A Piece Of His Heart

Eighteen

"Shirt…?" She spoke, mainly to my chest than to my face. I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. Her eyes didn't seem to be wanting to return to their normal size anytime soon either.

"Needs to be ironed. Stop acting like this is the first time you're seeing me without a shirt, sweetheart."

"Yeah, and I don't think I'll get used to that even if it was the hundredth time I saw you without a shirt." Her 'that' I assumed were my arms as she continued to stare at them. I laughed again, walking over to her and bending down in front of her to level my face with hers.

However, her eyes were still lowered. "My face is up here, sweetheart." I whispered, having too much fun with messing with her.

She looked up, her cheeks flushing pink and I curled my hand around the back of her neck, crushing my lips to hers in a sloppy, frantic kiss. Her hands explored, running over my shoulders and down my arms and torso, sending blood rushing through my veins.

I tangled my fingers in her hair and tugged, separating our mouths to trail kisses over her cheek and down to her jawline. Her nails dug into my skin when I grazed my teeth on the underside of her jaw and flicked the spot with my tongue. My name spilled out of her lips in a breathless whisper which only spurred me on as I reached the skin under her earlobe and toyed with it between my mouth.

And when her hand rested over my bare stomach, I remembered that I'd left the iron to heat up and pulled away from her to quickly press my shirt and wear it. She still sat on the couch, looking dazed as she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap.

"What happened?" I asked as I slid into my jacket on then draped a grey scarf around my neck before pulling her up on her feet.

"I'm hungry." She grumbled out with puckered lips. I tweaked her nose causing her to swat my hand away with a scowl, and me to grin at her. I let her take my arm and led her out of the cottage, locking it behind us.

I stopped when she stopped walking, seemingly fascinated by a boy in his teenage, holding a tray in his hands with... wrapped paan?

"I thought you were hungry, Eliza." I deadpanned, seeing her practically salivate at the sight of paan. Why hadn't I known that my wife was a fan of paan?

"I can have paan first, it's okay." She grinned, skipping up to the guy. He asked her to pick anyone she wanted. Once she'd decided after much contemplation though she couldn't even see one of them, I paid for it and watched her sit down on a rock, open it and gobble the whole thing down in one bite.

"What kind of a monstrous bite was that?" I squeezed into the rock beside her, watching her face as she chewed. She looked like she was eating the best thing she ever tasted.

"Maybe you should get one for yourself, too. You're seriously missing out." She said as she continued chewing and covered her mouth to speak.

My nose scrunched. "I don't eat paan, and stop making that face."

"What face?"

"Like something extremely pleasurable is happening to you."

"So? This paan is great." I continued to stare at her, waiting for her to catch onto the meaning behind my words. And when she did, her face turned red as she smacked me in the arm. "God, Waleed! What is wrong with you?! Can you, like, get your head out of the gutter?"

I raised my hands in defense, struggling to keep away a smile. "You can't blame me when my wife looks like this and is making such an orgasmic face." If anything, her face only got redder but she kept up her glare.