MY HUSBAND IS BACK! NOW WHAT?

Chapter 4

Alina’s POV

This has to be a dream. It has to be. Elias—standing right in front of me. My whole body starts to tremble as I step back, inching away from him.

“Alina,” he says, his voice low and hoarse as he takes a step forward. “How have you been?”

I let out a sharp scoff, then burst into laughter—loud, broken, unhinged.

“I must really be losing my mind,” I mutter between gasps of laughter, pushing my hair back with trembling hands. “I’m hallucinating. That’s it. Time to wake up, Alina.”

I pinch myself—hard—and shut my eyes tight. But when I open them again, he’s still there.

I scream.

He moves closer, but I stumble back. My foot catches on something, and I fall. He rushes toward me, but I scream again and shove him away. I scramble up to my feet, heart pounding in my ears.

“Alina, I know you have questions. I know you want to know where I’ve been,” he says quickly, desperation leaking through every word. “Please—just give me a chance to explain.”

What is happening? Why am I not waking up? Why does this feel so real?

“Please, Alina,” he pleads. “Say something.”

“This isn’t real,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You’re dead.”

“You aren’t real,” I say again, louder now. “You’re not real!” I scream, breath coming in short, frantic gasps.

“Alina, listen to me. I’m alive. I’m right here,” he insists, grabbing my hands before I can pull away. My eyes go wide. Fear pins me still.

Then, without warning, he pulls me into a hug. I freeze, arms rigid by my sides, because right now—I don’t know what the hell is going on.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I’m truly sorry.”

No.

I shove him. Hard. He crashes to the floor.

“You’re dead, Elias!” I shout, voice shaking. “You’re f*****g dead.”

His eyes widen—shock and sadness flooding his face.

What the hell is going on?

“I never expected you to just… take me back,” he says, eyes glistening. “But Alina, I’m real. I’m alive. I know I hurt you—these years I was gone—but I’m here now. I’m here to make up for everything I missed.”

My voice drops to a whisper.

“Get out.”

“What?” he breathes, pain heavy in his voice.

“I need you to get out!” I yelled, my voice shaking. But he didn’t move. He just stood there.

My hands curled into fists.

I marched toward him and started shoving his chest. “Get out of my f*****g house!” I screamed, pushing harder with each word until he was backed up against the door.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I slammed the door in his face before he could say anything.

The second it shut, I collapsed to the floor.

My whole body trembled. My chest tightened, like something was squeezing the air out of me. I gasped, trying to breathe—trying to calm down—but it wasn’t working.

I was having a full-blown panic attack.

Tears poured down my cheeks, fast and uncontrollable. My throat burned from the sobs.

“He… is… back…” I stuttered, my voice cracking. “He… is… back…”

The doorbell rang. My heart lurched.

No. No. I don’t want to see him. I can’t.

The bell rang again.

“Alina!” Zayn’s voice called out from the other side.

My eyes snapped open. I pushed myself up and rushed to the door. I swung it open.

“What the hell happened, Alina?” he asked, his voice tight with panic. “What happened to you?” His eyes were wide, filled with fear and concern. “Please, Alina… please don’t cry. I’m here.”

That look in his eyes—soft, worried, warm—that’s what I needed.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I pressed my lips against his, kissing him hard.

He froze for a split second, then kissed me back just as fiercely. His arms wrapped around me, and he lifted me without hesitation, carrying me to the room.

It was chaos.

Something crashed—glass, maybe the lamp—but I didn’t care. I was too lost in the heat of the moment.

“I don’t have a condom,” he breathed, breaking the kiss.

“I don’t care,” I whispered.

The look on his face when I said that—it lit something wild in him.

I tore his belt off as he yanked his shirt over his head. My hand found his c**k fast, and he let out a moan as I gripped him. His knees almost buckled when I leaned down and swallowed him whole.

I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, but I steadied myself, relaxed, and took the rest of him in.

I had never done this before. Never deep-throated anyone.

I pulled away, breathless, still on my knees, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling lips.

“You’re so f*****g sexy,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

Zayn lifted himself slightly, eyes locked on mine, then dropped to my lips. “I’m meant to serve you,” he whispered before crashing his mouth onto mine. His hand slid behind my head, supporting me as he deepened the kiss, then lifted me gently and laid me on the bed.

The air between us was thick—hot, electric.

I swallowed hard, staring into his eyes. I’d never felt this pulled in before, never lost in his gaze like this. He tugged down my pajama shorts slowly, eyes still pinned to mine. Then—without looking away—he slid a finger into me.

A soft whimper escaped me.

I turned my head, overwhelmed.

“No. Please—keep looking at me,” he said, almost begging.

I obeyed, dragging my eyes back to his. He pushed in another finger, curling them, and my moan broke free. My thighs trembled.

“Zayn…” I gasped, trying not to cry out too loud.

But he stopped.

“Why did you stop?” I asked, panting.

He met my gaze, serious. “Are you sure it’s okay if I f**k you without a condom?”

My chest rose and fell as I caught my breath. “Did you f**k someone else?”

His eyes darkened. “I’d rather die than touch anyone that’s not you.”

The intensity in his voice gave me chills.

“Then there’s no need to ask,” I said. “f**k me.”

He didn’t wait.

He thrust into me with one smooth motion, and I cried out.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice raspy, almost animalistic.

“Yes… yes,” I breathed, fighting not to moan too loud.

“Then moan my name,” he growled, thrusting harder. “Say it—moan out my name.”

“Zayn…!” I moaned, my body arching as pleasure surged through me.

He grabbed one leg, hooked it over his shoulder, and slammed back into me. Again. And again. Each thrust was deeper, sharper, until he was circling his hips and driving me wild.

“f**k, yes!” I screamed, fingers digging into the sheets.

Sweat rolled from his brow and landed on my stomach. He lifted my other leg, bent them both at the knees, then leaned in, kissing me as he pushed even deeper. My knees were nearly touching my ears, and with that angle—he hit right on my G-spot.

“Zayn!” I screamed again, knowing the neighbors would hear.

He pounded into me, four more deep, perfect strokes.

“I’m gonna c*m,” he grunted, breath ragged. He pulled out and spilled over his hand with a moan.

We both lay there, gasping, chests rising and falling in sync.

“I’ll go wash up,” he said quietly.

“No… don’t go,” I whispered, reaching for the tissue box beside the bed. I handed him one. He smiled, took it, wiped his hand, then climbed back into bed.

“I want you to sleep beside me. Don’t go.”

His eyes lifted to mine. Without a word, he lay beside me and wrapped himself around me, breathing me in.

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling me even closer.

“Zayn…” I said softly.

“Yes, princess?”

“My husband is back… now what?”