Junoon-e-Ishq | 18+

B𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 Zahir × Noori| “Tum meri mohabbat nahi, meri ibadat ho, Noori… Jo paaya nahi jata, use chura liya jata hai. Aur tumse main chura bhi lunga, barbaad bhi karunga.” (“You are not my love, Noori, you are my worship… What cannot be earned, must be stolen. And I will steal you, even if it means destroying you.”) His breath was fire against my throat as he whispered those words, his hand pinning mine above my head. The silk sheets beneath me were cold, but his body caged me in a heat that burned through skin, bone, and soul. I told myself to scream. To push him away. To resist. But my body betrayed me, arching into the danger I swore I hated. His mouth dragged across my collarbone, sharp and claiming, as if he were writing his name there with every bite. My pulse thundered, each beat louder than the last, each one screaming the truth I couldn’t escape— He didn’t just want me. He wanted to own me. Every kiss felt like a bruise, every caress like a chain. His touch wasn’t tender—it was a sentence. His words were shackles, his poetry venom disguised as worship. “Say it,” he growled, voice rough with possession. “Say you belong to me.” Tears stung my eyes, shame and desire warring inside me. I hated him. I craved him. I was terrified of him. And yet, when his hand tightened on my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze, the only sound that escaped my lips was a broken whisper— “…yours.” His smile was ruinous. A conqueror’s smile. And in that moment, I realized the truth that would haunt me forever: This wasn’t love. This was war. And I had already lost. “If I can’t have you, Noori…” his voice was a knife wrapped in silk, “then no one will.”