Asra couldn’t stop crying.
The moment Ather pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, the full weight of what had just happened crashed down on her. Her small body curled into itself instinctively, trembling violently under the silk sheets. Pain throbbed between her thighs—sharp, burning, unrelenting. He had been so rough, so deep, so merciless.
Big, ugly sobs tore from her chest as she buried her face into the pillow, trying desperately to muffle the sound. Tears soaked the fabric instantly.
Ather lay beside her, still breathing heavily, his powerful chest rising and falling. He turned his head to look at her. Her loud, heartbroken crying filled the room—childish, raw, and completely devastated.
“Sir… it hurts…” she sobbed brokenly, voice hoarse and small. “It hurts so much… I-I can’t… please…”
She pulled her knees up to her chest, wincing at the movement. Fresh tears spilled down her flushed cheeks as another wave of pain and overwhelming emotion hit her. She felt used, stretched, and so incredibly small next to his massive frame.
Ather watched her in silence for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The sight of her crying this violently — shoulders shaking, soft hiccupping sobs, face hidden in the pillow — stirred something in his cold chest. Not guilt exactly. Something darker. More possessive.
He reached out and gripped her waist, pulling her back against his hard body despite her weak attempt to shrink away.
“Stop crying,” he ordered quietly, though his voice lacked its usual ice. One large hand stroked down her spine, almost clinical, while the other brushed damp hair from her tear-streaked face.
Asra shook her head, still sobbing uncontrollably. “You were too rough, Sir… I thought I was going to break. It hurt… I was scared…”
Her words came out in a rush between hiccups, talkative even in her pain. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t good… I’m sorry I’m so clumsy and weak… but it really, really hurts…”
Ather’s jaw clenched. He flipped her gently onto her back and parted her trembling thighs, ignoring her flinch. His fingers brushed over her swollen, reddened folds, checking the damage he had caused. She cried harder at the touch.
“Shh,” he murmured, the closest thing to soothing he could manage. He reached for the bedside drawer and retrieved a small tube of ointment. His movements were efficient, almost detached, as he applied the cooling cream between her legs with surprising care.
“You’ll be sore,” he said flatly, as if stating a fact. “That’s what happens when a man like me takes a girl like you so hard. You’re too small… too tight. But you took me anyway.”
Asra turned her face away, still crying softly. Big tears kept rolling down her temples into her hair. Her lower lip trembled as she whispered, “I was so scared, Sir… you’re so big and strong and I felt like I was going to tear apart…”
Ather pulled her into his arms again, pressing her cheek against his bare chest. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back while she continued to sob against him, soaking his skin with her tears. He didn’t apologize. Men like him never did.
But he held her tighter.
“Listen to me, Asra,” he said, voice low and dangerous against the top of her head. “This is your reality now. You belong to me. In my bed. Under my body. You will cry. You will hurt. And you will learn to take it because I won’t be gentle with what’s mine.”
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his stormy eyes even through her tears.
“Yet you came so beautifully for me… twice.” A dark, arrogant smirk touched his lips. “Your body already knows who it belongs to, even if your little heart is still crying.”
Asra hiccupped another sob, exhausted and overwhelmed. She clutched weakly at his chest, too drained to pull away. The pain between her legs was slowly easing thanks to the ointment, but the emotional storm inside her raged on.
Ather kept her locked in his arms, one leg thrown over hers possessively, trapping her against him. As her loud crying slowly quieted into soft, hiccupping whimpers, he stared at the ceiling, fingers threading through her hair.
She’s too soft for this life.
The thought only made him hold her harder.
“Sleep now,” he commanded quietly. “Cry as much as you need… but never forget who you cried for.”
Asra nodded weakly against his chest, completely drained, her small body still shaking with occasional aftershocks of sobs. In the arms of the man who had just ruined her so ruthlessly, she finally slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Ather stayed awake long after, listening to her soft breathing, his hand never stopping its slow caress on her back.
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