sent another wave of desire through her. Propelled by the intensity of her sensations, Meerab propped herself up on her elbows, desperate to see him.

The sight that greeted her only fueled her arousal further; Murtasim was staring up at her, an unapologetically smug grin playing on his lips, his eyes bright with the satisfaction of her reactions. He withdrew slightly, the cool air hitting her heated skin, making her shiver, but then he dove back in. His tongue resumed its exploration, swiping up her slit with a slow deliberateness that had her biting her lip to stifle screams.

By now, Murtasim knew exactly how to drive her wild.

He alternated between long, languid licks and focused attention on her clit, circling first clockwise, then anti-clockwise, each movement meticulously calculated to draw out the most intense reactions from her.

As Meerab's head hit the pillow again, her fingers instinctively clenched the pristine white sheets beneath her. The sensations surged as Murtasim's mouth enveloped her clit, the light suction sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. This feeling, one she adored since the first time he tried it, engulfed her in waves of delight.

He hummed against her, the vibrations enhancing the pleasure.

"Murtasim," she moaned, his name escaping her lips as a plea and praise mingled into one.

His fingers, skilled and knowing, joined the dance; his middle and ring fingers slid inside her effortlessly, moving with a rhythm that spoke of familiarity and intent.

As his fingers found their target, bending expertly to stroke that one spot inside her that drove her mad, a flash of gratitude toward the unknown author of the article that had educated him crossed her mind. She remembered their first experiment with this, how she had screamed so much that her throat had felt sore later, both of them clueless yet eager.

The combined assault of his fingers and tongue, the calculated pressure and relentless pace, quickly dismantled her composure. Her body trembled, a rush of orgasm sweeping through her, her back arching off the bed, leaving her shaking and utterly spent. She lay back, pliant and sated, her chest heaving with each deep breath as the waves of her climax ebbed away.

When she managed to pry her eyes open, Murtasim was standing at the foot of the bed, observing her with that self-satisfied grin that both irked and endeared him to her. "Good morning, meri jaan," he said, his voice laced with a victorious cheer that made her roll her eyes.

As much as she wanted to return the favour, she loved to tease him when she felt he was too satisfied with himself, to keep it interesting...and also because it worked out very well for her when she eventually gave in.

Stretching languidly, she threw her arms up, arching her back and pushing her chest forward, her skin still flushed from their earlier activities. Her body was bare, unshielded in the soft glow of the morning, his eyes obviously appreciative.

"I am hungry. Let's go eat," she declared with a casual nonchalance, bending over to retrieve the silk nightgown that had ended up discarded on the floor the night before.

Slipping the fabric over her head, she suppressed a smile, knowing full well the effect her actions had on him.

"What?" she feigned innocence as she turned to see Murtasim staring at her, his expression one of amused shock mixed with undisguised desire.

"I am a different kind of hungry," he confessed, his gaze intensely tracing the contours of her body, making his intentions crystal clear. "What do you think is more important?" His voice dipped into that lower register that usually spelled trouble—and pleasure.

"My hunger for food, to be honest with you—" she began, only to be swiftly interrupted.

"Incorrect, the right answer was my hunger—" he tried to assert, but she was quick with her comeback.

"The right answer is always feed your wife before she gets hangry," she shot back, her words playful yet firm, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed his growing exasperation.

Closing the distance between them, Meerab placed her hands on his bare chest, using him for balance as she rose onto her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Her smile was mischievous and loving all at once as she then skipped out of the room.

He followed after her with a resigned sigh, muttering something under his breath about impossible, adorable wives.

As Meerab stood in front of the refrigerator, contemplating the contents, she called out to Murtasim, "Omelette?" His sigh was audible, but he nodded, his expression slightly forlorn.

She watched, leaning against the kitchen island, as he gathered the ingredients, his skill at making an omelette having surpassed hers during the months she nursed Meesam. The sight of him cooking without a shirt, his pajama pants hanging casually from his hips, was distractingly attractive. Each movement displayed the flex and flow of muscles across his back and shoulders, the simple act of chopping spinach becoming an unintended flexing show that Meerab found immensely appealing.

Her gaze roamed over the marks on his body, each one a memory etched into his skin. The red mark on his right shoulder, shaped distinctly by her teeth, brought back a vivid flashback of being pressed deeply into the mattress, her grip tight on the metal headboard, biting him to muffle her screams of ecstasy.

His neck bore similar red marks, mirrored no doubt on her own skin. Her eyes traced the contours of his chest, unmarked save for the memories of her kisses, licks, and bites. Her mind replayed the trail her lips had followed, past the faint line of hair leading down to his pronounced hipbones and further still to -

"Stop looking at me like that," he chastised as he skillfully flipped the omelette, his gaze catching hers, piercing.

"Like what?" Meerab feigned innocence, even as her lips tugged into a mischievous smile, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a tease.

She swung her legs up gracefully to perch on the counter, the cool marble surface contrasting sharply against her warm skin.

He shot her a look of exasperated affection, the kind that tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes—a look she found irresistibly charming.

Shrugging nonchalantly, she reached for an apple from the fruit bowl beside her and took a crisp bite. The sweet, juicy crunch seemed to echo in the kitchen, and she deliberately licked her lips, knowing full well the effect it would have on him.

A groan escaped him, and he muttered, "You said you were hungry."

"I know...that's why I am eating an apple," she responded with a tone laced with obviousness, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He sighed, a sound mixed with frustration and fondness as he turned back to the stove, mumbling words like "tease" and "seduce" under his breath.

Meerab watched him intently, waiting for the perfect moment as he finished preparing the second omelette. She then reached out, her fingers tracing the prominent veins that ran down his arm from the back of his hand to his elbow. Her touch was light, yet charged with electricity.

He groaned again, his reaction immediate.

He swiftly turned off the stove and moved to her, his hands finding her waist with an assured grip. He lifted her slightly, moving her, ensuring she was away from any heat or danger from the stove.

As he positioned her safely on the counter, Meerab wrapped her legs around his thighs, drawing him even closer. The space between them vanished, filled with the warmth of his body pressing into hers.

"Stop teasing me," he admonished softly, his hands moving to push a stray lock of hair behind her shoulder. "You said you were hungry."

"I decided that your type of hunger may be a bit more important," Meerab muttered as she slid her hands down his toned chest to the waistband of his pajamas. With a daring flick of her wrist, she slipped her hand inside, grasping his already hard cock, eliciting a deep groan from him.

Murtasim lowered his head, capturing her lips with his, nipping at her lower lip gently, tugging at it with a mixture of affection and urgency. Meerab's fingers tightened around him, stroking up and down in rhythm to their breathing, delighting in the way his groans vibrated through their kiss.

His hands weren't idle either; they roamed up to her breasts, cupping them through the thin fabric of her nightgown. His fingers circled her nipples, teasing the sensitive peaks through the material, firm enough to drive her wild but gentle enough to tease her further into arousal.

Suddenly, Murtasim broke their intense kiss, stepping back just enough to force her legs to unlock from around his waist. Meerab's pout at his cock slipping out of her hand was met with his chuckle—a sound that vibrated with a promise of more—as he quickly shed his pajamas, letting them fall to the floor.

He closed the gap between them once more, his head bending to capture a nipple through her nightgown. The sudden wet heat made Meerab gasp, her back arching, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. His hands then roamed higher, gathering the silk of her gown and pushing it up over her thighs, exposing more of her to his touch.

As he kissed his way up to her neck, his teeth found the tender juncture between her neck and shoulder, biting down gently. The mix of pain and pleasure made Meerab groan his name, her hands flying up to his hair, pulling his face back to hers.

She kissed him fiercely, her tongue dueling with his, as her legs wrapped tightly around him once again. Her heels dug into his buttocks, pulling him even closer, eliminating any space between them.

As Murtasim's hips met hers, Meerab's hands glided up his bare back, fingers entwining in his hair while their tongues danced. His touch, a searing trail of desire, roamed from her knees up her thighs, igniting a path that converged at her torso. He drew her closer, the edge of the counter barely supporting her now, their bodies melding into one heated urgency.

The atmosphere thickened with the sound of their mutual moan when he teased her entrance, his tip slick with her readiness. Without hesitation, he entered her smoothly, fully, making her gasp at the sudden fullness. Murtasim's face nestled into the crook of her shoulder, his forehead pressed against her as he began a rhythmic thrusting that drove her wild.

Meerab's response was primal, her legs wrapping tighter around him, urging him deeper with every thrust. Her face was buried in the nape of his neck, where she breathed in his scent mixed with the faintest hint of sweat. Her nails trailed down his back, marking him in her heat and passion as he moved within her, each stroke deeper and harder than the last.

His hands, restless and roaming, explored her body like a map. They brushed across her shoulders, skimmed over her chest, then down to her calves, each touch fleeting but intense. Finally, his hands found her thighs, grasping firmly, fingers pressing into her flesh as he anchored himself.

The force of his thrusts intensified, his grip tightening, driving into her with a passion that matched the wild beat of their hearts. Meerab's movements synced perfectly with Murtasim's, her hips rising to meet each of his thrusts with an urgent desperation. The kitchen echoed with the sounds of their pleasure—loud moans and softer sighs punctuated by the smacking of lips as they kissed, tongues and hands exploring.

Murtasim's forehead rested against hers, his eyes locked with hers in a wild, unspoken conversation as his rhythm grew more erratic. Every push brought their lips together in a desperate kiss, breaking only for gasping breaths. Meerab whimpered under the increasing force of his movements, each one sending waves of pleasure that mirrored the intensity in his glazed eyes. His gaze, filled with raw desire, fueled the fire that coursed through her veins.

She felt him falter slightly as his pace quickened, his moans growing louder. "Harder," she found herself moaning, lost in the crescendo of their actions.

"Lean back," he rasped, his voice rough with lust.

Meerab obeyed, her back arching against the cool marble of the kitchen counter, the thin fabric of her nightgown offering scant protection from the cold surface. He adjusted her quickly, pulling her to the edge of the counter and lifting her legs over his shoulders, granting him deeper access.

His hands anchored her to the spot, gripping the sides of her stomach sides firmly.

He paused, his gaze raking over her exposed and vulnerable form with undisguised hunger.

Then he resumed, his thrusts gaining a new, ferocious intensity. Meerab's hands flailed for purchase on the smooth counter, her body sliding slightly under the force of his movements. His pace was relentless, the sound of his grunts and groans mixing with the rhythmic creaking of their movements filling the room.

The sensation of being completely at his mercy, combined with the rough texture of his hands and the unyielding marble beneath her, was overwhelming. Her body writhed in pleasure, each thrust pushing her closer to the edge as she reveled in the deep, guttural sounds escaping him.

She attempted to lift her head to watch Murtasim. His figure was striking—head thrown back, jaw clenched in concentration, muscles taut. The sight of him so overwhelmed with passion sent a surge through her body, intensifying her own arousal. Her legs were draped over his shoulders, a position that offered a tantalizing glimpse of his powerful form, igniting her senses further.

With a sudden grasp, Murtasim adjusted her hips, pulling her toward him sharply. This shift changed the angle dramatically, eliciting a loud scream from Meerab as the new position hit a deeply sensitive spot. The sensation caused her entire back to arch off the cold marble counter, triggering an intense orgasm that raced through her with unstoppable force. She could feel every muscle in her legs and abdomen tensing and then releasing in a rush of overwhelming pleasure.

As her body continued to tremble, Murtasim maintained his rhythm, driving into her with a fierce intensity. His groans filled the kitchen, echoing her climactic cries until he finally reached his own peak. As he called out her name, his voice was thick with satisfaction, he filled her with his release.

Exhausted and still reeling from the intensity, Meerab lay sprawled on the counter. Murtasim gently lowered her legs, his movements tender as he leaned over her, his hands braced on either side of her, his cock still buried inside her. His deep, concerned gaze met hers, checking in with a soft, "You okay?"

Meerab managed a languid nod, her voice barely above a whisper, "Mhmmm." She was still catching her breath, her body awash with a pleasant tingling sensation. "Let me catch my breath and then we can eat," she added, her words slow as she floated back down from the euphoric high of their lovemaking.

As Murtasim pulled out of her, Meerab groaned from the sudden absence of him.

She felt his release trickling down, the warm sensation evoking a shiver along her spine.

Then, his fingers returned, pressing insistently at her opening, pushing everything back inside.

The deliberate motion made her gasp, the sensation intense and overwhelming as he meticulously ensured nothing escaped.

This bold move sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, making her moan.

Murtasim looked at her, grinning, "to increase the chances." He grinned.

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As they settled out on the patio after eating breakfast, Meerab appreciated the serene beauty of the mountainous backdrop. The sun was bright but not overwhelming, and the crisp mountain air made the day exceptionally pleasant.

"We should just move here," Meerab murmured contentedly as they lounged together on the chaise. She rested comfortably in Murtasim's lap, encircled by his arms, both enjoying the stunning view of distant snow-capped peaks. The warmth of the sun was tempered by a gentle breeze, making the moment near perfect.

"Meesam would love it, there are so many goats," Murtasim chuckled, his chest vibrating against her back.

"They were sheep," Meerab corrected him with a playful nudge.

"Same thing," he quipped dismissively.

"Murtasimbakri would bite you for that," Meerab laughed, her laughter mingling with the mountain air. "Mee-Mee-bak too."

"I miss Meesam," Murtasim sighed, his voice tinged with a touch of longing.

"Me too," Meerab pouted, her mood momentarily dipping at the thought of their daughter.

"Do you think you're pregnant yet?" Murtasim asked suddenly, his tone hopeful as he placed his hands gently on her stomach.

She burst out laughing at his earnestness and swatted his arm playfully. "I literally went off of birth control a couple of days ago, it takes a while," she reminded him, still chuckling.

"Hmmm, we should have done that earlier," he sighed whimsically, tapping her stomach lightly.

She smiled softly, tracing her finger over his hands in a soothing motion. "We should keep working on it then, and call Meesam after," he suggested, kissing her ear.

She laughed, "priorities."

"You can't blame a man," Murtasim sighed again, this time nuzzling into her neck, his breath warm against her skin as they settled deeper into the embrace and the serene setting, their conversation drifting as easily as the breeze around them.

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A/N: Sooooooooo, what do you think? What was your favourite part? 

In the next part, Murtasim, Meerab, and Meesam will get a little surprise(s)! Hehe.