Page 19

On their way back, he clutched Tara's hand hard in his and kept dragging her behind him.

From time to time, he kept looking at her covered face. But he could tell she was worried about what had gotten into him suddenly.

She stumbled in between. He cursed in his mind for being so desperate to have no control over himself. He slowed down to match her speed of walking.

The night was still young, and the sun had not set. However, the lamps were lit inside the mansion. More lights were on than usual.

The ancient Arabic music inside the mension was telling another story. Most likely, they were guests of Bahman. But what were they doing at this hour? He thought.

Right now, he didn't want to waste any time. He was on the verge of losing himself. He wanted to kiss her senselessly.

Oman looked at Tara. Sucking in his breath, he released her hand. With his eyes, he motioned for her to follow behind him.

She blinked several times.

Why so grumpy. Was it because she asked for juice?

Since then, he has behaved like a barbarian. Dragging her like a sack of potatoes Her feet were already sour.

She pouted beneath her veil and followed him while stomping her foot on neatly laid tiles.

They entered a corridor that led to their room. But he saw Sujain coming from the other side of the corridor, which made his mood foul, and he didn't miss the chance to see Sujain eyeing Tara.

Thank goodness she was already covered. or else he had blown a punch in his face.

"Where were you, uncle?" Sujain asked, coming toward them.

"Go inside," face as neutral as always he told her in commanding tone.

His tone made her look between them. Without wasting any time, she headed into their room.

Oman looked at the disappearing figure of Tara and then turned to him.

"What's the occasion today?" he asked, ignoring the question asked by Sujain.

He shook his head, looking at his hard face.

"Today's my birthday," he said while smirking.

"Oh, it's a great day for you then. May Allah look upon you with favour and provide you endless joy throughout your life."

"Thank you, uncle," Sujain said while he took Oman's hand, kissed it, and touched it to his forehead.

Oman's lips curled upward. He appreciated Sujain for being a gentleman. But still, he didn't like his eyes on Tara. That's the only thing that bothered him.

"Come on, celebrate with us."

"Of course not; I am tired," he said, looking into space and avoiding his gaze.

"Why are you so desperate?"

Oman's hands clenched in fists but he didn't once let the emotion rule his face.

Sujain rubbed his thumb across his jaw as if he had figured out what was on his mind.

A flash of something passed over Sujain's face. It was so quick that he barely registered it.

He wanted to know what he would do to her behind those closed doors.

Why did she marry such an evil man? Men like him only knew how to use females. It's not like he loves her. He clearly remembered him as a womanizer. Sujain doubted that he was only playing with her innocence, as he was always more into brave women. But Tara.

She was the opposite-a scared rabbit.

He didn't deserve her. He felt an unreal feeling of anguish toward Oman. His hatred for him reached its peak. Perhaps it was all because of Tara.

He knew it was a one-sided only from his side. He was seeking just one chance with her. He could give her everything she

wanted or even more than Oman could afford.

The next words of Oman made his blood boil.

"Yes, I am. So," Oman blurted.

Sujain looked away and clicked his tongue.

"She doesn't like you" venom pouring in his words.

There was no mistaking the anger, which froze Oman's face into rigid lines. His eyes were cold, too, glinting like chips of amber.

Fuck you, Sujain.

Now he wanted his blessings back.

He moved closer to Sujain. His face was blank, but those dark eyes gave a glimpse of the animal purring inside him.

"I know you have an eye on my wife. Stay within your limits. Or else you don't know what I am capable of," his quiet tone was laced with menace and deadness, as he gritted his teeth.

"Let her choose once. You will see it yourself."

The ends of Oman's lips turned upward in the saddest, knowing smile.

Perhaps he was right. A man like him doesn't deserve her. But that doesn't stop his selfishness. She was his, and he clearly knew she also felt the same for him.

"Stay away from her. This is my warning to you," he said, hovering over his frame.

"Enjoy your night," Sujain said while walking away from him.

He stayed glued to the same place. His fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Sujain wasn't aware of his wrath yet, for setting his eyes on Tara. Stealing what was already his was a terrible move. He would kill him if he even tried to touch her.

Oman had a doubt in his head regarding his father's intentions, but so far no harm had been committed, so he decided to keep a personal watch over them just in case they tried to do something against him.

But who he was kidding, Bahman was not a person you would call a friend.

Now he knew what to do next.

With sharply pointed eyes, he went into his room and locked the door securely behind him. When his eyes inspected the room, and she wasn't there.

He walked into the adjacent room to check on her, and there she was changing into her nightgown. His eyes ran over her figure. He frowned.

"Who gave you this?" His sudden voice frightened her.

"Oman," she said, placing her hand on her chest. She had a mini-heart attack.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Azadeh gave this to me. Because i didn't have enough clothes. You like it," she spun, showing her light green caftan.

Yup. It's beautiful. but not more than her.

"Let me check," he said while swiftly moving to her.

He pulled her towards him, his hands slipping on her shoulders, feeling the delicate blades sharp beneath her flesh as he wrapped his arm more firmly around her.

He leaned over and placed his head in the crook of her neck.

"So beautiful"

His mouth followed the length of her neck, placing feathering kisses like whispers, twining his hands through her open hair, and pulling as gently as he could manage.

He pulled her up, securing his hand around her thin waist. Her feet were in the air. Her breath hitched with the sudden act

"You are only mine." He possessively said. Their lips were inches apart.

She was shocked to see him like this. What happened to him? He was behaving so strangely lately.

"Oman." The word wrapped itself around him as Tara's arms twined around his neck, and he was lost.

He took her toward their bed and placed her gently on it. His feet were on ground and his half body hovered on her.

She looked into his eyes and smiled.

"Touch me," he said, breathing out.

She looked at him with confusion and finally did what he told her.

She placed her hand on his jaw tenderly. The desire arises in her to erase his lines of fatigue and ease the tension she can see in his shoulders.

She started at his shoulders, where the tension knotted his muscles together. At first, her touch was experimental.

Her eyes followed where her slim hands moved. She started feeling the heat at the tips of her fingers.

Unconsciously, in a fraction of a second, her eyes landed on his smug face. He looked so engrossed in her touch.

She pulled him onto the bed and sat in his lap. She kissed his cheek.

She initiated. His heart swelled with so much love. It was

something he never felt before.

Love

He couldn't describe what was happening to him.

Was it really happening to him? He was in a daze. The veins on his neck stood out, so bunched tight were his shoulders.

The only thing that kept him from pouncing at her was the control he practised for years.

It was just a lame excuse.

He would take her if she would not be frightened of their intimacy.

He could feel the heat emanating from her skin and the feathering of her breath on his face. He surrendered to the supple kneading of her fingers on his chest.

"Enough?" she said, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"No, do it more," he grabbed her hand..

"Then let me see what is there," she said, pointing at his midriff.

She looked up and saw that his eyes were wide.

"I know you are hiding something there."

"You are crazy," he said, pushing her away.

"Oman, let me see," she thumped on his chest lightly.

"Are you doing it intentionally?" He briefly looked at her expressions.

"I want to know. What you were doing that night," she said, looking dead in his eyes.

The look in her eyes told that she considered him a murderer. What a murdered

What did that pretty head think he was hiding-some kind of weapon? Yes, he had a weapon. but it was used for something else.

He scolded his mind.

After a few seconds, he murmured, "Ok, but I will only let you touch it."

Her eyes were curious.

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No baby. It's go...good"

No. It's naughty

He took her hand in his; he could feel the shiver of her hand.

"There's nothing to be frightened of," his voice was a little bit raspy.

She nodded, but she kept her eyes on his midriff.

What he had gotten himself into. He cursed himself in his breath and placed her hand on his clothed shaft.

Her expressions were unreadable. She traced it with her fingers and then grabbed it, making him shocked.

"Aaaahhhhh," she screamed, backing away from him.

"There's a rat," she said, pointing.

What the fuck.

Her two hands were on her chest.

"No, no, no," he tried grabbing her when she ran toward the door while screaming at the top of her lungs.