Chapter 23 - Abram
My heart pounds as I stand in the dimly lit gallery, surrounded by the soft glow of candles and the sweet scent of roses. Everything must be perfect for Zara. I adjust a bouquet, my hands trembling slightly. "Get it together, Abram," I mutter to myself. "You've faced down men holding guns to your forehead."
But this —this is different. This is Zara, and everything has to be perfect.
I pace the length of the room, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The paintings on the walls seem to watch me, judging my every move. I stop in front of a large mirror, straightening my tie for the hundredth time. The man staring back at me looks like a trembling man in love, desperate to make things right.
A text message buzzes on my phone. It's from my security team. "She's arriving now, Boss."
My breath catches in my throat. This is it. I position myself near the entrance, rehearsing my words one last time. The door creaks open, and there she is—my Zara, silhouetted against the moonlight. She steps inside, her eyes wide as she takes in the transformed space.
"Abram?" Her voice is soft, questioning. "What is all this?"
I drink in the sight of her, my chest tightening with emotion. "Welcome, moya lyubov," I say— my love —extending my hand.
I take Zara's delicate hand in mine, noting how soft her skin feels against my calloused hand. The contrast between us has always been stark—her innocence against my darkness. Yet somehow, we fit.
"Come with me," I murmur, gently tugging her deeper into the gallery. “Trust me.”
As we move forward, motion sensors trigger the lighting, bathing our path in a warm, ethereal glow. Zara gasps softly, her eyes widening as each new section of the gallery reveals itself.
"It's… magical," she whispers, her gaze darting from painting to painting.
I can't take my eyes off her.
We pause before a large canvas, swirls of blue and gold reminiscent of a starry night. I can feel Zara's pulse quicken beneath my fingertips as I hold her hands. Her breath comes in short, rapid bursts, and I can see the mix of anticipation and nervousness dancing in her eyes.
She suspects something, I'm sure of it. She’s always been perceptive.
"Abram," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "What's going on?"
I smile mysteriously, guiding her forward. "Patience, my love. We're almost there."
We stop beneath an ornate crystal chandelier, its facets catching and refracting the light around us. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next.
"Close your eyes," I murmur.
Zara hesitates for a moment, then complies. I press a button on a hidden remote in my pocket, and suddenly, the air is filled with a gentle shower of rose petals. They cascade down from above, brushing against our skin like soft kisses.
Zara's eyes fly open, and she lets out a delighted squeal. "Oh my God! Abram!" She claps her hands in excitement, twirling in place as the petals rain down around her. Her joy is infectious, and I find myself grinning like a fool.
As she turns back to me, our eyes lock. The moment has arrived. I take her hands once more, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it.
"Zara," I begin, my voice thick with emotion. "You came into my life like a whirlwind, turning everything upside down. And I've never been more grateful for anything in my life…"
My words flow from my heart, painting a vivid picture of our future together. "Zara, my love, you've shown me a world I never knew existed. A world filled with light, laughter, and unimaginable joy. With you, I've learned to see beauty in the smallest things, to cherish every moment."
I watch as Zara listens intently, her eyes wide and luminous. Her emotions seem to swirl within them like a tempest—hope, love, excitement.
"I see us building a life together," I continue, my voice growing stronger with each word. "A home filled with warmth and joy. I see us facing challenges hand in hand, celebrating our victories, big and small. I see us growing old together, still as madly in love as we are now, with a handful of grandkids to keep us on our toes."
Zara's breath catches, and I notice her eyes beginning to glisten. My heart swells at the sight, knowing my words are reaching her very soul.
"You've awakened parts of me I thought long dead," I confess, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You've shown me that even a man like me, with my dark past and darker deeds, can find redemption in love. You are my light, my salvation, my everything. You make me be a better man."
A single tear escapes, trailing down Zara's cheek. I reach out, gently brushing it away with my thumb. "My beautiful Zara," I murmur. "You've given me a future I never dared to dream of. And I promise you, I will spend every day of the rest of our lives ensuring you never regret choosing me."
As I gaze into her eyes, I see them well up with more tears. But these aren't tears of sorrow—no, her face is radiant with love, her heart clearly bursting with emotion.
My hand trembles slightly as I reach into my pocket, fingers closing around a new velvet box. I drop to one knee, my eyes never leaving Zara's face.
"Zara," I begin, my voice thick with emotion. "I know I've asked this before, but I want to do it right this time."
I open the box, revealing the ring I've chosen for her—a stunning emerald surrounded by diamonds, as unique and precious as she is. "Will you marry me, again? Will you be my wife, my partner, the mother of our child, and the queen of my empire?"
Zara's breath catches audibly, her eyes widening as she stares at me. I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremble of her lips. For a heart-stopping moment, I wonder if I've miscalculated, if this grand gesture is too much of a show for her.
"Abram, I…" she starts, her voice barely above a whisper.
A tear slides down her cheek, then another. My heart races, a mix of hope and fear coursing through my veins. And then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, a smile spreads across her face.
She nods, tears now flowing freely. "Yes," she whispers, her voice growing stronger with each word. "Yes, Abram. I'll marry you again . I'll be your wife, your partner, everything."
Relief and joy flood through me, so intense I feel lightheaded. "Yes?" I repeat, needing to hear it again.
"Yes," she says, louder this time, a laugh bubbling up through her tears. "A thousand times, yes."
With trembling hands, I take the ring from its velvet nest. The room seems to glow, bathing us in a soft, ethereal light as I slip the diamond onto Zara's delicate finger. It fits perfectly, just as I knew it would.
"It's beautiful," Zara whispers, her eyes fixed on the sparkling stone.
"Not half as beautiful as you," I murmur, bringing her hand to my lips and placing a reverent kiss on her knuckles.
The air around us shifts, charged with an electric current, something deeper, more primal. I rise to my feet, never breaking eye contact with Zara. Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing is shallow.
"Abram," she breathes, and it's both a question and an invitation.
I can't hold back any longer. I pull her into my arms, one hand cradling the back of her head as I claim her lips in a sweet, hot kiss. She melts against me, her body molding to mine as if we were two halves of a whole, finally reunited.
The taste of her, the feel of her soft curves pressed against me, ignites a fire in my blood. I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring the sweet recesses of her mouth. Zara responds with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me close.
When we finally break apart, both gasping for air, I rest my forehead against hers. "I love you," I say, my voice rough with emotion. "More than anything in this world."
Zara's eyes, dark with desire, meet mine. "Show me," she whispers.
My hands roam Zara's body, fingers tracing the curves I've memorized but never tire of exploring. With trembling hands, I unzip her dress, letting it pool at her feet. She shivers, goosebumps rising on her exposed skin.
"Cold?" I ask, my voice husky with desire.
Zara shakes her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. "No…"
I growl low in my throat, the sound more animal than human. Her deft fingers find my shirt, and she clutches the lapel as I unbutton the ones at the bottom, which she forgot about in her frenzy. My shirt joins her dress on the floor, followed quickly by my belt and trousers.
I step back for a second. She steps toward me, but I step back again. She frowns, curious.
“I want to see you,” I explain, and slowly circle her. She stands there, her hands clutched together in front of her, and I marvel at her, the finest creation in the museum. Her legs are long, her thighs strong and firm. Her ass curves outward in a perfect wave, as though a sculptor chiseled it out himself, and the creaminess of her breasts is a beautiful composition against the pale pink of her bra.
I step closer from behind, wrapping my arms around her stomach, leaning into her shoulder. “You’re magnificent,” I whisper in her ear. I watch the hair on her back turn into little goosebumps, her breath coming out in short, ragged motions.
And then, I lift her up in my arms, taking her by surprise. She giggles as I lead her to a plush carpet, our bodies intertwining as naturally as breathing.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, drinking in the sight of her. My fingers trail along her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts. "Every inch of you is perfect."
Zara arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Abram, please…"
I trace the curve of her hip, marveling at the softness of her skin. "You just agreed to marry me, Darling. I want to savor this moment."
My touch is gentle yet reverent. This, right here, is becoming a core memory I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. I lean over her, place my arms on the carpet on either side of her face, and bend down to kiss her slowly. Then, I inch my lips downward, a small nip on her neck that makes her jolt, a small lick along the curve of her breast that makes her moan, a small blow of air on her naval that makes her writhe, until at last, I’m at the elastic of her panties.
I position my fingers and thumb through the band, gliding down her panties at a painstakingly slow pace. She lifts her hips in the air, ushering me to hurry, but I take my own sweet spot.
“God damn, Abram,” she chides, biting her lower lip. “You’re torturing me…”
“Good,” I laugh, and finally have the panties removed.
I trail kisses along the inside of her thighs, feeling her shiver under me as I make my way to her apex. My fingers trace delicate patterns on her inner thighs, grazing the soft skin. Her hips buck slightly, arching toward my touch.
"Abram," she whispers, her voice shaky with emotion and desire. "Please."
I smile against her soft skin, my fingers finally gliding upward, parting the folds that are slick with her desire. I look up. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she watches me consume her with my gaze.
Her skin is warm under my fingertips, silken and smooth like heated satin. I slowly enter her, feeling the tightness give way as she takes me in. Her eyes never leave mine; her breath hitches as I fill her up. "Abram," she moans, her hands clutching at the carpet beneath her.
I lean down, taking my tongue to the landing of her pussy. I glide my tongue along her slit, my fingers still in, until I reach her clit. Then, in small, firm circles, I dab at her clit, over and over again, all the while my finger makes figure eights inside her.
I feel the muscles of her pussy clench and release, as she finds the right spot for my fingers. I curve my fingers a little, and suddenly, her hips buck, her hands reach for my hair.
“Right there,” she mewls. “Right there, please…”
I don’t move an inch, my tongue tapping her pleasure point rapidly, my fingers curved just right as I hit north of her vaginal walls.
I can feel her climax build; her breath hitches, and her body tenses under mine. Her hips buck wildly as she cries out, "Yes! Yes!"
I don't stop until I feel her shudder beneath me. Until I feel her come undone completely, until she's breathless and spent. Only then do I pull away, a small smile playing on my lips as I kneel above her.
"You are even more beautiful when you come," I murmur, brushing a lock of hair from her face. She looks at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and full of love.
"Abram," she whispers, reaching for me. "I love you so much."
"And I, you," I say, leaning down to kiss her softly. Our lips brush gently against each other, and I slowly position myself above her.
I slide my hand down between her legs and part them. She smiles slowly, lazily, savoring the moment as I position my cock at her entrance.
She takes her legs and circles them around my back thighs, making it easier for me to enter. I take a strand of her hair and tuck it behind her ear, all the while lost in her eyes. We’re locked in each other’s reflection when I slowly enter her, feeling her wetness envelop me. Her pupils dilate even further, her legs wrapping around my waist tighter as I begin to move inside her.
We both moan softly as I thrust deeper and deeper, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. I lift my ass and slide my cock in her like a see-saw, a repetitive motion that becomes almost trance-like.
I watch her mouth part for air, her eyes rolling back. Zara's hands claw at my back, urging me on as I grip one of her upper arms for support, holding her in place beneath me, my other hand gently caressing her cheek.
I take my time, savoring each moment as our bodies move together in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Zara's breath hitches with every thrust, her fingers now tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer.
"Abram," she whispers, her voice thick with desire. "I love you. I love you so much."
My heart swells at her words. "I know, Sweetheart. I love you both.”
She nods and then groans from pleasure that borders pain. It takes everything in me not to pound into her, to rip her body apart so she can’t walk, remembering that she’s carrying life within her.
I can feel every tremor in her body, every quickening of her pulse.
"You're mine," I growl, my movements becoming more urgent. "Say it, Zara."
She nods, her lips parting with a gasp. "Yours, Abram. Always yours."
The air around us grows thick with desire, charged with electricity. I can feel the tension building, coiling tighter with each passing second. Zara's nails rake down my back, spurring me on.
"Let go, Sweetheart," I urge, feeling my own control slipping. "Come for me."
As if my words were a trigger, Zara cries out, her body arching beneath mine. Her legs tremble, her breasts heave, and her pussy clenches around my cock, urging me on. I feel myself throb, my cock growing as large as it possibly can, every vein on fire before I see stars, and the wind is knocked right out of me before I find my release. And then, I come, my body shaking, pulsating around her, the pleasure so overwhelming. I collapse on top of her, my heart racing.
"Oh God, Abram," she moans, running her fingers through my hair. "That was incredible."
I smile against her neck, feeling her heartbeat.
We collapse onto the plush carpet, our limbs tangled, chests heaving as we struggle to catch our breath. Zara's skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, her hair a wild halo around her flushed face. I can't help but stare, mesmerized by her beauty.
"You're breathtaking," I murmur, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
She laughs softly, her eyes sparkling. "Even when I'm a mess?"
"Especially then," I reply, pulling her closer. "You're perfect, Zara. In every way."
We lay in comfortable silence for a moment, our heartbeats gradually slowing. I trace lazy patterns on her skin, marveling at how soft she feels beneath my calloused fingers.
"I can't believe this is real," Zara whispers, her voice tinged with wonder. "Us, here, to be married. It feels like a dream."
I press a gentle kiss to her temple. "If it is a dream, I never want to wake up."