My routine was broken.
I woke up in my own apartment, later than usual. The faint hum of the Las Vegas air-conditioner filled the quiet morning silence. My body still carried the memory of him — sweet, lingering aches between my thighs, faint bruises on my hips where his fingers had dug in possessively, and the ghost of his lips on my neck and breasts.
For the last two days we had stolen every possible moment together. Yesterday, he had pulled me into the private elevator between meetings, pressed me against the mirrored wall, and kissed me until my knees buckled and I gasped his name.
The day before that, after the board had left, he had lifted me onto his desk, rucked my blouse up, and kissed every inch of my exposed skin with slow, wet reverence while whispering how perfect I was, how no one else would ever compare. We still hadn't gone all the way — something inside me still trembled and held back at that final line — but every touch, every moan, every "good girl" he growled against my skin had felt like the sweetest surrender wrapped in honey.
I had come undone so many times I lost count. And each time, the word Astaghfirullah had floated through my mind like smoke… softer now, almost tender.
I sat up on shaky legs and padded to the bathroom. The mirror showed a woman I barely recognized — hair messy from his hands, lips still slightly swollen, a faint love-bite peeking just above my collarbone. My heavy breasts felt tender, nipples still sensitive from the way he had sucked and bitten them while I rode his thigh last night. Just the memory sent fresh heat blooming low in my belly, making me wet again.
Astaghfirullah… Ya Allah, forgive Your weak servant. I let him touch me like that again and again. I whispered Your name in guilt even as I moaned his. How far have I fallen that even my body remembers sin with such sweetness?
I made wudu slowly, letting the cold water shock my heated skin, trying to wash away the traces of last night's lust along with the sleep. Then I unrolled my prayer mat facing the qibla sticker on the wall. I prayed Fajr with extra care, lingering longer in sujood, forehead pressed to the rug.
"Ya Allah," I whispered, voice trembling, "I know this is haram. I know I am tainting something pure with my desires. But my heart… it beats only for him now. Forgive me for this weakness. Forgive me for wanting his hands, his mouth, his love more than I fear Your anger. Guide me… or at least give me strength for the little time I have left here."
Tears slipped down my cheeks onto the mat. I stayed in prostration longer than usual, my heart heavy with guilt and a strange, aching peace at the same time. When I finally finished, I folded the mat carefully and dressed for the office — cream silk blouse that still felt too tight across my breasts after his attention, charcoal pencil skirt, navy blazer, and my hair pinned into a neat ponytail. The woman in the mirror looked modest again, but I knew what lay hidden beneath the fabric. I knew whose marks I carried.
The Escalade was waiting as always. Marcus gave me a small, silent nod. At the office, Marie was already in the pantry, two cups of coffee ready. She took one look at me and smirked.
"Someone had a very good weekend," she teased, voice low and playful. "You're glowing, habibti. Or should I say… thoroughly kissed?"
I blushed crimson, ears burning, and sat beside her. "I just… fell in love, Marie."
The words made her eyes sparkle with delight. We spent the next twenty minutes in our little bubble — laughing softly about the latest board gossip, sharing the barfi I had brought from home, her complaining about the Suamsungu fallout while I tried not to think how much of it was because of me. For a few precious minutes, the firm felt warm, safe, almost normal.
Then my phone buzzed on the table.
Subject: University of Texas – Internship Mid-Point Review
My stomach dropped. I opened the email with shaking fingers.
Ms. Khan, Your mid-point performance review and report are due by end of day tomorrow. Please return to campus to submit all documentation, meet with your faculty advisor, and provide the signed evaluation from Hardpound Strategic Holdings. Travel will not be reimbursed.
Only two weeks. Only two weeks left before my internship officially ended. Two weeks before I had to fly back to Texas, sit in those familiar halls where people had once laughed at me, and spend the rest of the semester there while the distance between Lucifer and me grew wider every single day.
The thought hit like a punch to the chest. Ji-Ah's father could still push that deal again. Some other polished, confident woman could see the opening and take what I had barely begun to claim as mine.
Tears pricked my eyes before I could stop them. I quickly covered my face with my hands so Marie wouldn't see right away.
"Aafreen? What happened?" she asked, concern replacing her teasing tone.
I showed her the email, my voice barely a whisper. "I have to go back tomorrow morning. Only two weeks left… It's not long enough to say proper goodbyes. I'll miss you. I'll miss him. I've never felt this sad, Marie."
She squeezed my hand gently. "Aww, habibti… We are not parting forever. You know you can always come back here after you graduate, right? Lucifer will retain you in a heartbeat."
I knew she was right. I would be needed here. And I had faith in Lucifer's love — in our love. But that didn't change the fact that I wouldn't see them for a long time.
"I know," I replied softly, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
"Did you talk to him yet?" she reminded me gently. "Go. Meeting him will clear your head."
I found Lucifer in his office, the weight of Suamsungu's sudden refusal still visible in the tight set of his shoulders and the pile of paperwork on his desk. The moment I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, the tears spilled over again.
"Lucifer… I got an email from UT."
He looked up instantly, crossed the room in two long strides, and pulled me into his chest. His arms wrapped around me like steel and safety.
"Shh… What happened, darling?"
My voice cracked completely. I stood there shaking, overwhelmed by guilt, love, fear of losing him, and the relentless ticking clock.
"I have to fly back to Texas tomorrow for my mid-point review. I'll only have two weeks left after that before the internship ends. I'm… I'm so scared. What if while I'm gone, Ji-Ah or someone else tries to take you away? I know I'm just the intern who still prays and feels guilty every time you touch me, but I love you. I love you more than I know how to handle."
His heartbeat thundered against my cheek. Then his own voice grew thick with emotion as he held me tighter.
"My angel… my beautiful Aafreen." He pressed his lips to the top of my head. "You think anyone could replace you? You walked into my life with your hijab, your prayers, and your quiet strength, and you turned everything upside down. You defended me when my own family tore me apart. You let me hold you even when it made you whisper astaghfirullah. You're not just an intern. You're the only light I've found in years. I love you, Aafreen. I love you so much it terrifies me too. I will always love you."
The words sank into me like warm sunlight after a storm. I clung to him, sobbing softly against his shirt. He cupped my face, thumbs gently wiping my tears, and kissed me — deep, slow, pouring every unsaid promise into it.
When we finally broke apart, breathing hard, the hunger flared again in his eyes. I had come to recognize that look — the way he always grew ravenous for me right before he did something good, something that made my heart feel safe.
This time, I didn't hesitate like I used to.
My hands slid down his chest. I dropped to my knees right there behind his locked office door, heart pounding with wicked need and lingering guilt. I freed him from his trousers — thick, heavy, and already hard for me — and took him into my mouth with a soft, needy moan. He groaned my name, fingers threading gently through my hair.
I worshipped him with slow, reverent strokes of my tongue. Then I unbuttoned my blouse, unhooked my tight bra, and freed my heavy breasts from their confines. I pressed them together around his slick length, sliding him between the soft, warm valley while I licked the swollen tip every time it rose toward my lips. Spit and his arousal glistened on my skin.
"Good girl," he rasped, voice wrecked with pleasure. "My perfect angel… look at you giving yourself to me like this."
I worked him faster, breasts squeezing tighter, until his thighs trembled and he spilled hot and thick across my tongue and mouth with a low, broken groan. I swallowed what I could, the rest painting my chest like a secret I would carry hidden under my blouse all day. When I looked up at him, eyes still wet, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me again, tasting himself on me without any shame.
After we caught our breath, he rested his forehead against mine.
"Move in with me for the two weeks you have left," he said softly. "Stay in our home. Wake up beside me every morning. Let me love you properly before you have to go back to Texas. I'll always have space for you."
My heart soared even as guilt whispered in the back of my mind. I nodded, voice small but sure.
"Yes… I'll move in with you for those two weeks. I promise." I kissed him softly. "Tomorrow morning I'll fly to Texas, submit the review, spend one night with Ammi, then come straight back to you."
He held me tighter, as if the world outside could wait a little longer. I closed my eyes against his chest, breathing in cedar, musk, and him.
Astaghfirullah… Ya Allah, forgive Your servant again for how deeply she has fallen. But right now, wrapped in his arms with his love still ringing in my ears and his mark still warm on my skin, I felt like I belonged exactly where I was.
I was his angel. Even if only for two more weeks.