Chapter 98 : The Second Heart - Part Two.

The storm had finally relented, its fury replaced by a gentle drizzle that tapped on the windows like a shy visitor. Breakfast had long been cleared. Inside the bedroom, Ava found herself lying on the bed, her phone in hand as she checked her emails. And there a email caught her attention. It was from her university, and the subject line bore unexpected news. Intrigued, she clicked on it and began to read. 

The semester has been postponed due to unforeseen issues, and to her surprise there was no specified new date for when the semester would resume. However, students were still required to attend their regular classes until further notice. Ava got more time to complete her syllabus. 

Then, Ava's attention was drawn to Ibrahim, who stood before the dressing table, engrossed in his own thoughts. His tall figure leaned slightly, his hand gliding across the surface as he wrote something on a paper. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of the pen against the paper. Ibrahim's brow furrowed in concentration. 

Ava tilted her head slightly, studying his focused expression. After a moment of contemplation, she couldn't resist the urge to ask, "What are you writing, Ibrahim?"

Ibrahim turned towards her with a gentle smile. He approached her with slow steps, until he found himself sitting beside her on the bed, offering the page, "Sign it, Baby Girl."

Ava furrowed her brows in confusion. She put her phone aside and sat up on the bed. Ava took the paper from his hand, her fingers tracing the elegant script. "Your handwriting," she mused, "so manly, yet beautiful." 

Though it wasn't the first time she was seeing Ibrahim's handwriting. She was noticing it carefully for the first time and his handwriting made her captivated. Then she began to read the words written on the paper.

 - "Party A (Ibrahim) will show Party B (Ava) the secrets of her 'second heart,' and in return, Party B would offer unwavering obedience to Party A."

"Did you just..." Ava stammered, "Did you just make a contract?"

He merely smirked and extended the pen towards her. "It's not a contract. Just to keep a proof. Don't think too much,Sign it." Ibrahim urged. 

Ava, her mind racing, questioned the implications of the contract. "What exactly are you going to do?"

"You'll find out soon," Ibrahim teased.

Ava's mind raced, questions swirling within her. What exactly was Ibrahim planning? Why did he need her to sign this cryptic contract? With a subtle nod, she set aside her reservations and reached for the pen and signed her name on the dotted line.

"Okay, I signed it," she announced, "Now what?"

Ibrahim, his eyes alight with a secret glee, snatched the paper from her hand and folded it securely. He rose from the bed and strode towards the closet.

Ava, leaning back against the headboard, watched him disappear into the depths of the closet, a flicker of unease stirring within her. What exactly did Ibrahim have planned for her "second heart"? Ava thought.

And just the moment, Her eyes widened in surprise as Ibrahim retrieved something from a small locker within the closet. 

Handcuffs. 

Ibrahim's hand held two gleaming handcuffs, crafted not from cold steel but from soft black leather, adorned with intricate buckles and gleaming studs.

Ava's mind raced, memories of movie scenes flooding her thoughts. She knew exactly what these handcuffs were used for.

Fear mingled with curiosity as Ava looked up at Ibrahim, her voice trembling, "What... what are you going to do with those handcuffs?"

Ibrahim approached her slowly, his eyes locked onto hers. With deliberate movements, he sat before her, the handcuffs glinting in the soft light of the room. His voice was low, "They will help me show you how your second heart beats."

Ava's heart quickened, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of his words. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she struggled to connect the dots. Didn't he mention showing her "the second heart"? How did the handcuffs fit into this equation?

Ava scrambled back on the bed, a desperate urge to flee rising within her. But before she could move, Ibrahim caught her wrist, "Where are you going, baby girl?You can't run away from Ibrahim... not today."

Panic fluttered in Ava's chest as he caught her wrist, his grip firm yet somehow gentle. His touch sent a wave of conflicted emotions crashing over her – fear, arousal, and a strange, perverse thrill.

"No!" Ava murmured, adrenaline lending her strength as she pulled against his hold. His fingers dug into her skin, a silent message that she wouldn't escape his grasp so easily.

"Enough struggling, Ava. Remember you have signed the contract." Ibrahim's voice was a low growl.

"You… you betrayed me!" Ava told, "You said you'd treat me, not…"

But Ibrahim ignored her pleas. 

Ibrahim, his hand still a firm yet gentle grip on Ava's wrist with one hand, reached up and unfastened the simple hairclip from her cascading hair with his other hand. The dark waves, freed from their confinement, tumbled down around her shoulders, framing her face in a soft nimbus.

When Ibrahim's gaze met Ava's, the fear in her eyes was plain to see, raw and unmasked. They were wide, like twin pools reflecting the storm that raged within her, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. He knew he'd pushed her further than intended, but he had to do it.

Ava's lips trembled, unsure whether to comply or resist. Her voice, a whisper lost in the silence, pleaded, "Don't, Ibrahim."

Ibrahim's heart ached for her fear. He cupped her face with one hand, "It's late, Ava. It's too late to turn back."

Ibrahim helped her to lie down, by applying gentle pressure to her shoulder. Ava laid on her back, her hair spilling around her like a silken halo, her eyes locked on his, wide and vulnerable.

Then, with a silent apology in his eyes, he reached for the handcuffs. He had to do this.....He had to, Ibrahim told himself. He had to take it, the fear in her eyes, the resistance in her hands, he had to claim it. He had to mark her, not with scars or bruises, but with the searing imprint of his desire.

Ibrahim lifted each of her writs, bringing them above her head. Then he attached one cuff to Ava's right wrist, securing it to the wooden frame of the bed. The metal clinked softly as it looked into place, signifying the restriction of her freedom. With the same careful precision, he repeated the process with her left wrist, ensuring each hand was securely bound. 

Ava's hands, trembling slightly, lay there still, the remnants of their struggle evident in the way they clenched and unclenched. Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, fear battling with a strange, unfamiliar curiosity. Her body slightly arched, as if offering herself to a fate she no choice but to face. But little did she knew her fate was Ibrahim. Her god was Ibrahim. 

Then Ibrahim met her gaze once more. She knew she could fight, could struggle against his hold, but his eyes held her captive. She could look away, could turn her head in defiance, but her eyes remained locked on his. And Ava surrendered....This wasn't the first time she had surrendered to him, not in the physical sense. Time and again, she had yielded to his whims, his desires, her love for him overriding her reservations. Even in protest, when faced with Ibrahim's desire, she willingly succumbed to the subtle power he held over her.

Ibrahim's gaze devoured her, a starving man presented with a feast. He traced the curve of her neck with his fingertips, his breath a hot sigh against her skin. The rise and fall of her chest, the tremor of her lips, the fear that danced like wildfire in her eyes.

He stepped back to sat at the edge of the bed, near her legs. Ibrahim was appreciating the captivating sight of Ava in her sky-blue knee-length dress. But he also saw the tremor in her chin, the flutter of her eyelids, and a curious mixture of fear and something else, something deeper, that sparked like a hidden ember in her eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathed, the word a sigh rather than a statement. "So beautiful, even with fear painting your face. You look like a goddess.....A goddess trapped in a storm of my own making."

Ibrahim felt the intoxicating scent of her, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla. It was a scent he craved, a nectar he couldn't resist.

Ibrahim brought her leg closer to his mouth, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her calf. Ava, startled by the unexpected touch, gasped his name. 

"Don't, Ibrahim," she pleaded, "What are you doing?"

Ava tried to pull away leg but Ibrahim held it firm. He chuckled, "Don't ask questions, baby girl. I cuffed your hands because every time you try to stop me. Or I'll use black tape to silence you," 

Ibrahim's lips brushed against the curve of her ankle. "Let me show you the storm that rages within me, the one that only you can calm."

And Ibrahim continued his exploration, his lips trailing fiery kisses up the length of her leg, each touch a branding iron searing his claim onto her skin. He lingered at her knee, the hollow of it a perfect cradle for his lips, his breath swirling against the delicate fabric of her dress.

Ava felt her previous resistance crumbling. The fear was still there in her eyes. No ... She should stop him...she should stop...but ....Ava chose surrender. Not the surrender of a captive, but the surrender of a woman discovering a power she never knew she possessed, a power that lay not in resistance, but in allowing herself to be swept away by the tide of his desire. But she again found her voice, "This is… this isn't what I agreed to."

"Trust me, it will be beautiful....sometimes, the most beautiful journeys are the ones we never planned." Ibrahim said.

He traced the line of her shinbone with his lips and his kisses were gentle, soft, reverent. Ibrahim moved slowly, his every touch a silent interrogation, a testing of her boundaries. As he reached her knee, his gaze met hers, a silent plea for permission etched in his eyes. Ava, caught in the vortex of his desire, could only look away, her lips pressed into a tight line. The silence between them, thick with tension, was a language they both understood. 

And Ibrahim took it as her answer, his hand reaching up to slide the sky-blue fabric higher, revealing the pale expanse of her thigh...