Page 53 of The Unwanted Husband
Then reality crashed back, and something shifted in her expression. There was relief, maybe, or something dangerously close to gratitude. Her expression shook him to the core and he could not figure out why.
In that moment he knew he would do anything for her to not look so shaken up. Every other time he had woken her up in the middle of the night to her cries, she had not looked at him like she did that night.
It shook him to the core and he knew he was fucked!
*****
The moment his fingers touched her forehead, reality crashed back with startling clarity. She wasn’t escaping from a nightmare like the other nights, she was being pulled from the most vivid, intense dream she’d ever had. A dream where his hands had been everywhere, where his mouth had been doing things that made her arch and cry out his name.
Did he hear her scream his name?
And there he was, real and solid and close enough that she could smell his familiar scent, his concerned eyes searching her face in the darkness. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
“You okay?” he murmured, his thumb unconsciously stroking her face. “It’s just a bad dream.”
If only he knew.
Her skin was still hypersensitive from the dream, and his innocent touch sent aftershocks through her body. She was acutely aware of how thin her nightgown was, how the sheets had twisted around her legs, how her breathing was still uneven, but this time not from fear, but something stronger.
“I…I’m okay,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself lean into his touch, watching as his pupils dilated slightly in response. “Thank you.”
His hand stilled on her face, and she could see the exact moment awareness flickered across his features. The way his gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, taking in her flushed skin and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
“You’re still shaking,” he said, his voice rougher and uncertain.
She was. But not from the dream but from having him so close, from the way his presence made her body remember every phantom touch from her subconscious.
“Stay,” she managed to stay, her throat dry as her fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Please.”
She saw the war playing out across his face as he weighed in compassion versus desire, logic against instinct. His eyes kept drifting to where her nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, and she made no move to fix it.
“Sleep,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction, and he made no move to pull away.
“Can you please stay?” she asked softly.
The question hung between them in the thickening air. She could feel his pulse hammering beneath her fingertips, and she could see the way his breathing had become ragged. All she had to do was pull him down to her, and this maddening tension between them would finally find its release, once in for all.
“Just for a bit,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. “Until I fall back asleep.” She was desperate to be near him.
He nodded and started to get up to sit on the chair by the bed like the other times but she pulled on his wrist.
“Stay,” her voice was insistent, more breathless than she intended. “Close to me.”
He froze, his eyes searching her face in the dim light but he didn’t move.
“Please.” The word came out softer, more vulnerable than she’d planned.
Isha saw the exact moment his resolve wavered, the way his jaw clenched as he fought some internal battle. Finally, he exhaled slowly and sat at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
But that wasn’t close enough. Not nearly close enough.
She shifted over, making room for him, her eyes never leaving his. “You can sleep on this side.”
After another long moment, he nodded before he stretched out beside her, careful to maintain distance. But she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and could hear the careful control in his breath. The space between them felt charged like every time, electrifying.
She turned on her side to face him. In the darkness, she could see the tension in his profile.
“Thank you,” she whispered, before closing her eyes as if to suppress the growing tension between them. It was the closest he had gotten in days since the night they went out to dinner.
