Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  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 a
t 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.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  My eyes flickered open to the soft night lights of the marina casting through the curtains of the bedroom. I felt soft lugging at my body, but was too much in a fog to immediately catch on to Azmir summoning my body from sleep. He was rubbing my breasts and breathing into my neck. I looked at the clock that was straight ahead and saw it four sixteen in the morning. It seemed as though I’d just shut my eyes for the night. Seconds later, he was mounting me. My thighs opened to him instinctively. He found his way into me via his finger, making sure to awaken my canal.

  It didn’t take long as I heard, “You’re so wet…so ready.”

  He pushed himself inside of me, communicating his regrets and apologies. It was like slicing through smooth butter, my body had just welcomed him in despite the late hour. My stomach spasms started from the unrelenting pleasure of his lazy thrusts. His stride was strong, slow, and purposeful. Even at the inconvenient hour, he took his time working me. His pulls were gentle, his plunges less. His ragged breathing was rhythmic in my ear and his grasp of my torso was needy. Azmir was making love, meek and gentle. His body trembled with trepidation at every plunge. He was afraid. Frantic, even over his thrust.

  Out of nowhere, I began to cry again. The tears wouldn’t stop. He felt so good on top of me, pushing his love inside of mine, trying to once again become one with me. He commanded my body from scent alone, but this… We were so connected. In and out, in and out…he stroked me gently with his elbows buried in the mattress aside my ears. Azmir’s tongue chartered my mouth hungrily as if on a mission. He made sweet love to me as I lay beneath him, bruised and vulnerable. It not only stimulated my body, but it also sent my mind on a flight.

  All this time, I felt that he was leading me on my journey of self-discovery and motivating me to seek out my purpose and push my demons behind me. But in that moment, I felt that I didn’t know who guided who—who was sent to help who. I’m not sure it mattered because I knew I needed him. I needed him just as he professed needing me. I had no where to go. Yes, I’d had my home that was now occupied by his mother, but it wouldn’t have been any more of a home had it still been vacant. Azmir was where my home was. More than the abundance of space this apartment provided, he was every bit of the substance that made it a home—my home.

  I still didn’t get it all. I was still confused about so much, but one thing was for sure and that was my incredible, magnetic, and most powerful connection to this man. I felt it in my heart, and somehow in my body, as he penetrated me. My legs started to stiffen.

  “I feel it, too,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear, excitedly. “Please don’t fight it. I need to feel connected to you. I need you with me. Come with me like you love to do.”

  Azmir’s invitation was so heady and difficult to resist. My previous tears of confusion turned into that of bliss as I felt the growing detonation in my belly and came all around him. He spilled into me, potently. Hot, virile, translucent liquids squirted, invading my womb. Azmir’s chest beat violently against mine as his silken skin lay dank against to mine. His body shuddered over me, not withholding any emotion or sensation he felt as he climaxed hard. He relaxed his six foot four inch frame on top of me, not wanting to break our enfold. Azmir’s desires didn’t need to be communicated using words. I knew he was begging me not to leave him over this recent discovery. To be with him forever.

 
; When my alarm went off a few hours later, Azmir lay splayed, partially on top of me as I lay on my stomach. He was so possessive and insecure in his subconscious. I reached over to turn off the clock and proceeded out of bed to start my day when I caught a glimpse of the glare from my hand. I squinted my eyes at my engagement ring. He must have slipped it back on while I was asleep.

  Azmir was making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want a break, or interruption of our relationship. I looked over to him, surreptitiously stealing a view at his sleeping profile. Azmir was gorgeous even in his sleep. His position resembled a male model on the cover of a magazine. It was difficult at times to believe his pulchritude, it was remarkable. Then when you factor in his physique and stature, he was damn near unbelievable. Could I maintain this man? He could have any woman he wanted, but he was here petitioning my lifelong commitment. A pang ran through my belly, forcing me to retreat to the bathroom.

  In the vanity mirror, I observed the bags underneath my reddened eyes as I stood there taking inventory of all the reasons I should have called out of work for the day. When I tried pulling at my skin to stretch the bags, I noticed the sadistic bruising on my wrists. What in the?!

  Those handcuffs.

  Azmir’s brutal handling of me.

  My unrelenting combativeness.

  Our chemistry.

  It made me question what Azmir and I were doing in our relationship. I learned that he was financially supplying the welfare of his ex-girlfriend and her child, I reacted to it and somehow woke up to bruised wrists and a sore body, feeling pain—inside and out. My god, even the sex was violent.

  After finishing up, washing, and applying much needed make-up, I went into the walk-in closet and picked up my phone to text Tyler. I had to cancel my workout session with him. There was no way I could explain the bruising and my overall feeble state.

  I stood in the closet in a black midi skirt that I thought would be easy to pair a top with. I frantically searched for a long-sleeved blouse to match that wasn’t too formal for work-wear. My unbearable frustration was nearing again from last night when Azmir walked up on me. His appearance, vast, masculine stature always caused my breath to stagger. He was bare from the waist up, wearing his black basketball shorts and black ankle socks, sipping a cup of coffee with one hand and handing me two jewelry boxes with the other.