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We kissed as if we’d survived the wreckage of life and were truly shipwrecked on this sinful paradise.
We kissed until Cal drifted away with Jess, the celebrant grumbled and returned to the helicopter, and my father turned off the video feed, leaving us all alone in the warm-licking shallows.
We kissed until even the sun bowed to our need, extinguishing itself into the sea in a flaming orb of blood and carnage, summoning the cloak of night to keep our kisses and our animalistic drive to ravage each other far away from innocent stars.
Chapter Forty-Five
MY WEDDING NIGHT AND my body had almost reached its limit.
How fucking sad was that? How fucking embarrassing.
Five weeks since I’d woken, and I still suffered so many effects from harpoon wounds and helicopter falls. I cursed my weakness, but I was also rather proud. I’d earned those bruises and scars in defeat of my enemies and the defence of those I loved.
I’d earned them.
I would wear them with pride, even if it meant having wild sex with Eleanor would tax every last power I had left.
“We’re at my old villa.” Eleanor glanced up as we slowly made our way down the sandy laneway. Thanks to everyone leaving during our wedding kiss, we had no transportation. Even Pika and Skittles had abandoned us.
Not that the short walk from the beach to Jinx’s old villa was an issue. It was an honour to walk beside her as birds roosted and the shadows of bats flickered just out of sight. I hadn’t intended to return to Nirvana tonight.
I’d…done something.
I’d gambled on a new recipe Peter Beck had been working on and set up a surprise for Eleanor. I had no clue how she’d take it.
“Let’s go inside,” I said, digging my cane into the sugary sand and doing my best not to lean too heavily on her. If I couldn’t walk unassisted, then I’d married her under false pretences, and that would be blasphemy.
She was my wife.
She’s my wife.
Fuck, I’d never get tired of that.
Slinking out from under my arm, she dashed to the door and pushed it open. Waiting for me over the threshold, she laughed suddenly, eyeing up my slow, steady stroll. “You broke so many wedding traditions today, I’m wondering if I should break one of my own.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“I think the bride should carry the groom over the threshold.” She ducked out of my reach as I swiped for her.
“Say such things again and I’ll have to punish you for trying to emasculate me. That kiss before almost ensured I fucked you right on the beach—with or without an audience. I can’t control myself around you, and I definitely don’t need you carrying my ass across a stupid doorway.”
She winked and darted inside. “Ah well, plenty of time for you to sweep me off my feet and complete that particular tradition later.”
“I’ve already swept you off your feet.” I grinned, closing the door behind me and wiping at the heat on my nape. “I’d say I was pretty successful at it, seeing as my ring is now upon your finger.”
She held up her hand, catching the Hawk diamonds in the sconces around the villa. They glittered with every promise and pledge I’d given. “They’re stunning, Sully. I love that Pika and Skittles are included.” She wrinkled her nose. “Where are those birds anyway?”
I shrugged, moving slowly but steadfast into the living room. “Getting drunk on hibiscus probably.” From here, I could see the surprise laid out on Eleanor’s bed. Familiar black boxes with purple orchids stencilled on the top.
For the past three weeks, I’d worked fairly hard, emails and theories, new concepts and trials. I’d achieved a few things during my work hours that I hadn’t divulged to Eleanor.
One, there were hints of a pandemic brewing that required swift vaccines and expensive research to inoculate mass populations. I’d tasked the scientists on Monyet to deconstruct the current viruses on hand to hopefully provide at least some immunity, if and when that pandemic spread.
I wasn’t opposed for Mother Nature to kill off the parasites of mankind, but I also couldn’t stand by if it was in my power to protect someone’s loved one.
Not now.
After falling for Eleanor, she’d ensured I had a deeper well of empathy. Too fucking much really. I couldn’t stop putting myself in other husband’s shoes, watching their wife succumb to infection and disease, knowing I had the resources to at least give a fighting chance for improving people’s odds.
Two, thanks to Eleanor’s flippant remark about using Goddess Isles for couples with marriage problems, I’d asked Cal and Jess to look into how employing a few psychiatrists and counsellors could work and offer a sexual vacation away from the strain of arguments, domestication, and mistakes. I wasn’t interested in opening my shores just yet but possibly in the future.
