The Mafia Boss's Bride

Chapter 87 : "Let me see then."

Then Ava heard a voice, "Didn't last long, those little love bites, did they? Maybe I should paint them back, even better this time." His voice dropped to a whisper, sending goosebumps dancing across her skin.

Her eyes flew open, and there he was, Ibrahim, a brooding specter looming over her from behind. His face, upside down from her perspective, held a smirk, that promised both mischief and a smoldering intensity. His hands casually rested on the headrest of the sofa, creating a distinctive pose in the dimly lit room. And his tall frame casted an imposing shadow over her. 

Ava exhaled, the tremor in her breath betraying the storm brewing within. "What are you doing here?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper.

The smirk on his lips deepened. "Just checking on my beautiful wife," he replied, his gaze sliding over her features that made her heart skip a beat. "Didn't expect you to be lost in daydreams all alone."

Ava gave him a glance, trying to maintain an air of seriousness. "I'm not daydreaming. I... I was... I was thinking of something... something serious."

Ibrahim straightened his posture, moving his legs slowly as he came around to sit beside her on the plush sofa. The material yielded under the weight of his presence and Ava felt the warmth of his presence. He observed Ava, with her head still resting on the headrest. His eyes searched her face with a tenderness. 

Her long hair was braided, and Ibrahim appreciated every hairstyle she had, but he especially liked it when her hair cascaded freely without any hairclip or scrunchies.

He reached out, a fingertip tracing the line of her jaw, gently turning her head towards him. Their eyes locked. 

"What's this 'something serious' you're thinking about?" Ibrahim asked. 

"I... I won't tell you," she mumbled. 

His brow furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing his face, "Is it bothering you?"

Ava nodded slowly, "A lot. I'm getting insane these days....It's like... I'm walking on a straight road, empty and endless, but I keep falling. Over and over again."

A smile, faint yet knowing, graced Ibrahim's lips as he watched Ava grapple with her unspoken emotions. He knew. Ibrahim knew how hard Ava was fighting a loosing battle. 

He saw the conflict mirrored in her eyes. It was a sight both intoxicating and heartbreaking, a woman on the precipice of surrender, clinging to the edge with trembling fingers.

A soft sigh escaped Ibrahim's lips as he lifted Ava's hand from her lap. His thumb grazed her palm. Ibrahim held it close, his gaze tracing the lines of her skin, the glint of her wedding ring catching the dim light. Leaning in, he pressed a series of feather-light kisses on her knuckles, each touch sending a tremor through her hand. The tingle climbed up her arm, igniting a fire in her veins.

Ava's gaze followed his hand as he intertwined his fingers with hers. Each delicate curve of her fingers found a perfect match in his palm. His hand was strong and masculine. Ava gulped nervously. 

"You won't fall," Ibrahim murmured, his voice a silken promise against her skin. "Not while I'm here. I'll be your net, your safety net, whenever the ground beneath you crumbles. You're not alone on this road, no matter how empty it seems."

His words were a soothing balm, easing the turmoil within Ava. The truth resonated within her - no matter how much she tried to outrun her feelings, they'd always tether her back to him. 

Ibrahim closed the distance between their faces, and Ava instinctively fluttered her eyelids shut. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she prepared for the kiss.

 But the kiss, the one her heart craved, didn't come.

Instead, she felt his warm breath ghosting over her cheek.

Her senses strained to hear the rustle of his clothes, the telltale sign of his lips about to meet hers. But the silence stretched and Ava waited. Her breath was shallow and quick, silently willing him to close the final gap. Why did he hold back? Why tease her with the promise of fire, only to leave her consumed by a delicious hunger?

Then, the kiss came, but not where she expected. A gentle touch graced her forehead. Ava opened her eyes, finding Ibrahim still lingering close. His fingers tightened around hers, a silent squeeze that sent sparks dancing across her skin.

"I'm angry with you," Ava mumbled. 

Ibrahim asked with smooth voice, "Why, Baby Girl?"

Ava yanked her hand from his grip, her eyes flashing defiance. "Don't you remember what you did to me this morning?" She was telling about the incident when Ibrahim pinched on nipple. 

He raised an eyebrow, "Did I hurt you...there?" His fingers trailed down her arm. 

"A lot," she hissed, crossing her arms in a childish display of defiance.

Ibrahim leaned closer, his voice a husky whisper against her ear. "Let me see then."

Ava's breath hitched. "See what?" she asked, her voice barely a tremor. See her... her nipple?

"Let me see if you're still hurt," he whispered, his fingers tracing the outline of her earlobe. "Or if you've healed… magically."

"I...I need to go downstairs," Ava stammered, rising from the sofa with a haste that betrayed her growing panic. "Tasha needs feeding." She walked towards the corridor. 

But Ibrahim was a step ahead of her. He rose effortlessly and followed her through the darkened hallway.

Ava felt his presence close behind and quickened her pace, breaking into a light run. But Ibrahim's long stride didn't let her to do that. He was enjoying the chase, their footsteps were echoing. As Ava crossed the grand corridor, Ibrahim grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. Her body spun and met with Ibrahim's hard chest.

Ava gasped, "I'm alright, nothing happened. I'm fine." 

Ibrahim chuckled, "I need to confirm that, Baby Girl." 

"No, there's no need." Ava pleaded. 

But Ibrahim, seemingly impervious to her pleas, saw through her facade. He knew her better than she knew herself, and her desperate resistance only fueled his determination. 

Ibrahim bent slightly, his hands finding purchase beneath her knees. Before she could react, he lifted her effortlessly. And Ava landed with a soft thud on Ibrahim's shoulder. She was now facing Ibrahim's back and her world tilted. 

Panic surged through Ava. She kicked her legs, her fists pummeling against his back, "Put me down! I can't see anything! Everything is upside down." 

Ibrahim chuckled, unfazed by her struggle. He carried her with steady and unhurried steps. He went through the corridors with practiced ease, his gaze fixed on a destination only he knew.

He reached a heavy oak door at the end of the hallway and kicked open a door. Darkness greeted them. Ava screamed once again, "Please, Ibrahim."

Ibrahim flicked on the light and set her gently on the bed, the soft mattress cushioning her descent. The world spun for a moment, then steadied. She found herself in a room she hadn't seen before.

Ava saw Ibrahim he locked the door with a click, "Nothing happened Ibrahim. Really.... I'm okay. I swear."

Her heart thundered in her chest. Ava scooted towards the bed's edge, her back pressing against the cool wall. It wasn't fear of Ibrahim that chilled her, but a strange, self-inflicted terror. She knew this day would come, knew she'd react like this, yearning for his touch yet crippled by a skittishness she couldn't explain. And she also knew - this wasn't about proving her injury; it was about claiming what he desired. 

Ibrahim stood near the door and saw the tremor in her chin, the way her eyes flickered like trapped flames, the flush that crept up her neck. He knew that the truth resided not in her words, but in the silent language of her body.

He slowly kicked off his boots, then his socks. The black pants hugged his lean frame, the light grey shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. He was a captivating sight, "Don't be scared, Ava. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

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