I brushed my teeth. The hotel room we were staying at was quite fancy. I had decided to spend the night in one of my business partner's hotels because my grandparents would be staying at my estate to watch over Bashir. I spit water out and gripped the counter. My eyes lifted to the mirror as I gazed at my reflection.

She knows.

I was a broken mess. I was a man with demons inside. I wasn't, nor will I ever be, good enough for the sweet bride that was sharing this room with me. She was pure and innocent. She was like an angel. She was raised in the comfort of a family. Tasneem didn't know the evils of reality.

She was sheltered from it. I was the complete opposite. I had shunned my own family for years. I lived through a harsh reality. I became a monster in the shadows. The scars on my arms were proof of my past. I glanced at the harsh lines through my white muscle shirt. I squeezed my eyes shut.

She was going to be repulsed by them just like everyone else in my life was. No one wanted me for so long. As a teen, whenever I wore short sleeves, everyone would stare at them. They wouldn't say anything, but I knew it bothered people, it irked them. When I turned my back, they'd whisper.

People would come up with rumors of my past. I found myself enjoying solitude rather than the comfort of others. I found comfort in my own thoughts instead of comforting voices.

I opened my eyes. Allah saved me. He was the one I turned to in all those days and years of loneliness. I had no one else to turn to. No one understood what I had been through. No one could imagine the pain I had endured for years. They didn't know about all the darkness that had once consumed me. Not even my grandparents knew the full story. Bashir was too young to remember our parents and what had happened. I sighed and splashed water on my face.

I wouldn't taint Tasneem. She shouldn't have to deal with my emotional baggage. I only needed a wife. If she didn't want me after one year then I would let her leave.

I didn't expect us to last long. She could do so much better than me. I heard from the wedding that many men had wanted her, but her family always refused. I couldn't blame them. They had one daughter, hell, even I'd be over protective of Tasneem.

The idea of another man touching her boiled my blood. Perhaps it was because of her innocence. She wouldn't know how to deal with greedy men who only wanted her for their own pleasures. Tasneem deserved better than that. I felt a heavy sadness on my chest.

She should have married someone else. I expected her to say no to my proposal even with my threats. However, I was deeply mistaken. I shook my head. That girl was full of surprises.

I opened the door and walked into the adjoined room. Tasneem sat on the bed in her red wedding gown. Her bright red veil still neatly on her head as she stared down at her henna stained palms. The red lipstick didn't smudge at all. Her lips looked extremely kissable at that moment.

I could imagine biting down on her bottom lip that she teased me with before. I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding in. This seemed to snap her out of her daze and she looked up.

She peered at me through her thick lashes. Her big brown eyes widened as she took in my casual appearance. She had never seen me in anything but a suit, and here I was standing in front of her in my boxers and muscle shirt. Her lips formed an 'o' shape. The red lipstick was really making it hard to concentrate on anything remotely civil.

The gown she wore fell over her hips and waist, giving me a glimpse of her hourglass shape. I noticed that her eyes didn't linger on my scars, instead they were trained on my eyes. I raised a brow at her.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, not breaking eye contact.

She quickly averted her gaze downwards. "N-No," she stuttered as she fidgeted with her hands.

I decided to ignore her nervous tone and went to the other side of the bed. I opened my bag to find the gift I was supposed to give her. I felt bad by forcing her into a marriage with me. I would never become the husband she wanted. Girls like her wanted a man who would sweep them off their feet, buy them roses, and show them many romantic gestures.

That wasn't me. I didn't know the first thing about romance. I was a bitter man who had desperately escaped his past. I was haunted internally. I was shattered and no one could change who I was, not even her.

My hands touched the velvet box. I picked it up and sat next to her on the bed. Her body tensed and she kept her gaze low, trying to avoid eye contact.

"You don't have to lower your gaze at me. We're married," I flatly stated.

"Sorry," she mumbled, still she did not move her gaze.

With a frustrated sigh, I gripped her chin and forced her to look at me. She gasped in surprise, but said nothing. I frowned, not liking how she was avoiding any contact with me.

"Don't look away from me," I whispered.

She hesitantly nodded. I dropped my hand down to her arm, the box was placed on my lap. My fingers brushed against the small jewels on her wedding gown. Her eyes followed the movement of my hands. I touched the long red veil on her head, asking with my eyes for permission to take it off. She slowly nodded.

I inhaled a deep breath before gently pulling it off. Then I unwrapped her hijab. My movements were slow, deliberate. I wanted to reassure her that she could stop me whenever she wanted to. I would never force her even if it was my right as her husband to see her hair.

Her long black hair fell from the bun it was in. Her hair cascaded down her back, the curls bouncing as they fell. Her side bangs fell over her eye, shielding the beautiful brown orb from me. I was appalled by her beauty. Good Lord, she was breathtaking. I wanted to do so much to her, but I knew I shouldn't.

I took a strand of her hair and wrapped it around my finger. I leaned my forehead against hers. She closed her eyes. My other hand went up to stroke her cheek. I could feel her breath mingle with mine. Her chest rose and fell.

Could she hear how loudly my heart was thumping against my chest?

Her red lips were tempting me to smother them in a demanding kiss. My bulge strained against my boxers. She was mine to touch and to pleasure. I wanted to show her a side of life that she never experienced before. Tasneem leaned into my touch, her lips in a pout as if she was waiting for a kiss.

I can't.

I pulled away.

I wouldn't take advantage of her. She was worth more than that. I had to calm my hormones down. Tasneem's eyes fluttered open. She looked confused. I took her wrist in my hands and fastened the gold bracelet on. I had bought a gold bracelet that had the most intricate designs on it. It matched her henna designs quite well.

"Ibrahim, I can't accept this," she said while trying to pull her wrist away.

"You can and you will," I let go of her wrist after I was done putting the bracelet on her.

She gazed at it in awe. "This looks expensive."

I flopped on the bed and smirked, "It was."

"Why are you giving it to me?" she asked, clearly not registering the fact that we were now a couple.

"Because we're married?" I chuckled, "Sweetheart, you need to keep up with reality."

She lightly traced the small golden designs with her fingers. Her lips slowly curved upwards and into a gentle smile. I felt pride knowing that I was the reason why she was smiling. Had she always looked this beautiful when she was happy?

"Thank you."

I snapped my attention back to her. I noticed she was still wearing her wedding garments. All that jewelry and layers of clothing must be uncomfortable.

"Shouldn't you change?" I frowned.

She looked down at her clothes. "Yeah, we're not going to... you know..." she trailed off.

Sex. She thought we were going to have sex tonight because it was our wedding night. Although I had no problem with complying to it if she was ready, I knew I shouldn't. She was pressured to think that we had to do it tonight, but Allah never said that a married couple had to have sex the night they were married. It was completely up to us on when we wanted to do it.

"Not unless you want to," I lazily grinned at her from my position.

Instantly she blushed. "Uhm... If you want... I mean," she stumbled for words as she looked away from me.

I propped myself up on my elbows. "Tasneem," I cut her off, "come join me in bed after you change."

She quickly nodded and went out the room.

I chuckled to myself. She was so innocent. It was like any reference to intimacy and she'd turn red. To some guys, it might have annoyed them, but to me it gave me an even bigger reason to protect her from my past. I didn't want to ruin her innocence. I laid down, putting my arm over eyes. Allah, please protect her from me. If miracles were possible then maybe Tasneem would grow to love me one day.

I heard light footsteps in the hall. I removed my elbow from over my eyes and watched Tasneem bend over to her bag. She wore a loose gray shirt that fell over her curves. Her bottom was snugly covered by her sweatpants. I held back a groan as I forced my eyes away from her alluring figure.

My erection was throbbing, but I held back my desires. God, the things I would do to her. I took deep breaths to calm myself. It should be illegal to have this much of an effect on a man.

Tasneem's small hands found my rigid chest. I looked down at her. The lipstick was removed but it left a red stain on her small lips.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worried.

The sexual tension I was feeling was not helping the situation. "Yeah," I rasped out. "But if you don't move away from me right now, I can guarantee that you won't leave this room a virgin."

Instantly, she let go of me. I let out a breath of relief when there was some distance between us. She awkwardly stood near me, looking everywhere except at me. I cleared my throat to gain her attention.

"Come join me," I said as I patted the space next to me. "I don't bite," I winked.

She quietly walked over to the other side of the bed. The bed dipped besides me. Tasneem hesitantly laid on the bed. I can sense that she was nervous. It was the first time that she had shared a bed with a man. I decided to keep to my side of the bed. My body was urging me to pull her closer, to hold her against me, to kiss her, but I knew I shouldn't.

I felt Tasneem shift besides me. She was facing me now and we gazed at each other. The moonlight shone across the hard edges of her face. A glint was in her eyes, those light brown eyes held so much in them.

I wondered how Allah created such a beautiful creature and why she was given to me. She brought her hand to my jaw and brushed her fingertips against it. I shivered from her touch. She smiled.

"I don't think you're that scary," she whispered. "I think you're just misunderstood."

I stayed silent, carefully examining her.

She yawned. "You're just... a beast..." she trailed off as sleep overtook her body. "On the outside," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

I gently gripped her hips and pulled her against my chest, her heavenly scent overtaking my senses. She snuggled against my broad chest. Her breathing came out even. He lips were slightly opened. Her thick lashes covered her light brown eyes from me. I tightened my arm around her. My lips moved down to her ear.

"Goodnight, Tasneem," I murmured.