Clash Of Cultures

Bonus chapter - Wedding night

Warning: Mature scenes ahead, plus mention of child abuse and emotional trauma.

Noor

Sara had offered to drive with Salman and I to the hotel after the Rukhsati to help with all the luggage my mom had insisted on packing for me. It wasn't till we reached the hotel room that I realized Salman had spent a quite a lot of money on it. It was not only in a 5-star hotel, but was also a one-bedroom suite on a high floor in the hotel...in downtown Chicago!

"Wow...he is really going all out to make this special, isn't he?", Sara whispered to me, making me blush, "I am getting out of here asap..."

She helped me take out all the pins that were holding up my heavily embroidered dupatta. Then made a beeline for the door, leaving Salman and I standing in the entrance hallway of the suite, each awkwardly trying to decide what we should do next.

"I should take these bags inside...", I finally found some words that made sense.

"Let me...", Salman grabbed them before I could and wheeled the bags into the bedroom.

Ok...calm down. You have literally spent entire nights with him in the hospital. This should not be so hard.

But it was hard, because there were no constantly beeping pagers, or patients that needed to be admitted, or orders that needed to be put in to distract us from each other. Suddenly we were alone in a beautiful room with God given permission to reach out beyond our boundaries. We were free to explore and experience things that we had only thought of before. And in some cases tried not to even think about before.

I walked towards the floor to ceiling glass windows of the 50th floor hotel room. Outside, the city of Chicago was settling down for the night, even as the lights lit up the sky, almost as if the city was transforming itself from a jungle of steel and concrete in the morning to a magical, wonderland at night.

A while passed before I felt movement behind me and turned to see Salman standing there, still wearing his tuxedo. I was finding it hard to control my body's reaction to his presence. My heart was racing, and I know my cheeks had to be a deep shade of pink or red now. It didn't help that his tuxedo looked like it was tailor made for him, accentuating his broad shoulders, and muscular thighs. I knew he had been boxing lately, and I could only imagine what the bulge of his arms and the muscles of abs would feel like.

My mouth was suddenly dry, and I had to lick my lips to moisten them. He must have thought that I was thirsty because he asked if I wanted some water. When I nodded he went to the kitchenette to get me some. I turned back to face the glass windows and a moment later Salman came to stand next to me. He had a glass of water for himself and one for me, which he handed to me. But as he did, our fingers touched and it almost felt like an electric current passed between us. He must have felt it too, because his eyes shot up to look at mine, but then he promptly looked away.

I could barely breathe, I wanted him to touch me so badly. I looked at him again, but he was just staring out the window slowly sipping his water. I couldn't understand what was going on. He had been more physically attentive to me before we were married. Like that night outside the ballroom. I could still feel his hand lingering on my arm, as he looked at me with those lustful eyes. Or when, just two weeks ago, he had asked me to leave his house because he had the urge to do 'things' to me.

Where is all of that tonight? When we can actually indulge in the fantasies we had only dreamt of before.

I couldn't bear it anymore.

Damn it...fine, I'll say something!

"Salman...", my voice was hoarse, "are you not attracted to me?"