CHAPTER 40
I sent flowers to her job.
She refused delivery.
I’ve texted her nonstop for over a week.
She read them all, but not one reply. Not one.
I called her.
She didn’t answer.
Peter called me yesterday to inform me that she submitted a two-week notice. Two weeks and she’s no longer connected to the company.
Meanwhile, I sit at this apartment and agonize over the space I’ve given her, feeling like she needs it while at the same time realizing it’s driving us further apart. I know I’m the one who created this mess, that’s why I’ve allowed her to control the situation, but at what point does this madness stop?
I sit up in bed and realize this is the point. This is it. It’s midnight on a Sunday. I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to since all of this popped off.
I get out of bed, slide into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, step into my shoes, and grab my keys. My mind races as I near the parking garage. I hop in the Genesis, engage the push-button start, and head straight for her place.
It’s dark and quiet. There’s not a lot of life in the streets this time of night on a Sunday. People are recovering from the weekend and sleeping, preparing for work on Monday. That’s probably what Zimyra is doing. Still, that won’t stop me from doing something I should’ve already done – take control of this situation.
I turn into the parking lot at her apartment complex. It’s quiet here, too. The pole lights outside emit an orangey glow to the parking area. I head to the door and ring the bell. I wait, listening keenly for noise, but I don’t hear a thing. I ring it again. Nothing. I press the bell repeatedly like a madman after that. Going back to my temporary home without talking to her is not an option. Not tonight. I hate to wake her if she’s sleeping, but it must be done.
“Who is it?” she asks.
But she knows who it is. There’s a peephole in the door and I know she’s used it.
I say, “Zimyra, I need to talk to you.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you realize what time it is?” she asks.
It irritates me that she has yet to open the door – talking to me like I’m a stranger. Like she’s afraid to let me inside.
I say, “Yes, I know what time it is. I got out of bed and drove over here. The least you can do is open the door and talk to me face-to-face, Zimyra.”
She goes quiet, but I can feel her presence behind the door, so I know she hasn’t gone anywhere.
I say, “Zimyra, I can’t sleep knowing that I hurt you. I’m sorry for the way you feel. I deceived you. I presented myself to you as someone I wasn’t. At the same time, you have to realize that the love I have for you is real. The way I feel about you is real. Our marriage is real. When I came down here months ago to shadow you, I had no idea I would fall in love with you. I had a job to do. That’s what I did, but the moment I walked into your office, I knew the job would be difficult because I could hardly take my eyes off you. I love you, Zimyra. I’m a man who doesn’t fall in love—who’s never fallen for anyone before I met you. I want you. I want our marriage. I don’t want to be without you any longer and if you love me, even a little, please open the door.”
More silence agonizes me. The night air thickens to the point where I feel like it’s hard to breathe. Perhaps it has nothing to do with the air but this situation. Just when my hope that she would open the door starts to fade, I hear the lock click. She pulls the door open and says, “Come in.”
I step inside, wanting to immediately pull her into my arms, but I opt to determine what kind of mood she’s in. She closes the door after I’m inside. It’s dark in her place, so I don’t get a good view of her face until she turns toward the lamp in the living room. It’s when I see tears in her eyes, bubbling their way out and running down her face.
“Did I mean anything to you?” she asks.
“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. It is real.”
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 man has touched 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. This woman 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.
“No.”
She reaches up, placing her hand on my face and angling my head down to meet her gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh…” I frown, trying to connect my thoughts so they come out in a way she understands. I say, “You are everything I thought I didn’t want and now, I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you, Zimyra. Those are not just words. I’m talking to you from my heart—from my soul. You are my life, and I will do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman in the world. I promise that to you.”
She smiles as tears fall from her eyes.
I manually lower her arms so I can touch her face. I lean down and kiss her deeply, passionately while feeling her arms tighten around me.
“Mmm,” I groan in the satisfaction that comes from feeling her breasts against my bare skin as she holds us together like her life depends on it. And then I feel her fingers flirting with the waistband of my boxer briefs. I release another pent-up breath, a long one, as she relieves the strain against my boxers. I step out of them and now it’s her turn to admire my body. With the slightest brush of her fingertips, she strums my abs before they glide down my backside. Then she touches my rigidness, prompting me to toss my head up to the ceiling while my heart flips, expands, and opens wide for her.
“Myra,” I gasp when I look down at her again while she tortures me.
“Axel,” she responds.
I kiss her with vigor, anxious to peel back her layers and watch her unravel for me. She steps backward to the bed and lies there, waiting for me to join her.
Lowering on top of her, I kiss her deeply until she’s at the point of having trouble breathing. And now it’s my turn to kiss her neck and explore her body. I graze my teeth on her pretty skin, turning parts of her neck red. The more I tease, the more she wants, so I continue sucking and nibbling her. When I reach her chest, I do more teasing, pulling her flesh between my lips and teeth before releasing and massaging with my tongue. She writhes and stirs as I do this over and over again. Everything I do to her has her squirming, yet anxious for more. I have to remember all of these experiences for her are new. At the same time, I have to make them worth her while. I have to show her how much she’s loved by my actions.
She convulses when I roll my tongue down her quivering stomach to her navel. My tongue takes laps around it like it’s running track and winning the race. She gasps to my delight. I want to completely unravel her – make her body do things it never has and enjoy bringing her joy. That’s why when I dip my head lower and witness the moment she grabs the sheets, it drives me mad with desire.
“Axel!” she screams.
I use those screams as motivation to continue driving her to the edge. She holds on to my ears like handlebars and emits sounds I’ve never heard from a woman. She tugs me. I move up, keeping myself centered between her legs. She gasps as she looks at me. She’s already broken a sweat and we haven’t really gotten started yet.
“Myra.”
I say her name so she’ll open her eyes. When she does, I ask, “Are you okay?”
She bites down on her lip and says, “Mmm, hmm.” I guess words were too much at the moment.
“Look at me.”
She holds my gaze when I say, “If anything is too much for you—”
“Nothing is too much for me when it comes to you.”
“Listen to me. I don’t want to hurt you. If anything bothers you—”
“I want to feel everything I’m supposed to feel, Axel, even if it hurts.” I watch as her eyes darken while a serene glow crosses her features. I’ve never seen that before, so I take her at her word.
Sinking slowly into the confines of her walls, I remember her state and take that into account. I understand she wants to feel it all, but I’m not going to hurt her. I’m aware of the monster I possess and she’s a delicate, untouched flower. So, I go slow and gentle. With every moment, I feel the pressure threatening to unbind what little restraint I possess. In between the heat of her legs, I’ll die and be brought back to life all at the same time. The snugness, the way she pants, her hands on my back, her face – it’s all overwhelming. But when I feel the moment I breach her innocence and watch her grimace, I snap out of the pleasure I’m experiencing to tend to her.
“Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, Axel,” she whispers, then bites down on her lip, bearing pressure.
I move more, tightening our connection, keeping my eyes on her face the entire time, studying her reaction to my intrusion. She grimaces, but she’s determined. I stare into her eyes, peering deep into her soul while I’m sinking helplessly into it. I feel the gentle hugs from her canal as she welcomes me. Stretches for me. She winces as she attempts to handle me and I’m still descending, filling her to capacity as she receives, her fingertips digging into my biceps while she makes an attempt to relieve the pressure.
I finally settle and when I do, I lower my weight on top of her, my elbows resting above her shoulders as I stare down at her. I’m in no hurry to rush anything. I want to savor every moment. I want her to relish the moment – to get used to our bodies being connected this way.
I lick the length of her neck to her chin before sucking it into my mouth. Then I kiss her lips while moving gently, giving her a little, but not too much. A little goes a long way, and my sunflower has a long way yet to go with me.
“I love you, Zimyra.”
“I love you, Axel.”
“How do you feel?” I hear myself asking. It’s a new feeling for me to care . I’m experiencing many firsts right along with her.
“I feel okay.”
“Just okay?” I ask, then leave a kiss on both cheeks before landing on her forehead.
She nods and says, “It’s different, but I want it.”
I grin and say, “Same.”
She smiles briefly, then lifts her head to kiss me. She locks her hand behind my neck and pulls me down while our mouths are still connected.
I move a little more, rocking gently while we kiss, giving her a little more.
The bed covers rustle beneath us.
I give her a little more.
Her moans increase.
I give her a little more.
The way she clenches me effortlessly pushes me toward my undoing. The way I move push her to hers.
I give her a little more.
She whimpers. “Axel.”
My name is caught in the love sounds emanating from her throat, telling me she’s near.
She frowns.
Scowls.
She mumbles something incoherent.
Her eyes slam close.
Her mouth gapes open.
Her body quivers.
She screams for me.
Squeezes me.
Screams more.
I give her a little more.
And then I watch with pride as she comes completely undone beneath my body and as she does, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “That’s a good girl. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”
She smiles through her pants – through this feeling no one has ever given her before. She basks in it with a flushed face, completely spent, tired, exhausted, and in the most beautiful agony I’ve ever seen.
I’m triggered.
Like a chain of landmines, her explosion triggered one inside me. I try with all my might to constrain the groan that wants to grow into an all-out scream, but it’s of no use. I topple over, my stomach vacuuming as the force rams my body and draws everything out of me.
“Myra!”
Everything goes dark. For a moment, I don’t see a thing, then her face comes into view.
She grimaces.
I see tears.
I hear moans.
It’s dark again.
I grab a handful of her hair and breathe against her neck.
My heartbeat matches the frequency of hers. We lie here soaked in our collective desires. Our love. Our passion. And I’m left completely stripped bare because I gave her everything.