Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (47 page)

BOOK: Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)
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My neck jerked involuntarily and I saw Azmir’s eyes close in exasperation.

“What?” I demanded.

“Tara, get the fuck outta here!” Azmir ordered in his Brooklyn tongue through clenched teeth then paced over to the door. “And if you really want to know about money, go ask your muthafuckin’ father,” his voice had slightly hitched.

Tara didn’t say another word. She didn’t have to. She won. She placed her baby back in the stroller and with a trace of a grin, made her way to the door. She didn’t turn to look at Azmir before he slammed the door when she stepped over the threshold. He stood there, facing the door with his hands resting on his waist.

Suddenly, I realized my breathing was out of control and my body had tensed. I felt like I’d been hit with a bag of bricks. Azmir was caring for a child that was not his
and
her mother, who tried to trap him into believing it was his? He’d lied in Tahiti. He agreed to take care of Tara and her baby
indefinitely?

Was Harrison correct about their bond?

Why was I now feeling like the outsider that Harrison tried to convince me I was?

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, trying to make sense of it all. In my periphery, I could see him turning around, but before Azmir could utter a word, I headed toward the bedroom. I went straight to the closet to throw on a pair of jeans. As I reached up to grab a pair off the shelf, I felt his hand snatch them from my grip. Looking up, I saw his heavy eyes. 

“I don’t need this shit right now. Let me explain,” he spoke with flared nostrils and out of breath.

“Explain? Explain how you were going marry me and secretly take care of a woman who cheated on you and fucking humiliated you in front of your peers by getting pregnant by a wanna-be rapper?” Azmir’s forehead wrinkled. “You think I didn’t know? I do!”

Frustration flashed across his face. “Rayna, you don’t know all the details of this story. Let’s sit down so that I can explain them to you.”

“Fuck you, Azmir! Apparently you don’t mind allowing people like Tara and her father make a fool out of you, but I don’t take well to it being done to me at all.”

I looked up to go for my jeans, but his hand was still laying on top of them. Beyond frustrated, I peeled off my engagement ring and slammed it into his chest. “You can give this to her to pawn for more money. I’m sure it will get her enough money to buy
you
time to get over me because I am fucking out of here!”

He grabbed the ring and I saw the fear in his face. He shook his head, “No. You’re not running. Not over something that means nothing to me. Not right now...not ever!” his voice grew.

“Move, Azmir!” I screamed, nearly to top of my lungs, feeling my tears flooding the sockets of my eyes. “Move!” He wouldn’t budge. He just kept shaking his head.

“Move!”

“No! You’re not leaving! She doesn’t fucking matter. That money wasn’t significant. I can fucking wipe the shit from my ass with it! It won’t happen again,” he declared.

I don’t know where the audaciousness came from, perhaps from my rage, but the next I knew I had hauled off and punched Azmir in his mouth. His head swung from the unexpected blow. Fear pounded in my chest.
What in the world did I just do? What is he going to do?

When he turned his face back to me, I flinched internally, in disbelief of my anger. But I was ready for more. I was eyeing the vase sitting on top of the island there in the closet. If he made one move to hit me, I would make a dive for it.
 

Azmir’s face was balled and his grimace was fixated on me. We were both out of breath waiting on each other’s next move.

“Got any more?” he muttered.

I was caught completely off guard by his question—his reaction. My eyes danced back and forth, trying to read his, to find his level of anger.
 Before I knew it, he’d lunged down at me, covering my lips with his, gripping my face to his, using his large and strong hands. He tried forcing his tongue in my mouth as I plied my mouth shut and tried to break away from his impossible clamp. I bit his lip and while he winced, Azmir didn’t let up. He was determined to have me participate in an oral embrace, but I was too angry with him. I banged my fists into his ironclad chest, trying to deter his grip, but to no avail.

He hooked my body with his right arm, gripping my ass while his left arm cradled my head like a baby. My body was tense, ready for a physical attack. I was straining against his tall and hard frame. He found his way underneath my robe to my panties and rubbed me so intently, so greedily. I was weakening from failed attempts to break from him and eventually crumpled from defeat. His tongue entered my mouth and swirled and swirled, furthering my weakened state. My breathing vocalized as he invaded my mouth and I could taste faint traces of blood ejecting from me biting his lip, but I still couldn’t stop him. He unfastened my robe and as he tried to push it off, I mustered the strength to tug it, holding it in place.
 With force, Azmir yanked my robe completely off. He lifted me in the air, forcing me into a straddling position where I could feel his strong erection on my way up to his waist. I was angry and didn’t understand his aroused state. 

“I need you, Rayna. You can’t leave me,” he forcibly whispered to me, out of breath as he walked me out into the bedroom. I pushed and screamed, dragging my chords, “No! No! You want me to need you like everyone else and I refuse.” Azmir shook his head vehemently, rejecting my summation of his crazy world. “Put me down. I’m leaving!”

He walked into the bedroom, near the bed. I was still trying to force him to ease up from his impossible grasp. He held me so tightly to his pounding chest. I could hear him closing a draw, but didn’t have the room nor energy to even turn to look. 

“Let me down, Azmir. Give me my space!”
 I squirmed in his arms.

“No. No space. Just be here with me,” he offered softly, walking back to the closet, but this time to the other doorway where he stopped underneath. I heard metal clinking above me, and when I looked, I saw the handcuffs he had used on me weeks ago. He let me down so that my feet touched the floor, but held on to me with one of his arms.

“What are you doing, Azmir? Are you crazy? Are you going to do this every time we fight?” I was horrified at the turn of events in my day. He was suddenly scaring me.

“Are you going to
run
every time we fight?” he spat back mordantly.

I couldn’t believe it when he was pulling my arms into the constraints, one by one. Once he forcibly lifted my left arm up to throw the other cuff over his pull-up bar, I knew his plan for my other hand. I tried like hell to fight him, but he was too strong, it was pointless and I
 didn’t want to risk scraping my hands against the metal. I shouted and screamed helplessly.

“Relax before you hurt yourself!” he demanded as he pushed into the last cuff to adjust it to my wrist size. He stood back and let out a deep breath. I watched as his shoulders sagged. I was winded, firing off all types of nastiness.

“Do you know how insane this is? This is all types of crazy! You think I’m going to want you after this? I’m calling the cops!” 

With my hands, I lifted myself from the bar and swung my legs aimlessly, trying to widen the distance between us. With ease, he caught my legs, one at a time and dropped to his knees, pulling my lower torso into an embrace. Here I was, with only my bra and panties, breathlessly crying my eyes out.

I didn’t possess the stamina needed to keep up my resistance. Azmir buried his face in my abdomen, breathing forcefully into my bare skin. The front of my thighs strained against his naked chest and his fraught hands where plastered to the back of them, skin to skin.
What is this?
I couldn’t fight anymore. I needed a reprieve. We stayed in that position for a while, panting hard and hearts racing until I felt his face lift and his lips trace from the side of my abdomen to the center of my belly. He started off slowly as he licked and kissed me desperately. My abdominal muscles jumped at each movement of his skilled tongue. With one hand, he began tugging at my sky-blue lace boy shorts. 

“No! No!” I was all breaths and no force behind my pleas.
 Devastated. Shattered.

That one hand managed to pull my panties off, licking maniacally at my belly. My body went from fight to acquiesce, betraying me. I went nearly limp but for the possibility of the cuffs cutting into my flesh. He freed my legs, bringing his hands up to my back, slow and steadily, caressing me. My body began convulsing. I felt him prying my legs open with little resistance; I was so exhausted from fighting, but I didn’t want intimacy. It just wasn’t right.
 

“Azmir, no! Please...stop,” I panted hoarsely.
 

Before I knew it, he lifted my hips in the air, placing them astride his broad shoulders while planting his face at the apex of my thighs. My body bowed at his deft tongue lashing each and every way until it found its way to my pearl, causing me to lose all control. Azmir’s tongue was forceful, strong in its swipes. Each lapping communicated his state of mind. He was desperate. He wouldn’t stop his oral rage. As much as I tried to will against what my body was inclined to do, I was powerless. I felt it build from within, pleasure brewing. There was something very arousing about his kneeling posture beneath me, poking and prodding at the most sensitive place on my body as his strong arms cradled me carefully. It took no time at all for my orgasm to explode inside of me and all over his face. I was struggling, trying to catch my breath from the violent orgasm that ripped through me.

Azmir pushed from his feet and rose against my body, “I love you so fucking much, Rayna. More than anything ever before in my life,” his voice was hoarse and raw, searing through my heart. He pulled up my chin, forcing his tongue in my mouth, devouring me. I could barely breathe from his primal hold. 

Azmir grabbed me again by my hips, lifting me higher in the air this time as he entered me. He took no time planting himself way deep. I maintained my grip on the bar as he plowed into me. Suddenly, I got it, he was claiming me, marking me
once again
. I was being reminded of how beautiful we are together and how much we shouldn’t be apart. And we are. Beautiful. Together. But I couldn’t take the externalities, the invasions of my world—our world. 
Tara, her baby, and father have to go!

I felt him unhook my bra and could feel my breasts bounce in the air. He pulling out all stops, proving his point. He brought one of my breasts into his mouth, sucking and licking with no particular rhythm. I pushed my lips together, trying not to give in to the overwhelming sensations of his plunges. He felt so determined and familiar as he pulled me unto him and pushed himself into me. He worked with great vigor to break me.

“Come, Rayna. Don’t fight it!” Azmir commanded through clenched teeth, sweat sprouting from his beautiful milk chocolate skin.

I shut my eyes because I didn’t want him to see the tears springing from them.

“Stop fighting it!” he growled in my ear before pulling my short hair back from the roots to raise and lick my neck. He accelerated his speed, pushing me over the edge. My eyes shot open and he pumped even faster, causing me to scream mindlessly. I’d lost majorly. To Tara and now to Azmir. My orgasm crushed every bit of resistance that I had. Azmir followed me with shaky legs and promises to love me forever. Spent and totally sated, I collapsed on his shoulder. We were motionless for some time.

From the brisk dip in air suspension I could tell he was reaching for his shorts because not too long after, he uncuffed me from the bar. I fell into his capable arms and he pulled off my loosened bra then carried me into the shower, sitting me on the bench while he turned on the water. When he walked back over to me he inspected my wrists for bruises and spewed profanities underneath his breath. I just laid there lifelessly, observing it all from an outer-body experience.

Azmir positioned my shower cap on my head then lathered my scrub with liquid soap and washed me from neck to toe. My body was still weakened and throbbed from earlier episodes, so he supported it as he rinsed me. He sat me back on the bench to quickly clean himself. After drying me off, he covered me in my white plush housecoat that hung behind the bathroom door. He carried me in his arms over to the bed, pulling the covers back and gently laying me down. He went into the closet and walked back out seconds later, wearing fresh shorts and a T-shirt.

He made his way over to the wall adjacent to the end of the bed, turned on the television and murmured, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

True to his word, Azmir returned two commercial breaks later with a tray of food. The aroma caused my stomach to growl as I lay there exhausted, fully spent, and physically and emotionally depleted. He placed the tray beside me and fed me eggplant parmesan, pasta, and merlot until I could eat no more and declined. My arms throbbed viciously from being raised over my head for so long. He lifted an eager Azna onto the bed, who quickly found his space of comfort and fell asleep. When Azmir left to discard the food tray, I realized I couldn’t take the throbbing stiffness or sleepiness anymore, so I stretched out my arms and legs, lowered myself in the bed and succumbed to siesta.

I don’t know how long after, but I could feel him slipping in the bed behind me, pulling off my housecoat and when he was done, scooting over to spoon with me. I had then realized the television was off. I slipped back into my coma, but not before feeling the trail of passionate kisses he endowed from my shoulder to my neck. I was too tired and fatigued to make sense of it.

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