Zayan couldn't stop himself this time. The moment Mahira turned away, trying to push him back, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hard against his chest.
His mouth crashed onto hers — a desperate, hungry kiss that drowned out every thought. Mahira froze at first, the shock burning through her, but the warmth of his touch sent shivers down her spine. A strange mix of fear and longing made her heart pound in her chest.
Zayan's hand slid up her back, pulling her closer, closer still — until there was no space left between them. She felt his breath on her skin, his lips moving fiercely, tasting her soft protest. Her mind screamed to resist, but her body betrayed her, a thousand goosebumps rising where his fingertips brushed her waist under the hem of her kurti.
For a heartbeat she let herself drown in him — in the heat of a touch she'd never known, the rush of a kiss she'd never dared. She could feel him — his heartbeat racing against hers, his chest pressing her so tight she could hardly breathe.
Then she felt his hand slide lower, tracing the curve of her back. When his fingers grazed the strap beneath her clothes, a gasp escaped her lips — too soft, too broken. Zayan's mouth moved to her neck, pressing hungry kisses against her trembling skin. Her breath hitched, a tiny sound of protest caught in her throat.
But then, a warm drop touched Zayan's cheek — a tear, rolling down from Mahira's shut eyes.
He froze. The heat inside him turned cold in an instant. He stepped back, his own breath ragged, staring at her flushed face, her tears.
"Mahira…" he whispered, reaching for her cheek, but she flinched away, covering herself like she was trying to hide from the night.
When she finally found her voice, it broke out of her like a dam bursting.
"Why?" she sobbed. "Why, Zayan? I've saved myself — my respect, my touch — for someone who deserves it. For my husband, for the man who will truly value me. Not like this — not in the dark, on a highway, hidden like some shameful secret…"
Zayan opened his mouth to speak, but she stepped back again, tears spilling faster.
"I refused you because I thought… maybe when I'm something — when I'm someone. An engineer, a doctor, not just a college girl next door. I want to stand beside my partner and feel equal. Not like I'm less than him — not like I have to prove myself just to be enough."
Her voice cracked as she choked on her sobs. "I don't want to lose my self-respect just because you want me, Zayan. I want to stay pure — I want my firsts to mean something. Not stolen like this."
She pressed her palms to her face, trying to stop the tears. Zayan could only stand there, his hands half-raised — wanting to hold her, but knowing he'd lost the right for tonight.
They stayed like that until her sobs slowly faded into tired, shaky breaths. She wiped her cheeks roughly and stepped away, refusing to meet his eyes.
When they saw Inaya and Sahil walking back from the other side of the parking lot, Mahira turned away quickly. She climbed into the car without a word, ignoring Zayan's soft, guilty call behind her.
As she sat in the back seat, she caught a glimpse of Inaya's shy smile and the faint red mark blooming on her neck. She looked away, her heart twisting, but said nothing.
Zayan drove them home. His eyes flicked to Mahira in the rearview mirror again and again — but she sat silently, staring out the window, her eyes numb but her tears long gone.
In the back seat, Sahil and Inaya leaned against each other, giggling and whispering like they were the only two people in the world — their laughter soft under the car's hum.
But up front, Zayan said nothing. He just tightened his grip on the steering wheel and promised himself, for the first time, that he would earn the right to touch Mahira again — when she wanted him to. When he deserved her.
Not like this. Never like this again.
✨ End of Chapter Seven