Caged Nightingale

Part 12- saara

I sit on the edge of the bath tub with my head in my hands. OMG. I want him. I want a virtual stranger. I have no control over myself.

I can try and hide from him, try and lie to him, not very well albeit-the truth is: I can't lie to myself. The sexual tension out there in the garden was insane. How have things escalated so quickly. So suddenly. He barely looks at me when he talks and then he suddenly turns his 10 000 watt attention on me and acts like he can't resist me. My head is spinning. What bothers me is how easily he did  it. Even with my anger at his insinuation of being indebted to him, i couldn't help be drawn in. I hate myself. My own weakness is an embarrassing revelation to me.

Is it just physcial? I must be attracted to his body; all those toned muscles. Broad chest, tapered waste, and long lean legs. A body made for sin. He's tall, dark, handsome; A man of mystery. He has the face of a Greek god. Chiselled with harsh angles. Those black eyes that you could fall into. A bit of a bad boy. Perhaps that's it.
But another part of my brain knows that the vulnerability in me is responding to the dominance in him. He wants me and I want to be wanted. It doesn't stop me feeling alarmed at my own recklessness. This is crazy. He is ruthless and calculated and I've let myself believe otherwise or worse- a part of me just doesn't care. When he touched me, i swear my brain just stopped working.

I think about his expression, his words: Ayla, he called me Ayla! I'm not even sure how to process that. Ayla is dead, make believe, not real. yet he called me by her name. The audacity! There is something alarming about it. As if he could be trying to make this farce real.

'I'm going to make you want me" he had said. again I feel my breath become short at just the thought of him touching me, it excites me and mortifys me at the same time.
I won't deny he's good looking, thats for sure, but not my type. Where Asim was sweet, kind, open, gentle- a gentleman! Atif has a more dark, brooding look to him, everything about him hints at a danger lurking just beneath the vaneer. More like the devil himself. Perhaps its been too long since i was touched by any man. 5 years since Asim died. Its just a primitive desire that he's awakening in me.
Even now, the darkness in his eyes, The fire that had burned in his gaze makes my pulse race. It had been predatory and there was no doubt i was caught in his sight. The silk of his words had cascaded over me so effortlessly. My god he's a genius. The slow, drawling timber of his voice had been intoxicating.

I am beyond help. I splash cold water on my face and crawl into bed trying to switch off my mind from all its excited buzzing.
But even in the darkness, under the cool humming of the air conditioner, i can still feel the heat of his gaze and silent promise that i will submit to him willingly.

Sometime in the night i awaken.
I don't know what it is that has stirred me from my slumber but i lay there listening to the hymn of the air con and gentle thumping and clicking of the fan overhead. trying to open my eyes and focus them. Habituate them to the darkness. I turn onto my side and then reach out my fingers cautiously to the other side of the bed. They meet a solid warm, wall of skin and i immediately gasp, pulling my hand back, only to have it taken by force, till i am pulled across the bed. Face to face with the only person i know i can't resist. He is shirtless and i feel heat radiating from him.
In the darkness i can't see his face, but i can smell the earthy vanilla of his oud and hear his breathing.
" what are you doing in here? -Get out!" I say in a low firm tone willing my voice to embody some form of resolve. I try to yank my hand away from him again, only to have it pulled more firmly in his vice like grip.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He says from the darkness. Then to show me his own control. He waits for me to stop struggling, before he slowly releases my wrist.
"I won't touch you unless you ask me to. " He says without any emotion.
I can't see his face, but i know he's telling the truth. The shock and panic of seeing him are beginning to subside. I try to even out my breathing and ignore the heat radiating from his chest.
"Then why are you here?" I say.
" because its our wedding night and it would be more noticeable if i wasn't." Ofcourse his reasoning makes sense I concede.
We lie like that, facing each other in the darkness for a few more moments.
" you frightened me" i say, mirroring his tone.
" I'm not going to hurt you Saara' he repeats. i feel him move closer, till i feel his breath on my face. I literally stop breathing as i realise I'm waiting for him to reach out and touch me. he doesn't. Instead the air charges between us. At this distance, its a surprise i dont combust.
' I won't lie to you either." He says.
" you called me Ayla!" I say half scoffing but inwardly hating the way the words sound like an accusation. I want to try and maintain an air of indifference, especially in the darkness, where my face won't betray me.
" you need to get used to hearing it!" He says and again i find my mind agreeing- ofcourse. It's infuriating but completely understandable-when he says it like that. I'm not giving him the benefit of doubt. I'm ready to think the worst of him and his intentions but what he's saying is reasonable.
Again the silence sits between us, i resist the urge to reach out and trace his features with my fingers. There is something inexplicable about his pull on me. Or maybe I want him to reach out and touch me. I lie there trying to remind myself how to breath. Under the cloak of darkness i feel more reckless. All bets are off-i try to tell myself.
" i want you" he says and the words hang in the air between us. "I have since the first time i saw you."
My heart thrums in my chest uncontrollable as my mind tries and fails to comprehend his words. His declaration is honest and open and yet incongruent to everything else about him. He is mystery personified and yet he says something so bizarre I feel caught off guard. "Why?" I whisper. "You don't even know me!"
"Why do you want me?" He replies. I think about his words before saying anything. Its true, i do want him, i acknowledge. But i also know its going to be a mistake on a magnitude i can't imagine. What alarms me is that he can see it so clearly and is calling me out on it so openly.
" i dont even know you" i say and cringe at my own words. They sound lame even to my own ears. This chemistry between us- its not logical or emotional its visceral. Purely physical. A hedonistic nightmare.
Again the silence settles between us as i silently curse myself. I lack guile and should have said nothing, instead I've opened myself up to him.
"You're right.' He says eventually. 'That's why i said I'm going to wait for you to want me.' He moves in even further till I'm sure his lips are millimeters from mine '-and you will.' He says it with such confidence, i think he must already know my heart has stopped beating and he already has me at his mercy. 'You are not a prisoner here Saara, you can leave whenever you want to, no one will stop you. I mean what i said, you have my word, i won't hurt you . . . . and i won't let anyone hurt you. But in return you have to give me a chance."
I know then without a shadow of a doubt he's telling me the truth.
He sighs "If i wanted, I could have you, right now. And i know you won't resist me.' he touches my shoulder and lets a finger trail over the edge. 'I know because I can smell your desire.' he says and I cringe inwards. In the darkness I blush, feel the heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks. 'I want more.' He says sighing and then turns onto his back. After a few moments, I hear his breathing even out and I know he's asleep.

In the darkness i touch my wrist, then my shoulder, i can still feel the fire from his touch as if he's branded me.