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I sucked on Zeno’s tongue, the way he loved, the way that got him all hot and bothered. We reached an undeniable precipice and fell over the edge.
“Darla,” he murmured brokenly like a prayer in a confessional box.
“Zeno,” I murmured back in assent.
La petite mortovertook us in a powerful sweep and we came together like a raging storm. Our surroundings blurred to nothingness as we gazed at one another, panting, smiling, embracing.
He lay back against the wet grass and those big arms cocooned me. I sank deep into his skin, his muscles, his bones, his very being.
My fingers played with the water droplets on his face. I traced his eyebrows, his cheekbones, and his jawline while he watched me with a soft, possessive look.
He was etched in my every breath and every heartbeat.
Zeno was my solace.
When I closed my eyes forever, I wanted it to be in these very arms.
CHAPTER 36
Darla’s Zeno
Zeno
“What are you doing?”
I was watching the flames in the fireplace when my wife called out to me. I turned around to find her leaning against the en suite doorframe, all dewy from our shower. Her black hair was roped over one shoulder and she wore a short robe.
“Starting a fire to keep you warm.”
“How sweet of you.”
“I’m a sweet man, Darla.”
“But only with me.”
“Only with you.” No one would ever witness this side of me. It was reserved solely for my wife. “Now come here.”
After returning from the maze, we’d showered together—like a good, dutiful husband, I spent extra time cleaning between her legs—and then Darla kicked me out of the bathroom so she could proceed with her skin care routine. I’d taken that as my cue to go downstairs and fetch us some leftover risotto for a late-night dinner and created a spread by the fireplace.
Darla crossed the bedroom and grasped my extended hand. I yanked her against me and she laid her head on my bare chest.
The storm was back in full force. I’d put a slow melody on the record player in hopes that it would muffle the crashing thunder that tended to scare her.
We rocked gently to the song.
“I love dancing with you,” Darla whispered.
“I love dancing with you too.” I danced many times with this woman and each one was more meaningful than the last.
I spun her out just to hear that lilting chuckle before bringing her back into my arms, where she belonged.
The song came to an end.
I dragged Darla towards our food and lowered us to the soft furs on the floor. We could talk when our bellies were full. My wife dived for the risotto with gusto, filling both our plates, while I popped open a bottle of wine.
She sighed happily around her forkful, closing her eyes. “God, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“You didn’t eat dinner either?”
