Am I Married?

31. The Cold-Hearted Brute

The sun had risen. I found out about it when the weak rays of sunlight flickered through the large window and teased my eyes. I was laying motionlessly on the middle of the large bed of the room.

Ashar was right. I was a foolish, stupid and amateur teenager. He showed it to me last night.

This was the first time in my life, when I felt suicidal. I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn't face anyone anymore. Ashar took advantage of my emotionally weak state. My mind was surely malfunctioning last night that I didn't give a thought of the outcome of my own actions. I forgot about his resentment for me.

His kisses and hugs were lessening my mental torments so I just let my feelings floated. They were satisfying my longing desire so I gave in. I gave in to my virtue to him.

I left his room in the middle of the night before he could wake up and spent the rest of the night in other room; the room that the family offered to me when they brought me to this mansion. I thought I couldn't be able to face Melanie after that or answer her questions so I stayed here and tortured myself by replaying last night's memories in my mind.

I assumed that he had some sort of romantic feelings for me and made this whole marriage relation a lot more complicated.

I slowly blinked my eyes opened in the middle of the night, registering the different bed, different surrounding. Bit by bit, series of images crossed my mind and I remembered why I was in a different room. My lips curled up into a coy smile. I moved my eyes down and saw that my naked-self was covered by white cotton sheets.

My legs were entangled with Ashar's. His arms were around me and his face was close to my shoulder blade. Slow breaths that were exhaling out from his mouth tickling my bare skin. Gently, I tried to move his arm that was placed just down my chest because I wanted to turn on my side. I wanted to look at him while he was asleep. He got slightly disturbed and put his arm to his side and even pulled back his legs from mine.

I turned and faced him. The lights snores coming from his nose was an indication that he was in deep sleep. His long, dark lashes were resting on his cheekbones. I felt the urge to touch them. They would surely feel like soft feathers. His thick, lustrous hairs look disheveled. I was the one who messed them up. I ran my fingers in them all night when he was doing wonders to me.

Every cell of my body was screaming for him. There was no space between us. My every body part was rubbing against his still I wanted him closer, closer and closer. The eagerness, the yearning increased in me with every kiss.

My gaze move to his slightly parted lips. I recalled how that pair of lips incited those wild, suppressed desires in me. The tiny hair on my arms stood up, making me lightly shivered. His effect on me was still so strong. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. I wanted to make the rest of my nights like today. Yeah, I was not going to deny anymore what my heart wanted, not going to run away from my own feelings.

"Ashar." I whispered, tracing my finger on his cheek.

"Hm." I got astonished when he responded lowly.

The smile on my lips widened. Now I used all of my fingers and caressed his cheek, going down to his neck. His skin was rough, yet smooth and soft. "I think I'm falling for you." I said without thinking much.

His nose wrinkled as if he got irritated while his eyes remained closed. He moved the bed covers up to his chest, "Tsk. Stop it, Samara. You know I hate it when you say that."

My smile faded, replaced by the utter bemusement. Samara? Did he just say Samara's name?

He turned to his other side, showing me his bare, flat back. "Go back to sleep." He murmured in a very low voice.