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The wind rustled, causing my lantern to swing and the fabric of my dress to mold to my curves. The end of this drought was nigh. The flume running down my chest cavity bridged with every step I took, my hand drifting over the tall hedge to my right as I spiralled closer to my husband.
Seconds churned to minutes and before I knew it, I entered the centre of the maze. A wide opening with more blooms and a domed stone gazebo flumped in the middle, vines and roses crawling around the pillars.
There he was.
My Zeno.
He sat on a limestone bench in the gazebo, the glow of a lit candelabra illuminating the space. Whiskey bottle dangling from his fingers and a dark aura gyrating around his muscular frame, my husband was the depiction of a fallen god with clipped wings, brooding alone in his royal court.
I approached him, surprised to see the hint of self-loathing in his expression. He was unkempt for the first time since I met him. Enhanced under-eye circles, thick stubble, and tousled hair that was a tad bit overgrown but suited him so well. His trousers were wrinkled and his black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, baring his inked pecs with a cross dangling between.
He’d never looked sexier to me.
“Come to slap me again?”
I closed my eyes. Hearing his voice after days was a balm to my bruise. “No. I’ve come to apologize to you, mon amour.”
He grunted, taking a swig of the bottle. “Is that so?”
My entire body thrummed like the plucked strings of an instrument. I slapped him once before he proposed, and he asked me to never do it again. I wasn’t a violent woman and even though my hand slipped by accident the last time, I was still immensely regretful. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted, Zeno. I should have listened to you before jumping to conclusions. Please, tell me what I can do to make amends.”
I was inside the gazebo now, the light from the lantern hugging my silhouette and showing Zeno everything I was wearing…and everything I wasnotwearing.
His eyes glittered with hunger. “Leave, Darla.”
“I can’t. I don’t know the way back.”
“The same way you got here, little angel.”
The term of endearment gave me all the strength I needed.
His nostrils flared when I stepped into the open V of his legs.
I placed the lantern on the bench, smothering my grin when his breath hitched. The material of this dress left nothing to the imagination. Zeno’s brown gaze swept over my pussy, my pebbled nipples, and the diamond choker.
He kept his arms draped on either side of the bench, watching me with a dangerous look that caused warmth to pool between my legs.
Using his shoulders for support, I climbed onto his lap. A groan-like sound rumbled in his throat when my breasts swayed close to his face.
“Are you here to seduce me?” he rasped.
Obviously, I was doing a bad job at it if he had to ask.
“I miss you,” I whispered, my hands twisting in the open collar of his dress shirt.
“No.” A bitter chuckle sliced the air. “You just miss my dick.”
God, I’ve really hurt him if he truly believes that.
I toyed with his gold cross, remembering all the ways this man made me sin with him. All the ways I wanted to continue sinning with him. “I miss you, Zeno. All of you.”
He refused to meet my eyes, his jaw clenched, as he stared into the distance.
I framed his face and kissed his eyelids. “I miss your eyes.” I kissed his cheeks. “I miss your smile.” I kissed his forehead. “I miss our banter, our chess nights, and the way you read to me before bed.” I hovered my lips over his. “But most of all, I miss your laugh, Zeno. It’s my favourite sound and it pains me that I’ve gone so long without hearing it.”
A low, strangled noise resonated when I pecked his lips tenderly. He didn’t kiss me back, but I felt his resolve thinning. Céline’s words rang through my mind:he doesn’t even feel deserving of beingin your presence right now.
The wind picked up, causing my strands to flit around us like an inky cloud. The vagary of the night mirrored the shift between our relationship. We were at our pivoting point and I needed to push him a bit more to break his look of impassiveness.
