Wife For Faith

Chapter 33

"It."

"What?"

Fatimah merasa atmosfer di dalam ruang kamarnya terasa berbeda. Dia bahkan bisa mendengar degup jantungnya yang seperti baru saja berlari maraton. Kikuk, serta canggung kini tengah menghinggapi perasaan pengantin baru kita.

"Oh." Fatimah was like a fool because it was only a connection after realizing the zipper that error belongs to her, now it can be released. Her body reflexes forward to avoid feeling nervous when she is close to her husband.

Aiman himself is no less awkward. He scratched the back of his still wet hair when their closeness was quite close. The man then turned his face in the other direction, then his feet stepped towards the bed that had been conjured so romantically.

His lips clucked when he saw the sprinkling of red rose petals formed into a heart image with two white geese made of towels in front, as well as lights made dimmer. As deliberately the Wedding Organizer makes it romantic because the feel of the original room is not like this.

Usual. Like a single ladies room in general.

"Are you hungry?" Aiman's voice suddenly broke the awkwardness that had come upon them. The man himself also did not want to linger in this awward atmosphere. Therefore, he deliberately sought another topic of discussion.

Fatimah's jet-black bead moved uneasily. Asked about food, his stomach suddenly rang so that he held his stomach to stop the roar of his stomach. However, the move was useless because the man in bed had already heard.

"Then let me get it." Aiman smiled when he saw his wife was embarrassed. He took the initiative to get out of the room while looking for fresh air because he felt in the oxygen room had been sucked out by no one.

His legs then walked slowly to the door of the room which of course inevitably had to pass through where the woman stood. When it was close, the leg seemed to accidentally stop next to the wife's body.

Fatimah held her breath as her husband stopped right beside her body. The woman closed her eyes as Aiman's face approached her.

"What do you want to eat?" ask her with a soft voice.

Fatimah gulped nervously. "I-I go with you, sir" he replied.

"Eh." Fatimah opened her eyelids. However, the decision almost made both sides of the chewy lips almost meet. The wife looked down and chose her wedding dress. "Sorry, I don't understand."

Aiman secretly felt the same way as Fatimah. The diaphragm inside his body instantly skipped a beat, like a drum about war. However, the man was too good at disguising himself so he looked relaxed despite the fact that he almost fainted.

"Call Mas, or .. Abi!"

Fatimah smiled in shame. He stepped back slightly so that when he looked up, their faces were not too close. However, the movement was like it could be read by Aiman until in a matter of seconds, their bodies were now stuck together.

Aiman's hands hugged Fatimah's slender waist. Ducting a foreign gelenyar, like an electric shock that runs through the body.

"Why don't you want to see your husband's face, hm? Is the floor of this room much more handsome than me?" The man's lips whispered right in the wife's ear, then his left index finger was used to touch Fatima's beautiful face.

"M-mas, bi-sa-kah reverse sedi-kit. You're making it hard for me to breathe" Fatimah said. The woman almost lost oxygen when they were only a few inches away and this position was too intimate for her to be layman about something like this.

"really? But, if I don't want to .. how?" Aiman deliberately made women who were closing their eyes tormented by their closeness. He also did not understand why he could do this recklessly, even though his intention was not to tempt his wife. However, when he saw Fatimah's present face, something in his body reacted on its own.

Fatimah ventured to look up. Tracing every curve of her husband's face. From the forehead, then down to his almost fused thick eyebrows, his plump fur, then down to the same jet black bead as his, then the nose pointed, and then the nose, and finally the natural red lips to tempt the faith of Fatimah to taste it.

Astaghfirullah. Forgive my ugly mind, O God. I don't know why I can think like that. Please, forgive me, God! I promise I won't think dirty anymore.

"What's wrong? Is there something strange on my face? Or," his wedges, while pulling Fatimah's body closer until now their foreheads are attached to each other. "You're thinking about something about us?"

Both of Fatimah's cheeks were already red. Her heart rippled, even her stomach was wrapped around just because of the intimacy made by her husband. He almost fainted from breathing difficulties as if all the oxygen sudha was inhaled by the clamorous humans that were in front of him.

Oh my God, is it time?