“I feel it, too,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear, excitedly. “Please don’t fight it. I need to feel connected to you. I need you with me. Come with me like you love to do.”
Azmir’s invitation was so heady and difficult to resist. My previous tears of confusion turned into that of bliss as I felt the growing detonation in my belly and came all around him. He spilled into me, potently. Hot, virile, translucent liquids squirted, invading my womb. Azmir’s chest beat violently against mine as his silken skin lay dank against to mine. His body shuddered over me, not withholding any emotion or sensation he felt as he climaxed hard. He relaxed his six foot four inch frame on top of me, not wanting to break our enfold. Azmir’s desires didn’t need to be communicated using words. I knew he was begging me not to leave him over this recent discovery. To be with him forever.
When my alarm went off a few hours later, Azmir lay splayed, partially on top of me as I lay on my stomach. He was so possessive and insecure in his subconscious. I reached over to turn off the clock and proceeded out of bed to start my day when I caught a glimpse of the glare from my hand. I squinted my eyes at my engagement ring. He must have slipped it back on while I was asleep.
Azmir was making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want a break, or interruption of our relationship. I looked over to him, surreptitiously stealing a view at his sleeping profile. Azmir was gorgeous even in his sleep. His position resembled a male model on the cover of a magazine. It was difficult at times to believe his pulchritude, it was remarkable. Then when you factor in his physique and stature, he was damn near unbelievable. Could I maintain this man? He could have any woman he wanted, but he was here petitioning my lifelong commitment. A pang ran through my belly, forcing me to retreat to the bathroom.
In the vanity mirror, I observed the bags underneath my reddened eyes as I stood there taking inventory of all the reasons I should have called out of work for the day. When I tried pulling at my skin to stretch the bags, I noticed the sadistic bruising on my wrists. What in the?!
Those handcuffs.
Azmir’s brutal handling of me.
My unrelenting combativeness.
Our chemistry.
It made me question what Azmir and I were doing in our relationship. I learned that he was financially supplying the welfare of his ex-girlfriend and her child, I reacted to it and somehow woke up to bruised wrists and a sore body, feeling pain—inside and out. My god, even the sex was violent.
After finishing up, washing, and applying much needed make-up, I went into the walk-in closet and picked up my phone to text Tyler. I had to cancel my workout session with him. There was no way I could explain the bruising and my overall feeble state.
I stood in the closet in a black midi skirt that I thought would be easy to pair a top with. I frantically searched for a long-sleeved blouse to match that wasn’t too formal for work-wear. My unbearable frustration was nearing again from last night when Azmir walked up on me. His appearance, vast, masculine stature always caused my breath to stagger. He was bare from the waist up, wearing his black basketball shorts and black ankle socks, sipping a cup of coffee with one hand and handing me two jewelry boxes with the other.
“I ordered these up a few weeks ago, but forgot they were in my office with other deliveries that I haven’t had the chance to go through yet. These should help today.”
His eyes bore into me, begging for words of comfort and approval of the state of us, but I had nothing for him. I took the boxes, examining the designers’ names on them, feeling anger stirring inside again. Azmir remained standing there, towering me, imploring with his eyes. He was back to his calm and resolved self, almost as if last night didn’t happen. I still needed my distance from him. I just needed time to think about exactly how nauseatingly crazy last night was.
“Boyd has arrived. What would you like for breakfast?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t have much of an appetite,” I murmured raspingly.
“How about your usual?”