“True. Why did you trust me with this?”
She folds her hands in her lap, looking out the window as if she can’t face me. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything when it comes to you, Vian.”
She appears so lost right now, and it breaks my fucking heart.
“I will take care of you. I promise.” I say it like a vow.
“I can do that on my own.”
“It wasn’t up for debate.” It’s my duty. My role. The reason I was put on this damn earth.
“You’re quite bossy.”
“I’m protective of what is mine.”
“So, you think I’m yours?” She sasses me, her eyes lighting up with a dare.
I smirk, my blood heating in my veins with the need to show her. “I know you’re mine.”
The atmosphere heats, turning combustible with every glance and heavy breath.
I lean into her, my voice a mere rasp betraying me. “I will kiss you now, wife.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, husband.”
I chuckle, feeling elated.
Tipping my face down, I cup the back of her neck and press our mouths together. She opens for me, feeding me sheer bliss. Tongues moving in a slow yet passionate dance, I savor the connection that transcends the physical.
Every part of me burns for her.
My heart beats for her.
My life belongs to her.
Driven by a blind need to savor her, we kiss until we are both breathless. I could sooner forgo breathing than stop kissing her.
I doubt even a lifetime could make up for the time we lost or fill the endless well of longing inside me. I crave her with everything I am.
Something in her calls to everything in me, making me respond as if our souls have always been one. I only feel complete when I am with her. She is my home, my other half, my counterpart in every way.
I kiss her face, her jaw, the soft line of her throat, lingering where her pulse beats for me.
“Mm-hmm,” she says, enjoying it as much as I do.
Lifting her hand to my mouth, I press a tender kiss to her palm, holding her gaze so she can see how deep my feelings run—the truth buried there under layers of agony.
“Vian…”
“Zara…”
We stumble out of the SUV, dazed, and head into the elevator while my men avoid my gaze.
We’ll talk later about them not informing me, but the smug expression on my wife’s face tells me I’ve found the culprit.
“Are you enjoying getting my men into trouble?”
“They won’t be in any trouble.” She spears me with an intent look that only makes resisting her harder.
