betrayal (2)

helloo lovely readers! i'll be posting a part each day or more!, no editing just writing and posting so excuse the typos and well enjoy! I stretched luxuriously on the soft sheets. I could hear the shower running in our suit's bathroom.I blushed all over, recollecting last night's...occurences. He was too good, too loving and beautiful and I was sore all over. The idea of joining him in the shower was too tempting but I was still too shy and timid to initiate anything. I heaved a sigh of contentment and shut my eyes. A moment later he emerged from the bathroom, all wet dishevellment and glistening beauty. I gulped. I had yet to get used to his physical beauty. "Hi" I said, my cheeks coloring. "hi" He said without looking at me and headed to the vanity table. Should I say something? Should'nt be? I mean we did all these things yesterday,and there he was all brooding and queit. I was lost. what were the rules? " I'll take a shower" I blurted out and stormed off to the bathroom. fifteen minutes later I was back to the room, and he wasn't there. No phone, no car keys. Where was he? Maybe he was getting things ready for tonight. we were supposed to travel to our honeymoon tonight. The idea distracted me a bit, I was going to have to get all ready and rested for the long flight. I dialled his number and waited. nothing. I dialled three more times and when he didn't pick up I went to do my hair, color my nails and get my stuff ready. three hours later my phone beeped. A text from him, finally! " work" one word, no apologies, no endearments. something was amiss. " 3asak 3l gowwa honey, waiting for you" I texted back. no reply. I spent the rest of the day, watching tv and just lounging on the bed, texting my friends and sister. The fact that my husband dissapeared on our first official day as married couple was alarming, but I didn't pay attention at the time. I was a simple woman. Marriage for me meant love and respect. That was how my parents were together, my sister and her husband...how was I supposed to know? I stirred from a delicious slumber, when I heard clicking, the door knob turning. He was back. it was 9 pm. " hey stranger" I said smiling, my voice sleep filled. "hi" He said, no smiles. "are you okay?" I asked. it was getting ridiculous, were was the warm, loving Mubarak from yesterday and the months before? He nodded absently reaching for his phone. " Is..is there something wrong with work?" I tried. He held a finger up as to shush me. What the hell?!!! " Mubarak?" I was heating up, this wasn't normal! " I said I was fine!" He snapped, got up and into the small living room and slammed the door. He slammed the door on my face!! Tightness gathered at the back of my throat. I felt sick, he never talked to me like that. We were engaged for six months , never. I needed to talk to someone. Anyone, mother. yes she'd know what's wrong. she always does. But I didn't want to worry her. We were supposed to leave to the airport in two hours, I needed to figure this out alone. I brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, and went to the living room. I had to talk to him. calmly and rationaly, yes. I took a deep breath and opened the closed door. I found him fast asleep on the leather sofa. His phone on the small round table right next to the sofa. His phone. Could I? no, no, Shaikha, no! but the voice in my head was rudely ignored as my trembling hand reached for the iphone on the table. it wasn't locked. My heart beating wildly on my chest, I opened his texts. I was going to die. this is it. I thought as I trembled all over, nausea and giddiness taking over my small frame. Yet I couldn't stop scrolling down and reading, and reading and dying. I could hear my heart breaking, I swear I could hear it. A hot, fat tear slid down my cheek. and then another. I wasn't aware of anything but the words slicing through my heart. And then something possesed me to open his gallery file, and I saw it. I saw them. A picture of her, the one he texts. The one he loves! So unlike me, his wife. so unlike my fine dirty blonde hair, fair skin and petite body. So unlike the body I worked for ever since I was 6. I was a dancer for god's sake, a ballerina, and I knew I had it. She was curvy, her arms kind of plumped. Her black hair thick and layered,framing her average face. Average. nothing special. and he loved her. My gorgeous husband loved her. To be continued..

betrayal (1)

Never, not even in my wildest dreams I imagined ending up with someone like him. He was too beautiful. the Kind of beautiful you see in Tom Ford ads. Heartbreaking gorgeousness in everyone's standards. Too beautiful, it was ridiculous.  The thick black hair, intense eyes, those eyebrows, full kissable lips,killer cheekbones and that body, and his height. Damn hishheight he was 196 cms, a giant. A beautiful big man who was bound to me legally, nothing more nothing less. My beautiful husband who was still in love with a ghost.

I remember falling in love with him the instance our eyes met.  the day they came to our house to ask for my hand. A good wealthy family, a golden boy. I couldn't say No. And I never imagined the famous 31 year old mubarak to be this beautiful. I was 25, an eager, full of life light haired small woman. I received a healthy amount of male attention and I never fell in love, never been in a real relationship. Until him.

He was polite, pleasant enough and I was aready a goner.

Our families clicked, he wanted me to be his wife and I was over the moon.

I remember our engagement days clearly, he was quite the gentelman, taking me out to fancy restaurants, buying me Jewelery and flowers and chocolate, phonecalls every night, it was perfect. At least I thought it was, I just was never experienced with men. Sometimes he would be away for days, No texts No visits and then he'd call, apologize that work was overwhelming him and I'd forgive him easily, "just promise me you'll never stay away once we're married" I'd say coyly. And it 'd be soon forgotten.

Until our wedding night. It was the worst night of entire life. It still hurts like a motherfucker thinking about it. I was head over heels in love with my new husband. How could I not be? He was a dream come true, gorgeous, rich, good. Everything I've ever wished for and more.

He towered over me in the hotel room, so tall, so powerful it made me feel small, vulnerable and extremely aroused. I needed to touch him.

"You're so small" he said softly and reached for me hand. "I want to take your heels off"

I blushed, my heart beating loudly against my rib cage. I nodded.


He splayed his strong fingers against my waist and held me firmly, reaching for my leg withhhis other hand, he slid the bridal sparkly shoe off my foot and threw it on the carpeted ground, then the next. I stood before him. Five foot two inches, too small I had to look up and up and up to see his face. He touched my cheek lightly "beautiful " he murmured.

At this point my breath was becoming too shallow, legs barely holding me, he had that effect on me since the beginning. making me all hot and bothered and ready for him.  He scooped me up easily and carried me to the four poster bed. Lied me gently and began kissing me, torturously slow, I was clueless. A stupid child bride, that How i felt. his expert tongue probing my mouth, he nipped me, licked and sucked and I moaned. God, it was so good, too much I couldn't breathe. What was he doing to me, I was hot too hot, all over I needed more. He kissed me harder, deeper, murmuring words of praise, words I couldn't catch and it didn't matter as long as he didnt break the kiss. Next came my clothes, and his.   He kissed my neck, a sensitive spot that drove me wild, and then he moved lower and lower..he did something so scandalous, so good I thought I was going to die with ecstasy...

I instinctively grabbed his hair, driving us both wild until I had my first shattering moment of pure, raw pleasure. The night was filled of similar, hotter activities until we both collapsed in the soft, white bed.

I woke up the next morning alone.

To be continued..