🌼Ｅｍｍａ🌼
I expel a deep breath as I open the washroom door and step inside. Zain is taking a shower, something I myself need very much. He didn't bother to close the shower cubicle and his back is facing me.
I study him carefully, trying to pick up what sort of energy he emanates. His shoulders are tense alright, but there is no aggressive vibe. The look in his eyes before he'd turned and left had scared me.
I don't want to relive the resentment he once felt for me. I have to prevent that by distracting him as much as I can. Until he finally believes that I'm here to stay unlike before.
Zain tilts his head slightly towards me, sweeping water from his face and offering me a small smile. That inviting smile is like a seduction. Just like that, I feel my core heating up, aching for relief.
I survey his back in its naked glory. His breathtakingly wide shoulders, the rippling muscles, and the spine indentation create a valley down his back until it disappears around his coccyx, giving way for a muscular, gorgeous ass, the water running between his cheeks.
Biting my lip, I step into the cubicle with him. I kiss him on the shoulder, wrapping my arms around his torso. He groans, stiffening at my touch. I ran my hands down his well-toned stomach, loving every contour. And then my hand finds his dick.
Wrapping my fingers around his girth, I suck in a breath at how huge it feels in my hand. My hand barely closes around it. I saw it last night, but it feels even sexier in my hand like this with the water running down our bodies.
“Jesus, Em." Zain groans, moving his hips as I begin to stroke him. “Just like that.”
Urged on, I quicken my pace, the sound of his moans making me feel so damn heady. Zain is fucking into my hand, loving it as I give him pleasure.
“Fuck!” Zain curses loudly before whirling around, causing me to lose hold of his cock.
Grabbing me by the thigh, he crashes his lips against mine. Kissing me furiously, he grabs the other thigh and hoists me up, pinning me against the shower glass.
“Fuck, you don't know what you do to me. I want you so much. All the fucking time. Tell me you want me too, Em.”
“I want you too, Zain. All the fucking time. I want you to make love to me and... Ah...”
A scream is ripped out of my throat when he surges into me in one quick stroke. He steals the rest of my sounds by plundering my mouth with his tongue. He kisses me so long and hard while he fucks me that I think I'm going to faint from such intense pleasure and headiness.
His groans and moans mix with the sounds of our skin slapping together, and my back slams against the fiberglass each time he drives in, creating such an erotic atmosphere that the pleasure amplifies. Before long, I feel my orgasm building.
“Zain, I'm... Oh, God.” I whimper.
“Yes, fuck. Cum for me, Sweetheart.”
At his command, I come undone, my body seeming to move on its own accord as I ride my pleasure. I feel him bucking erratically into me, before letting out a loud groan and stilling inside me.
After a while, Zain finally set me down. My legs feel shaky, the nerve-numbing pleasure making them weak.
“Fuck. That was amazing.” I say, breathless.
He says nothing.
****
After our hot sex in the shower, something about Zain shifts. I can sense an air of panic around him but is too afraid to ask him what is wrong, afraid it will worsen his mood. But he is holding himself back from me.
I feel it in the way he responds to my kisses and his one-word answers to my questions, and I feel it in how tense his body feels as he holds me while we watch a movie together in the living room. I fall asleep somewhere through it and wake up to crickets chirping and no Zain beside me.
I hear faint thwacking sounds coming from outside and go out to see if it is Zain. It is him, shirtless and chopping wood. It is past twilight and the sky has begun to darken a bit. I approach Zain, and with every step, I realize the sheer amount of aggression with which he is chopping the wood.
“One would think the wood stole your favorite candy or something,” I say, chuckling nervously and waiting for a reaction.
The only response I receive is a grunt.
I sigh, deciding Zain is not going to tell me what he is thinking about unless I speak to him. “Zain is something the matter? You've been...”
“How the fuck are you so calm, Emma?” He barks at me, startling me.
“What are you talking about?" I swallow a lump in my throat.
“This afternoon in the shower. We didn't use any protection.” He points out sharply.
“Oh," I say. This is actually what had gotten him in such a foul mood the whole day? I let a smile fall on my lips. “Zain, I'm clean. You... You are too right?”
“That's not it. What if you get pregnant?” He says it like it's the worst thing that can happen. The implications of why he might feel like that make my stomach churn.
“There's no need for you to worry, Zain. I came prepared.” I bite my lips and look down in embarrassment. “I brought pills.”
“As if that's such an assurance.” His tone is almost scornful. “Pills can fail.”
“Not if they're done right. I had a thorough talk with the pharmacist.” I muse, confused by his reaction, and my mood suddenly sours.
My thoughts race with anxiety. While I came with the intention of having Zain in my life far beyond this weekend, the man hasn't even said anything to that effect. The challenge he threw at me had been only for the weekend. What if that is all he truly wants? Just a weekend of bliss and nothing else?
Still, I'm not even ready to be a mother, so why does Zain's reaction bother me so much?
***
The time between that evening and the next day flies by in a blur. I haven't had such a good time like this in my life before. Zain and I talk a lot, mostly about our favorite Movies and Tv shows.
We both like Marvel. We have a fun argument when he finds out my favorite marvel character is Scarlet Witch. His is Thor, and we set out to list all the reasons why our favorite is better.
I tell him about romance books I've read. He listens just to entertain me even though I know it bores him to death. I also show him my designs for the men's wear at which he marvels and praises my talent.
We cook and eat together, and have sex a lot of times too. More than I can be bothered to count. The hunger and craving I feel for this man only seem to intensify instead of dulling every time we make love. He takes me fishing, and we go swimming again.
Sometimes we sit in silence. Silence so comfortable that words seem redundant. At least that is how I feel about it. I don't know about Zain. Even through the fun times, I know he's not giving his all to me.
I've tried my best not to give too much thought to it, but soon it's Sunday night. Tomorrow the weekend will be over, and I'm still not sure what our time together means to Zain.
“My father was abusive.” The words just came out of my mouth as we sit by the fireplace in silence, me in his arms.
Zain stills and I know he heard me. He doesn't say anything though, urging me to continue.
“He was a good father and a husband for a while. Then things changed when I was ten. The house was never quiet. He and my mum screamed at each other all the time. And he... he beat her. So often I lost count. For so many years. He broke her. She was crying all the time. In so much pain, both physical and emotional. Until she died. My father never really even looked at me anymore except with hate in his eyes. I didn't know what to think of the world anymore. I had to protect myself somehow. I didn't want to end up like my mother...”
“So you shut your heart to the possibility of love.” Zain completes it for me in more precise words than I could've used. “That's why you never gave in to your feelings for me. You were afraid of getting hurt like your father hurt your mother.”
His voice holds so much understanding that I break down right then. My body quivers as raw memories tear through me, making my throat feel too tight.
“I'm sorry, Zain. I'm so sorry for hurting you the way I did. You... You just made me feel too much. Too much more than I could stand. I didn't want to feel that way so I sought to push you away. What I did was horrible. I'm so sorry.”
He holds me and comforts me as I continue to cry. The last thing I hear is him saying it's going to be okay before sleep pulls me into its kingdom.