Page 120 of Zimyra

“What?” I ask, frowning. Her question cuts me like a sharp blade.

“Was this all a game for you because it wasn’t for me, Axel?” she asks. “I ran off with you like you were my happily ever after, and yet I can’t stop crying. How does that work?”

I take a step over to her and say, “It was all real. Itisreal.”

When I feel like it’s safe – like she’ll be receptive to my touch, I place my hands on her face, brush the wetness from her face with my thumbs, and say, “There is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you, Zimyra. I regret not being upfront and honest with you about who I am, but I love you more than my words can say, and I miss you with every part of my soul. I don’t want to go another minute without you.”

She closes her arms around me. I feel immediate relief from the pressure that’s been bearing down on my chest. The moment I hear her sniffle, the heaviness is right back, but at least now I can work on repairing it. The only way I can do that is by fixing her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, as she cries against my chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll never hurt you again.”

It feels like hours have passed since I arrived, but I glance at my watch to see that the time is 1:15 a.m. It’s early in the morning. I’m sitting on the sofa, holding her in my arms. She’s since fallen asleep and I sit here admiring my beautiful wife, feeling waves of relief wash through me. She’s given me another chance. I’m going to make the most of it.

She stretches her arms, extending them above her head while pushing her legs in the opposite direction. Her eyes open and immediately find mine. She touches my face. I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of her touch as I feel her lips touch mine briefly. I open my eyes in an instant, grip her neck, and pull her mouth to mine. Our lips crash together. Burn together. Melt and fuse together. When that’s not enough, when I need to taste her tongue, I pry her mouth open and shamelessly indulge in her warmth. I savor her soft lips. Suck them. I’m addicted to them – to everything about her.

She pulls her lips from mine and straddles me, then comes in for more kisses. My lips interlock with hers. Over and over again, we indulge as our heads turn and move opposite of each other, deepening the kiss with each cycle of this madness. She gulps my tongue like she’s trying to quench a thirst. I slurp hers like I’m trying to fill a hunger. She strokes my mouth deeply, her tongue hitting the back of my throat with every pass. I let her control the kiss – let her do whatever she wants to me. Get whatever she needs to get from me. Take whatever she desires to have from me.

With each soft moan that emanates from her throat, my heart swells while other parts of me harden. While we’ve shared a level of intimacy before, we’ve never made love. It’s feeling like that might change in the wee hours of this morning.

To my discontent, she leaves my mouth to focus on kissing my neck. I’m sure she felt the gulp I swallowed against her lips while enduring the intimate attack of her teeth grazing my skin. I encourage the torture. I need her to get her lick back for what I did to her. I’ll be at her mercy, even if temporary. I have the strength to change whatever needs to change. However, she’s the one in control. Of all the encounters I’ve had prior to knowing this woman existed, none have left me feeling weak and powerful simultaneously. Zimyra’s leaving me gutted already, and I haven’t even come close to the things I desire to do with her.

My hands slide up her pajama top. I’m touching the soft skin of her back, its smoothness enough to make my hands roam up and down, exploring her feminine body. Her body is silky – the kind of softness that makes me lower my dominance to meet her halfway, but also makes me raise it to give her my all without holding anything back. She deserves that version – the one who’ll love her down until she’s so spent, all she can do is beg for the mercy she won’t get.

I pull my head back slightly to disconnect our mouths and say, “Baby?”

“Yes,” she utters with passion, lust, and yearning in her eyes. She bites down on her bottom lip, waiting for words to come out of my mouth.

I say, “If we go down this road, please know that we’re not leaving this apartment for the next three days. Are you ready for that?”

“I’m ready for everything you’re ready to give me,” she responds, then goes in for another kiss.

I stand while she wraps her legs around me. I kiss her while we stumble down the hallway toward her bedroom. I don’t stop kissing her until my shins bump against her bed. I lower her, pull my shirt over my head, then watch as she does the same.

The dim lamp in her bedroom is enough ambient light for me to see her body. Her breasts are the perfect size for my hands – round and beautifully shaped, making me pause just to observe them. I’m completely at a loss for words with the shape of her body. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her pajamas, slides down her pants, and pulls them down her smooth legs. My mind nearly goes blank. The sight of her naked before me has the cells in my body unraveling. I’m just standing here, trying to make myself move, but all I do is observe because it’s at this moment I know I’ve been going about this sex thing the wrong way my entire life. I’ve never been with a woman who actually belonged to me. Making love to Zimyra while knowing that she’s mine and mine only has to be another level of pleasure. No other man gets to touch her. No other manhastouched her. She reserved that part of herself.

For me.

Something about that punches me in the chest. What makes me worthy of being that man who gets to be her first? Who am I that this woman looked into my soul and saw her forever? The thought makes me choke up a little because I know I’m completely undeserving.

But I want her.

I want her more than I want life. I want my life to revolve around her. I want to kiss her when she comes home from work. Rub her feet after she’s had a long day. I want to spoil her, cater to her, buy her expensive jewelry and take her on shopping sprees. I want to hold her hand when she’s in labor with my babies. I want it all.

With her.

I’ve never wanted anything close to those things before meeting Zimyra.

That thought has left me exposed. My heart is open. My soul is hers, but the tears in my eyes are mine.

She sits up, looks at me with concern, and asks, “Axel, are you okay?”

I hear her question, but I don’t respond. I was the man who said I’d never fall in love. Never get married. Never give my heart to a woman.Thiswoman has made me eat my words, swallow, and digest them. She is my forever and she has my heart in her hands.

“Ax?”

I hear her softened voice reach out to me as she stands. She kisses my chest while I swallow my feelings and force away the wetness in my eyes. I blink back into this bedroom and try to control my breath while feeling her lips on my pecs. And while she kisses me, her hands undo my belt, then the button of my jeans. She unzips them, tugs at them, and lowers them to the floor. Then she presses the side of her face to my chest and just stays there – listening to my heart.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

---