Vian
My heart and brain wage a bloody war inside me, leaving only carnage behind. Split between love and reason, I surrender to my sole need: her.
“Hmm, I’m thinking of taking you behind the waterfall,” I say, challenge underlying my voice.
“Anywhere but there,” she murmurs as if pleading for understanding.
It takes everything in me not to tell her it’s me. It’s fucking me. I am the man she loves and is loyal to. While I am proud to have achieved that, to have loved her deeply enough to leave an indelible mark on her, that very love now jeopardizes her falling for me anew.
My heart urges me to take her to the same place that means so much to us, but my brain reminds me to follow the plan. Take it easy. I won’t win if I push her too much, too soon. If she locks me out, it will be harder to slip through the cracks.
All I’ve wished for is a way in. It should be enough, but I am ravenous for her, needing her like she’s air while my lungs threaten to cave in from sheer pressure. I’ve been drowning, stuck at the bottom of an ocean of longing, struggling to break through.
Even with the odds against me, I won the chase.
I got my kiss, but her stunt demands retribution.
Ideas run through my head, exciting every nerve ending.
I toss her over my shoulder and carry her to shore as she yelps and pounds at my back—so feisty, but nothing could stop me.
Not her fake yelp of indignation. Not her shoving at my back and demanding I put her down.
Only when I reach my destination do I ease her down. It’s a warm summer evening, and with the forest secluding us, we can steal a moment for ourselves and create a fresh memory.
Water drenches our clothes, dripping from us into a puddle at our feet.
She stabs me with an intent gaze. “I don’t want my men to see me like this.”
Palming her face, I tilt her head back for better access and brush my nose against her neck, causing a tremor to rock her. “That makes two of us. You’re for my eyes only, wife.”
I unbutton my shirt, revealing my hard torso.
Her eyes round with arousal, her mouth opening on a gasp, not leaving me.
I could pound my chest in pride, but I move to unzip my pants.
She gulps. I love how attracted she is to me.
It sends a surge of ecstasy through my veins, making me feel on top of the fucking world.
“You’re...” She clears her throat. “Pleasant to the eye.”
I chuckle. “I think I am more than that, considering you haven’t stopped salivating since I started undressing.”
She shuts her mouth to erase the proof, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
I peel off my pants in one go, remaining only in my boxer briefs, towering over her in all my hard, near-nakedness. She blinks, trying to stay focused, but this is a game she will lose. It takes everything in me to restrain the smirk teasing my lips.
I jerk my chin at her, my voice hoarse. “Your turn.”
“I will keep my clothes on.”
“Hmm, the gun heiress is afraid to get naked with her husband.” I plant the challenge there, taking full advantage of knowing her and not feeling the slightest bit ashamed.
She narrows her eyes at me and huffs. “Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me.”
“Just stating facts.” I lower myself onto the ground, pebbles digging into my back, the hard surface reminding me of the ache throbbing in my groin.
While I love her gaze on me, it amuses me how she keeps her eyes on mine, as if terrified to look at my cock tenting my boxer briefs.
After so long, I’m afraid I will fuck her so hard, I’ll imprint the shape of my cock on her insides so she never forgets who she belongs to.
More than that, I fucking miss the connection of our bodies joining and souls binding in every way.
Give me something, mi sol. I will gladly take whatever it is.
I prop myself on my forearms, looking at the clear water. The moon reflects on the surface, lulling me into the past flashing before my eyes like a film in rapid motion while I try to catch every moment and relive it again and again.
Just like in the past, she hates when I don’t give her all my attention, my greedy woman. It warms every dead chamber of my heart, filling it with embers of hope and firing the organ back to life.
She moves to stand in front of me, blocking my view. “I don’t like you ignoring me.”
I cock my head, smirking. “I think what you don’t like is not having my complete attention all the time. But you’re not ready for that conversation, especially in this place you hold sacred.”
Her brows furrow and she blows out a sound of annoyance. “So arrogant... thinking you know me better than I know myself.”
“I’m a skilled people reader.”
“But with me, you think you’re a mind reader.” She steps between my spread legs, scattering my thoughts in every direction.
What did she say again? Fuck. I shake my head, trying not to appear affected by her when it takes everything in me not to maul her.
Whatever is transpiring between us is even more intense than before, fueled by ravenous despair.
She appears like a goddess baptized by the sun, lighting up my world.
Her beauty enthralls me. From the inside out, she’s pure perfection.
I never stood a chance, knowing from the first moment I saw her that she was it.
Now I am reminded why. She is stitched into the fabric of my life, embedded in my soul, written with ink forged in destiny.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. Every inch, every curve,” I rasp, emotions threading through my voice.
My cock is painfully hard. I might come from just watching her, imagining her touch and those lips on me that always wrecked me in the best way.
She jerks her chin at my cock, biting her bottom lip. “It looks painful.”
“It is.” I swallow hard, so fucking hot for her as I cup the base to ease the pressure.
“Want to help me with that?”
“Not my problem,” she puffs out, waving me off.
“This marriage won’t go as you please, baby. My patience has an end.”
“Oh, baby, you still haven’t learned that I do whatever the fuck I want,” she says mockingly and turns around.
In one swift movement, I drag her to me. She writhes in my arms, but I tighten my grip on her. “You can’t run from me forever, Zara.”
Silence falls, only a few birds chirping in the distance as she stops struggling and lies in my arms.
She lets me hold her, and that’s all that matters. After a while, her chest rises and falls, deep in slumber.
I don’t stop caressing her.
I can’t stop holding her.
I kiss the top of her head, incapable of stopping myself when she stirs in my arms, letting out a strangled sound that clenches my heart. I tighten my grip on her to soothe her, wishing I could battle her demons so the fuckers would never disturb her.
“I have you. You’re safe,” I whisper, gently waking her.
What I see breaks my heart. She looks unfocused, lost in the maze of her brain that locks away a sizable chunk of her life.
I gulp down the ball of emotion stuck in my throat. “A nightmare?”
“My life is a nightmare,” she says and stands, closing me off with such proficiency she might as well plunge a dagger into my chest and carve out my heart.
“Tell me why,” I urge her. The risk of slipping heightens whenever we’re close.
She glares at me, and I stare right back. “We’re a catastrophe together.”
“Too late for that, so we need to make it work.”
She mumbles under her breath as I shoot up, getting dressed with harsh movements that betray my anger.
One moment of peace followed by hell. Tension stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
I follow her back to the Jeep, and she looks ahead, once again completely ignoring me.
“Your mood swings are pissing me off,” I grit out as I open the passenger door for her.
She climbs in, staring me down. “Get used to it.”
Bracing the top of the Jeep, I arch a pointed brow. “Do you want a fight?”
“Maybe I fucking do,” she snaps.
Pushing myself off, I say in my most nonconfrontational voice, “Get it through your stubborn skull that I would fight heaven and hell for you, but I won’t fight you. I am always on your side.”
“I want you to leave tonight.”
Twisting the keys, I start the engine, and the car spurts to life while my heart sputters toward its end. “Fucking no.”
The rest of the ride is spent in thick silence until we reach the mansion.
“I need some space.”
“We have spent barely a few hours together.”
This woman is going to kill me. I want her all hours of all days, and she discards me as if I am nothing.
“God, Vian, stop whining. It’s unbecoming.”
If she stabbed me, it would have hurt less. I place my hand on my chest, afraid the organ is bleeding to death.
I don’t let her finish. Pulling up to the front of the house, I turn off the engine, and jump out of the Jeep. I slam the door closed and walk away.
“Vian!” The anger in her voice surely has more to do with the fact that when I hurt, she hurts. It’s guilt. Something she hasn’t dealt with because she was never cruel to me before.
“Don’t turn your back on me. Why are you always doing that?” she cries out, stopping me in my tracks.
I turn on my heel and jab a finger at her. “I’m not the one doing that shit. It’s you, fucking you, who sends me away.”
We gathered a small audience, but I slant them a look and they scatter. No need for a reminder that we’re a catastrophe in the making.
I rake a hand through my hair and notice Conrad at the top of the stairs shaking his head at us.
We’re a mess. And maybe we should have remained a separate mess. Just thinking that severs the strings to my heart falling in the graveyard of my chest where she roams, filling my days and haunting my nights.
“Goodbye, Zara.” We can’t return to how we were. Fuck, we aren’t the same people anymore. I barely survive her as she is, but if she ever finds out the truth, I will lose her for good. Then what? I should have remained in the shadows and watched over her.
If only I could let her go, but I am a selfish bastard.
She forgot about me. She has a life, a purpose, and has flourished without me. This woman desires a different man than the one I am, which proves crippling. What am I even trying to achieve? Upend her balance and thrust her into the hell of what-ifs I am in? No, I love her too much for that.
“What does goodbye mean when we’re married, Vian?”
“It means whatever you want it to mean,” I say before climbing into the Jeep and heading toward the private airstrip.