Warning: mature content. I've placed a heart where the mature scenes start and end for those of you who want to skip it.
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"Amma, Acha," Alan declared confidently, "Meet Fiza, my wife."

Alan's mother exchanged a tense glance with his father, whose clenched teeth revealed the depth of his betrayal. Without uttering a word, his father conveyed his feelings of disappointment and betrayal to Alan.

Alex, Alan's older brother, had also chosen a court marriage path, and Alan was well aware of the waves it had caused within their community. Alex's wife, Rupali, was a Jacobite from Goa, which had posed its own set of challenges. Now, with Alan marrying a Muslim, he couldn't help but wonder about the potential repercussions.

Furthermore, Alan's father had been actively engaged in the process of arranging Alan's marriage with Rumya, a girl he had met multiple times over the past few months for discussions about a prospective marriage. Informing the family that this arrangement was being called off felt like another source of shame and disappointment.

He then thought about Fiza's family. Fiza's father had not only insulted Alan but also his entire family. He had slapped Alan in front of them. How would they accept this unconventional union?

"Achha..." Alan started, but his father's narrowing eyes silenced him. The focus of his father's scrutiny shifted to Fiza, who stood quietly behind Alan, apprehension evident in her posture. She had been a constant presence in their home, and he regretted the harsh words he had spoken about her character to her family. In truth, he had grown fond of her and appreciated the role she had played in Alan's accomplishments.

However, he felt as though the die had been cast. He now faced a pivotal choice: either accept them and share in his son's happiness, or express his displeasure and disappointment to teach Alan a lesson and allow the community to know that he didn't condone his son's actions.

"How did you get married?" Alan's mother asked, her inquiry breaking the silence that had settled in the room.

Alan took a deep breath and began to explain. He recounted how he had initiated the paperwork almost a year ago, following the disastrous pennukaanal ceremony. He detailed how Fiza's previous wedding had never been registered and how, together, they had decided to solemnize their marriage by visiting the marriage office.

In the midst of recounting the story, he couldn't help but show his affection. Alan instinctively leaned down and kissed Fiza's forehead.

Alan's mother cast a meaningful glance at his father, who finally found his voice, making his decision. "We are not going to stand in the way of your happiness."

With genuine warmth, he approached his son, enveloping him in a heartfelt hug before taking Fiza's hands in his. "My daughter," he declared with a smile that radiated acceptance and love.

Tears welled up in Alan's mother's eyes as she embraced her son, then turned to Fiza and enveloped her in a warm hug. "You were always my daughter," she said through tears, her voice filled with emotion. "I wouldn't have been able to accept anyone else in your place. They wouldn't have measured up."

Fiza was deeply moved by her words, her own tears mingling with those of her newfound family.

With a playful smile, Alan scooped Fiza up in a bridal-style carry and made his way over the threshold. He proceeding straight to his room where he gently deposited her on his bed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she quipped, "Did you get your lock back?"

He shook his head, his grin unwavering. "Nope, not yet."

Fiza's expression shifted to one of astonishment. "What? Really?" She couldn't believe it. His lock had been reinstalled two years ago but had been taken away again when he had locked himself in his room for hours after Fiza's first kiss with Faisal, causing his mother immense worry.

"Maybe you should ask for it back," she suggested with a seductive whisper,a playful glint in her eyes.

Alan chuckled at her suggestion and headed to the living room where his parents were engaged in a serious discussion. "Ma, I need the lock back," he declared. His mother narrowed her eyes at him. He could just buy one online and install it himself, he thought. But then what about tonight?

"Come one, amma, it's my wedding night!" He grinned as he thought of Fiza in the bed with him.

His mother, however, gave him a pointed look. "Alan, Fiza will stay in Alex's room. We can't allow this at home until we get her parents on board and hold a reception for you." Her tone was resolute, emphasizing the importance of their family's approval and a formal reception before they could fully embrace their married life at home.

"But ma!" He began.

"People will talk!" She explained, glaring at him.

"People are not being invited to watch what's happening in my room." Alan said exasperated.

"Don't talk like that to your mother." interjected Alan's father.

Alan reentered the room to find Fiza laughing. "You think that's going to stop me tonight?" he playfully teased, closing the door behind him.

Her eyes widened, and the electricity between them was palpable. It had been almost a year since they had been intimate.

"My wife..." he whispered tenderly, the endearment rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

Fiza's eyes shimmered with affection as she asked, "Did you ever imagine, on that bus ride to Pondicherry, that you would ever marry me?"

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Alan gently placed his hands on her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. A soft, affectionate smile danced on his lips as he replied, "I could never have imagined anything better." He sealed his words with a series of sweet, lingering kisses, each one speaking volumes of the love they shared. He then pulled back slightly and sang to her.

"Now that I've tried to
Talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close, don't ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
'Cause I'd already know"

His lips brushed against hers with a tender touch, making each word he sang feel like a sweet, gentle kiss. As he held her close, he realized that in the past year, he hadn't hummed, let alone sung, but it felt entirely natural to do so with her by his side.

"That wasn't our first song," Fiza remarked, shaking her head, her smile lighting up the room.

"Hmmm," he hummed as he playfully sucked her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. "Sing our first song, Fiza," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear before he kissed her earlobe again.

"Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight
So happy together"

The words came out shaky as he kissed her jaw and her neck.

"If I should call you up, invest a dime
And you say you belong to me, and ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine
So happy together"

With a loving smile, he climbed onto the bed behind her and gently pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. His fingers skillfully began working on the strings of her choli easing it off her. He then unhooked her bra. He showered her back with affectionate kisses and he playfully commanded, "Don't stop singing, Fiza."

"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me, baby, the skies'll be blue
For all my life"

Her voice was merely a trembling whisper. Gently, he lowered her body down so that her back rested on the bed, her legs dangling playfully. With a loving touch, he helped her out of her bra, his eyes filled with affection.

In this playful and intimate position, he leaned in and kissed her upside down, while his hands caressed her breasts. Fiza's breath hitched and she moaned softly at his touch.

"Don't stop singing," he insisted, his voice filled with desire.

Fiza protested, "But you were kissing me..."

He interrupted her with a sly grin. "Not anymore."

Kneeling behind her, he sensually bent down, placing his head between her breasts before teasingly attending to them, one by one. The room grew heated as their passion ignited.

"Me and you, and you and me
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together"

She struggled to form words, her breath hitching with every tender kiss and caress he bestowed upon her.

He then positioned himself on the floor, kneeling between her legs. As he helped her out of her Lehenga and her panties, she suddenly stopped singing, lying there fully exposed while he remained fully dressed. Panic crept into her voice as she stammered, "Alan, the door..." She pulled the bedsheet over herself.

Alan was quick to suggest a solution, "We can go into the bathroom. There's a lock there."

Turning on the tap to fill the tub, Alan glanced back at Fiza, who had wrapped a towel around herself.

"Why are you so shy?" he asked, his eyes filled with adoration. "I've seen every bit of you. And every bit of you is mine."

Moved by his words, she stepped closer, helping him out of his shervani and his boxers.

Now, they were on equal ground.

Alan reached out, gently removing her towel, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her body. Her cheeks flushed under his intense gaze as he pressed her against the wall, his kiss passionate, and his desire evident as his manhood prodded her abdomen, igniting a fire of desire that burned brightly between them.

"My wife," he whispered tenderly, his voice filled with adoration, "my Fiza."

She closed her eyes, surrendering to his touch and the intense connection they shared.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, wanting to respect her wishes and not make assumptions.

She shook her head.

"Words, Fiza," he breathed into her ear.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

His fingers found their way inside her, and he skillfully elicited sensations that made her clench around him, her body shuddering with pleasure.

"Aah!" She breathed as her head reeled backwards.

'One,' he counted silently.

"Wrap your legs around me, Fiz," he gently urged.

With her hands resting on his shoulders, she obeyed his request, her legs encircling him as they became one.

Leaning her against the wall for support, he entered her, and she cried out, her body receptive and eager after her previous climax.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident.

She nodded, her breathless response punctuated by a shiver of delight.

"Use your words, Fiza," he ordered softly.

"Yes," she replied, her voice filled with longing.

He began moving within her, starting with a gentle rhythm that gradually deepened as he thrust himself further into her.

Fiza's eyes remained closed, her body arching backward in pleasure as she surrendered to the sensations that enveloped her.

'Two,' Alan counted, smiling, as he felt her tighten around him, her legs pushing against his hips before her body slumped towards him. He wasn't done yet.

He took her breasts into his mouth again, his movements synchronized with his intimate thrusts. The bathroom soon echoed with her soft moans and his primal grunts.

"Open your eyes, Fiza," he whispered, his voice a sensual invitation.

She complied, her eyes filled with the euphoria of their shared connection.

"Look in the mirror, wifey," Alan suggested in a low growl and she turned her head to look in the mirror above the sink.

In the reflection, they witnessed the passionate union of their bodies, their love radiating from their intertwined forms. With each deep and meaningful thrust, they became a living testament to the intensity of their love, forever binding their souls together.

"Faster, Alan," she begged, her eyes sparkling with desire.

He had never seen her so desperate, so wanting for him. He readily obliged, increasing his pace, feeling her shudder and clench once more around him.

'Three,' he counted, smiling silently.

But he still wasn't done, thrusting into her deeper, now having to support her legs as they loosened around him.

"Look at me, Fiza," he whispered seductively in her ear.

She locked eyes with him. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

As they reached the peak of their passion together, both of them came together, their connection deepening.

Alan's gaze lovingly swept over his wife. Her cheeks were flushed, and a sheen of sweat adorned her forehead. Completely out of breath, she had never looked more beautiful to him. He couldn't resist a playful thought - 'four.'

He hadn't pulled out from her yet but he could already feel himself growing inside her once more. With a mischievous smile, he decided to surprise her with a final thrust, causing her to gasp in delightful surprise before he finally pulled away, bringing their foreheads together in a moment of post - love affection.

The bathtub was nearly full, adorned with bubbles. Alan's eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to Fiza. "Ready to recreate some more memories?" he asked, releasing her legs so she could stand.

She stumbled and she leaned onto him, finding comfort and support in his embrace. Her trust in him warmed his heart, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her undoing.

With a playful glint in his eye, he picked her up once more and gently eased her into the tub.

Fiza felt her insides burn from the soapy water. But she looked up at her husband wanting every bit of him that he would give her. Her Alan, her forever.

He sat at the edge of the tub and leaned in to kiss her. "Remember our first kiss?" he mumbled into her mouth.

"Hmm..." Fiza could barely speak. She felt like a puddle of melted need.

He climbed in after her, lifting her up into his lap.

Fiza's shy compliance filled him with a sense of completeness. It was clear to him that she was now completely his, in every sense imaginable, and the love that enveloped them was sweeter than any memory they could recreate.

He tenderly kissed the nape of her neck, his affectionate touch encompassing her, and his heart swelling with love. Cupping her breasts, he watched her turn her face toward him, their eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy before he kissed her lips. Their connection deepened as his hands traced down her sides, caressing her with gentle care, savoring the sweet sensations of their union. He swallowed her moans as his tongue explored her mouth.

His touch grew more intimate, and he felt her quiver above him as his fingers found their way inside her and his thumb found her sensitive nub, tenderly caressing it. His other hand caressed her breasts.

Fiza moaned in pleasure, as she tightened around his fingers again and again, her vocal delight again muffled by his passionate kiss. His male pride counted again - 'five.'

He couldn't believe how responsive she was to him. How much she had held back from him all these years, finally letting go now that she was his wife.

With a deep, primal yearning, he re-entered her, their lips locked in a passionate dance, his hand still on her breast, and the other on her most sensitive spot. The overwhelming sensations flowed through them, and Fiza succumbed to another climax, marking the sixth time, which he counted with a self-satisfied smile. Her body relaxed over him like dead weight as she breathed heavily, unable to maintain their lip lock.

He lifted her hips, guiding her pelvis over his, controlling the rhythm as they reached the pinnacle of their shared desire once more.

In that magical moment of release, they both exploded together, their love and passion binding them in an unbreakable connection. "Alaaan," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

As they lay in the tub together, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Seven times he had made her feel the depths of their love, and he smirked playfully, thinking that if only their bedroom had a lock, he wouldn't have let her sleep that night.

Their love and intimacy were sweeter than any fantasy, and he cherished every moment they spent together.

As he withdrew from her, she collapsed onto him, utterly spent. "Fiza," he whispered, holding her close as her eyes remained closed, the aftermath of their passionate moments leaving her in a state of pure bliss.

He continued to tenderly stroke her, his fingers tracing random shapes along her body, from her collarbone to her pelvis, creating a playful and loving connection between them. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "I love you," and he couldn't help but smile at the sheer sweetness of their shared moment.
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Author's note

This took me a few tries to write - I wanted it to be passionate but also respectful? I think I have failed miserably and it's just weirdly written smut.

Okay, let me just turn down the heat and go hide somewhere.

Please vote and comment.

please do let me know your thoughts!

💜Faiza