After The Honeymoon

17. Showdown

"Real relationships are the product of time spent, which is why so many of us have so few of them." - Craig D. Lounsbrough

Madiha

Everyone has their favorite way of waking up in the morning. For some it may be the voice of their musical alarm, or the birds chirping, or the warmth of the sunlight filtering through the windows. For me, it was my husband's rough hand gliding over my bare waist as he turned me towards himself and pulled me into his arms, before placing tender kisses on my forehead.

Then his deep, gruff voice would whisper, "Wake up, sunshine."

Today, I decided to keep my eyes shut, pretending to stay asleep. Yet, despite my best efforts to ignore the warmth coursing through me as he lay feather-like kisses across my collarbone, a smile betrayed me anyway. Omar didn't lose an opportunity to tease me.

He started to get out of bed, "Well I guess my wife is too sleepy, maybe those women at the gym..."

My eyes flew open. My hand grabbed his pulling him into bed again. "Come back here," I scowled.

***Seriously Mature Content***

I straddled his lap, cupping his handsome face, and pretended to be offended. I knew he was just joking, but two could play at this game.

"Is that why you go to the gym? To look at women?"

He laughed and slid his hands up my bare thighs and under the blue t-shirt that barely covered me, "Astagfirullah Madi! Why would I look at anyone else, when I am married to the most beautiful woman in the world?"

I would have replied to him, but he had pulled my shirt off and I was too busy planting my lips on his square shoulders and strong biceps reveling in the warmth of his body and the heated trails his hands left on my skin.

"Why would I ever want someone other than the woman who completes me in every way possible?" I heard his deep voice whisper in my ear.

I could hardly catch my breath, let alone think of a reply to him. Because under the remaining fabric that barely covered me, his fingers were wreaking havoc on the nerve endings that supplied the most sensitive part of my body. Pushing me further and further to the edge, knotting my insides, making me desperate for more of him.

The quickened breaths escaping his wet, parted lips, and his hardened muscles under me as I felt myself rock back-and-forth in his lap, made it obvious that I wasn't the only one barely hanging on the edge.

"Omar...either take...me...or stop playing with me," I gasped.

"Well, if those are my only two choices," he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me with those tasteful lips of his turned up into a cheeky grin as he pulled off his pajamas, and then my skimpy underwear.

"I will take you, Madi Omar - because you are mine." He looked at me with such sincerity and passion that the lustful clouds surrounding me cleared for just a moment, forcing me to focus on his words.

"You were made for me, and me alone, and I will only ever be yours."

In the moments of intense pleasure that followed, in the heights that we reached, I forgot those words. But they had been etched in my memory, seared into my soul, for me to remember just a few hours later when I would be sitting in my car, sobbing, wondering if I had made the right decision by marrying the man I loved more than life itself.

Just as those words would remind him of who we were when that day would end.

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