Again, thank you for your kind feedback and favorites. So, this is why the story had to go up to the M-rating. I normally don't write smut, but this was one of the few stories where it felt right and I actually just realized what I was writing halfway through. This is also the longest chapter for the story. And now I will shut up and leave you to read.
Taking the water bottle, Kadira took a sip of the warm liquid before she handed it back to her husband. Behind them on the bed, Layla was asleep, the painkillers having kicked in and effectively knocking her out. She could feel Farook's eyes on her. Normally, she was not this silent; normally, he would have heard the story of their escape, of how she had dodged the bullets. Normally, it would end up with them in the bathroom, her pressed against the door with him buried deep inside of her, making love, taking care of the arousal that the close encounter had caused. Celebrating the fact that they were still alive when Amir was not. But she couldn't. She did not want to talk, and she certainly did not want to be touched anywhere. The pictures where back in her mind, the moment she had recognized Ziva's face the lock she had kept on the drawer in her mind had broken, and they had all come flooding back, assaulting her. Memories long ago buried deep inside of her, moments she had forbidden herself to remember. But oh, how she did remember. She still felt the warm rain on her skin when she had played tag with Tali in the yard belonging to the Israeli's father's large mansion. She could still hear Ziva's voice as she sang to her in Hebrew, some kid's song that made her really believe that race and religion did not matter, that they were the same.
Angrily, Kadira forced the happy memories aside. They had been lies, nothing more than lies. Just like the one Ari had told her when he promised he would return from the US soon, and that they would be together forever from then on. Just like when her father had said he would be right back from fetching some stupid documents from his car. Just like the Israeli soldier that had said she did not need to be afraid of him, he was only making sure she would get home safely after breaking the curfew. She had only been thirteen and lost her virginity to a monster that had threatened to shoot her the moment they were out of earshot of the other soldiers.
She had known what her brother was doing at Mossad. And it had broken a part of her heart. She had believed that he was different from the other Israelis. That having a Palestine mother had made a difference in Ari. As a small child, she had been furious when her mother died, not because she was dead, but because Ari got to stay in Israel and her father took her back to Gaza. She had wanted to be with Ari. And up until she saw a Mossad agent kill the father of her best friend, she had still worshipped the ground her older brother walked on. She had loved Ziva and Tali and had been devastated when she heard the news of Tali's death. She had cried for days, because even at only fourteen, she knew exactly what the death of the youngest child of Director David meant. In the following airstrikes, she had lost three friends. They had paid for something Hamas had done. Not understanding who had started the bloodshed, all Kadira had wanted was for it to end. She had wanted nothing more than the pain and grief to finally end, to not put another picture into the small photograph album she kept in her desk drawer. She had not wanted another chair at the makeshift school she went to to be abandoned from one day to the next because the occupant had died. All she had wanted was safety and a future that did not have PAIN written all over it in bold letters.
At night, she had stared at the stars in the dark sky, naming them in her head, first in Arabic, then in Hebrew. She had known that wherever he was, Ari would be doing just the same. He had always done it with her when he visited. He had taught her the Hebrew names, and told her stories to go with the constellations. They had picked one out for their mother, and one for Tali. Before he went to the US, he had visited one last time. And the last night they spent together, he had taken her up on the room of the shabby hut she and her father lived in. They had lain on the dirty ground, staring at the stars, Ari's arm wrapped around her, her snuggled into his side, her ear right above his heart. And then he had picked out a star for himself. He had pointed at it, and told her it was his. Kadira had not understood the significance of that action. Ari brought out the child in her again, she felt so much younger when she was with him, like she could be a child again and he would protect her from any harm. But she still remembered the cold chill running down her spine when she had wanted to pick a star for herself, and he had told her no, his gentle voice harsh all of a sudden, an edge in it that she had never heard before. He had known he would die. And still he had promised her he would take her to Tel Aviv to visit Ziva for her birthday. Only the thing was, her birthday had come. And she had been in Tel Aviv alright. But she had stood at her brother's grave, placing a small stone where in a little less than a year the headstone would be, telling the world that Ari Haswari laid there, beloved son and brother. Then she had turned her back on Israel. Instead of going back to Eli David's house where Ziva and her father were waiting for her so she could join Mossad, she had vanished from their radar. She had met up with Ari's contact in Hamas, determined to end what her brother had begun. He had turned against Mossad, even though neither Eli nor Ziva had said it, it had been clear. Why else would Eli David not attend the funeral of his only son?
And now she had orders to kill Ziva David. The woman she had considered to be her sister. She knew that Ziva had tried to find her during the last three years. But constant changing of her alias and her looks had made it impossible for anyone to keep track of her movements. Hell, even Farook had not known where she was for a lot of their marriage, just as she had had no idea where he was. This was their first mission together after seven months of no contact at all. And she had missed him so much. He was her anchor in this chaos; he was the one constant thing. Even when he was not right at her side, she knew he was out there somewhere, loving her just like she was loving him.
|We need to make contact. Amir's dead, they need to know.| Farook's soft voice pulled Kadira from her thoughts, and she nodded slowly. He was right. But there was also a problem. Amir had been the oldest, hence why he had had the contact details. They all knew the name, but how to find the person, how to establish contact was a different matter.
All of a sudden, Kadira did not want to think any more. She did not want to consider the options any longer; she did not want to go through the details of what had happened, of what to tell their contact. She just wanted to forget. And there was only on way she could think of, other than drinking herself senseless. And she was a Muslim woman; she did not drink unless it was necessary for her cover.
Letting her hand run down the arm of her husband, she stood up before straddling his hip, looking into his eyes. Farook raised an eyebrow at her, a silent question as to what was going on inside her head. Letting her eyes wander over his face, Kadira willed herself to forget the last few hours. She rocked her hips slightly and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on his lips. When he responded and opened his mouth to her begging tongue, she let a small moan escape her lips. 29 hours had been far too long for her liking. Her senses went into overdrive when she felt his hands slip under her shirt, caressing the soft skin he found on her back. She reached up and buried her hands in his hair, tasting the sweetness of his kiss, peppermint and raspberry and something that was just him, the essence of Farook Esfiri. Her mind took her back to their wedding night, how gentle he had been, whispering soft words of comfort and love as he had wiped away her tears and made love to her for the first time, her fear slowly slipping away she had allowed herself to fall completely, had surrendered to his touch and kissed every coherent thought good bye. She silently cursed the fact that Layla was wounded and they only had one bed in the shabby motel room. Her heart ached for a slow pace, a lazy rhythm that had nothing to do with bodily needs but everything with their feelings for each other. She wanted to make love, not have a quick fuck in the bathroom. Her hands found their way between them, and she quickly undid the buttons of Farook's shirt, letting her nails rack teasingly over his muscles, causing him to suck in a deep breath. His mouth moved from hers to her jaw and then her neck. When she felt his teeth graze over her pulse point, she quickly covered her mouth with one of her hands to keep from screaming out. His erection pressed against her through the fabric of their pants, and Kadira rocked her hips again, moaning at the sensation.
|Bathroom.| she whispered into his ear. Farook stood up, and she wrapped her legs around him, securing herself to him. In the tiny room, however, he sat her down on the counter before closing the door and locking it. His normally dark brown eyes had turned black with desire when he looked at her again, grabbing a towel off the rack, and unfolding it before letting it fall to the ground. Kadira raised an eyebrow in confusion when he took the place between her legs again, looking into her eyes as he let his hand run through the dark curls of her hair.
|I love you. More than anything else in the world.| he softly said, causing her eyes to water. She reached up and took his face between her hands before pulling him down and kissing him lovingly, murmuring her love for him against his lips in turn. His hands found the way under her shirt again, and pulled on the hem. Reluctantly, she raised her arms and broke the kiss for a second so he could take it off. She brushed his shirt off his shoulders, causing it to fall to the floor and join her shirt. While Farook kissed his way down her throat and to her lace-covered breasts, she threw her head back and arched into his touch, not able to suppress the moans that escaped her. Her brain kicked in again, telling her that this would not work as long as they were still clad in their pants and underwear. Making quick work of the button and zipper of her husband's jeans, she pulled at them, causing them and his boxers to slide to the ground.
|Someone's definitely overdressed.| Farook murmured against the valley of her breasts and she felt one of his hands sneaking into her pants while the other wrapped around her, pulling her to him, his hand resting between her shoulder blades, allowing her back to arch. When his thumb found her clitoris, she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, the moan so loud her husband quickly kissed her to stifle the sound.
|Oh GOD!| she yelled as she felt two of his fingers slip inside her, moving in a come-hither-motion, hitting her g-spot perfectly. She felt him smile against her lips, and decided two could play this game. Reaching down between them, she took his rock-hard member into her hand, her thumb gently rubbing over the slit. Farook bucked his hips against her, moaning her name into her mouth, tightening his hold on her, his fingers stilling inside of her for a moment. They continued to tease each other until the lust became unbearable, and they could not hold back for much longer. At some point, Kadira had lost her bra, the black lace had taken the trip to the floor just like her pants and string did now. To her surprise, Farook did not enter her. Instead, he lifted her up from the counter, and slowly bent down. Getting what he was doing, Kadira wrapped her legs around him and let go of him, using her hands to brace the fall behind her while he held her close to him. The towel made the cool tiles bearable, though it was scratchy against her oversensitive skin. Pulling down his head, Kadira kissed her husband deeply, feeling his penis press against her entrance. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his eyes before she pushed up against him, sinking him into her, quickly covering his mouth as she moved her head and softly screamed into his shoulder. The last thing they needed was for Layla to wake up and come knocking on the bathroom door.
They both lay panting, holding each other close, and enjoying the sensation of being joined as one. After a while, Kadira turned to look into his eyes again, rocking her hips slightly, the message loud and clear. They picked up a lazy rhythm, slow and intense, slowly gaining speed.
|I love you.| Kadira whispered when she felt the pressure inside of her build up, her hips bucking against her husband's, her nails racking over his back, leaving marks that would no doubt be visible for a few days. His movements became erratic, he slammed into her harder, and she grabbed his wrists next to her head, entwining their fingers, flexing her hands as she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her hold, changing the angle slightly and causing him to hit her g-spot again with the next trust. She cried out his name as the first wave of her orgasm hit her hard, knocking the breath out of her. Her hips bucked against him again, her inner muscles tightening around him, releasing him and tightening again, causing him to lose his battle for control and spill his seed into her, her name on his lips and echoing off the tiled walls. He collapsed onto her, but immediately rolled onto his side, his hands going to her back, keeping her close with him and himself buried inside of her as they waited for their heart rates to return to normal and their breathing to slow down. Kadira closed her eyes, her face buried in his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. She felt his fingers trail lazy circles on her naked and sweaty back and his lips kiss her hair. Listening to his heartbeat slowing down gave her a sense of security and safety, and she allowed herself to surrender to the need for sleep. A few minutes later, Farook's breathing evened out, too, his eyes slowly closing and his mind shutting down, joining his wife in her peaceful slumber.
So there's the reason for the M-rating of the story. That, and the ending. Sorta.
Reviews? Pretty please? And feel free to point out grammatical errors and poor word choice.