Older Version of TS {Refer To Revision}✓ UNEDITED!!

❣Chapter Seventy-Six❣

🎶 Amir's feelings in lyrics 🎶

⚠ Rated R ⚠

*Amir*

As the morning sun sparkled into the room, I was surprised to see Luna sitting on the bed. Her hair was damp, tumbling down in messy waves that fell over her shoulders, passed her elbows. She was reading a magazine and caught my eye, gazing down at me.

"Good morning, Prince," she said, rubbing her eye with a balled fist. "Would you like me to go downstairs and grab you a cup of coffee?"

"Mm. Not right now," I murmured, rising and yawning. For a moment, I just gazed at her as she lowered the magazine down, tossing off the covers and straddling my waist, wearing a t-shirt and underwear. My heart thumped.

Sometimes—and it happened very rarely and at odd moments—I was blown away because we are now together and we are one. We are married, and I will enjoy waking up every day to this goddess.

I rubbed her waist tightly and pushed up on her. Leaning up to her lips, I kissed them softly. "I do not need any coffee when I have you to wake my Soul." She let out a soft giggle.

"Mmm. That's right. I should be all the caffeine you need. I come with extra sugar and cream."

I chuckled against her chest. "I'm having inappropriate thoughts right now."

She tightened her hold around my shoulders as I ran my hands up and down her back. "Should that surprise me?" She gave me a cute, tiny smile.

"Absolutely not, my love, my life."

"Life? I am your wife for life," she said, chuckling. "That sounded a bit cheesy, but that is what Luna Khan is. A happily married wife."

Mmm. That roused my soul to hear her say that sentence. A happily married wife.

As she planted her feet back onto the carpet, she wiggled off me and stepped back near her house shoes that were lying next to the dresser, then she bent at the waist, and I really got an eyeful. I stopped thinking. Maybe I was still sleepy and didn't care about my morning routine as dawn seeped in. Or maybe it was her bikini I saw lying on the dresser and my mind thought of going for a dip sometime this morning. And when it all came down to it, I realized I'm a regular man who had sex on the brain no matter what I need to be doing. Either way, I wasn't capable of thinking straight whenever I was around her; never have been.

I climbed out of bed, naked, and reached around her waist, lifting her tiny frame with one arm. A small giggle escaped her lips as I hauled her toward the bed, digging my hand through her hair and holding her tight as I pressed my mouth against hers.

I kissed her softly, then deeply, making sure I could taste everything from her that her body provided—tasting that luscious tongue of hers, maneuvering my lips at the same pace with hers, and feeling her moan into my mouth. I loved it when she moaned. I turned her on as much as she turned me on. And in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn't be engaging into sex right now. I should prepare to pray and give my praise to Allah for sending her into my life. Hell, we should take this time to discuss what we witnessed at our Walima with our parents and all that crap, but screw it.

Like always, she was the only thing I craved.

I wanted to give her my all and nothing else.

Setting her down on her feet, I traced a small line of kisses along her collarbone, feeling her body flood with desire and need, and then I slipped my hands under her shirt, squeezing her skin gently. Her skin was so warm and soft, softer than silk, and that's when I pulled back to help her get out of her shirt, tossing it across the room. I mean, it flew to the other side.