I stand in the doorway as Celeste picks up what has to be the tenth outfit, her expression betraying her nerves. Grandma told me she warned Celeste about missing any more family dinners, but I’d thought she’d have ignored the warning.
She undoes the zipper of her black dress and pushes it off, frustration dripping off her. My breath hitches when it pools on the floor, revealing the stunning black lace lingerie she’s wearing, complete with the sexiest little things around her thighs. What are they even called? Garters, right? I have no idea, but she looks fucking irresistible.
Her gaze snaps to mine when I walk in, and she moves her arm over her stomach in an attempt to hide part of her body. My wife’s face flushes when I place my hand on her shoulder and position myself behind her. “It’s just family dinner,” I murmur, my tone reassuring. “You don’t have to overthink it.” I’m not sure why I can’t resist taking away her worries. Every damn day I remind myself of everything she’s done to me, but one of those helpless looks of hers, and I’m brought to my knees.
“I know, but I… I just…” She exhales shakily and looks down. “I wanted to make a good impression. I don’t… I know it’s silly, but I don’t want them to hate me even more.”
Fuck. She can be so fucking sweet when she wants to be. I bury my free hand in her hair and tilt her head, exposing her neck. Celeste gasps when I kiss her just below her ear, her gaze snapping up to meet mine in the mirror.
I can’t make sense of her, and the lines between us continue to blur. The hatred is becoming harder to hold on to, especially when she looks at me like she needs saving. My free hand slides down her stomach, and she leans back against me, her head dropping to my shoulder. She’s such a good girl sometimes, and when she acts like this, like she needs me, I’m tempted to believe her.
Celeste whimpers when I cup her breast with one hand, the other slowly sliding down and into the tiny scrap of fabric between her legs, until I’ve got the tips of my fingers resting against her pussy. Her breathing accelerates, and she watches me, desire rapidly overtaking her apathy. “Who did you want to impress?” I whisper, my teeth grazing over her ear as my fingers stroke her nipple over her bra.
Her hand wraps over my wrist, and she looks at me with such longing as she pushes my hand down further, her gaze pleading. I smirk at her, and she moans when I coat my fingers in her wetness before dragging it back up, leaving it resting against her clit.
“Who?”
She draws a shaky breath and parts her lips. “Raven. All of these dresses are her designs, one from each collection. I own every single piece she’s ever designed, outside of her bridal range.”
My heart wrenches, and I drop my mouth to her shoulder, digging my teeth into her soft skin just as I begin to circle her clit. I can’t tell if I’m jealous of my sister-in-law, or relieved to learn Celeste truly never stopped loving her, just like she clearly still loves Sierra. She makes it so hard to hate her, and fuck, I want to. I wish she never showed me her vulnerability, her regret.
I push my fingers into her and curl them, drawing a sexy moan from her throat. “Zane,” she whispers. She sounds so fucking needy, the distance that’s usually between us entirely non-existent.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she whispers. “I want you.”
I groan and tear my hand off her bra to undo my fly, and she whimpers when my cock pushes against her ass. The way she immediately grinds up against me is intoxicating, and I hate how I can’t resist her, how I can’t look at her without wanting her. We can’t keep doing this, I can’t let her weaken my resolve.
Just as I’ve decided I need to step away, that I can’t let her reel me in any further, she looks into my eyes through the mirror and smiles. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Please, Zane.”
I grab her throat with one hand and push her underwear aside with the other, my grip on her neck tightening as I push my cock into her. Her eyes fall closed as she takes it all, and the way she moans is fucking enchanting.
“You love the way I still can’t resist you, don’t you?” I ask, my cock buried deep inside her and my fingers back on her clit, massaging, teasing. “Is it fun to see how quickly I fold when you beg for me like that?”
She looks at me defiantly, knowing full well I’m at her mercy even though I’m the one who has my hand around her throat. She tips her head back and rotates her hips a little, the movement betraying her desire. “It is fun,” she admits, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Look in the mirror,” I order, anger bleeding into my voice. “Look at the way you’re taking your husband’s cock, Celeste.” My touch on her clit becomes punishing, and she moans as I fuck her with deep, harsh strokes. “This pussy still belongs to me. You still belong to me, Celeste.”
Some days I wish it wasn’t true, but then she smiles at me, and I thank every lucky star that it isn’t Clifton she’s smiling at. I tighten my grip on her neck and flick against her clit harder, overstimulating her. She whimpers, her body desperate for release, and I smirk as I lean in and capture her earlobe, biting down softly. “Say it,” I whisper. “Tell me who you belong to.”
Her eyes flash with the same simmering anger laced with lust, and she reaches up, her hand wrapping around the back of my neck. She turns her head toward mine, and the look she throws me makes me fucking breathless. “I’m yours, Zane Windsor,” she says, before kissing me the way she used to, in that all-encompassing, maddening way. I never knew hatred and love could co-exist the way they do for her. She’s everything, she always has been.
Celeste moans into my mouth as I finally give her what she’s so desperate for, and she comes all around my cock as I swallow down every single one of her moans. The way her pussy constricts around me sends me over the edge, and she tightens her grip on me as I fill her up, pure possessiveness washing over me at the thought of her pussy dripping throughout dinner.
My breathing is ragged as I drop my forehead to her shoulder and breathe her in, both of us trying our hardest to catch our breath. “Wear the pink dress,” I whisper as I slip out of her. “It matches your nails.”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, her vulnerability disarming me entirely. She nods and quietly gets dressed, putting on the dress I chose as I straighten out my own clothes. I can’t help but smile at her when she throws me a shy look, her cheeks rosy. This version of her, that’s the one I never got over, the one I still love, the one I miss.
I grab her hand and entwine our fingers as I lead her out of the house, both of us oddly at peace for once. “What is it called?” I ask as we get into my car.
She glances over at me, her eyes wide. I grin at her expression, my curiosity piqued further. “Um… it’s, uh, well… it’s called Got Myself Into a Jam-Balaya.”
I burst out laughing, and she throws me the cutest, flustered look. Fuck, I wish she was always like this — so sweet. “You did, didn’t you?” I murmur.
She sighs and nods, her mood sobering. “I never answered your question at dinner,” she murmurs as I drive over to my grandmother’s house, her gaze falling to her nails. “I do regret it, Zane. I regret causing so much collateral damage. If there’s one thing I could change, I would undo what I’ve done to you, even if it’s just to spare the people we both love all the pain we caused.”
I sigh as I park the car, my gaze roaming over her face. Five years of mutual destruction, only for us to find ourselves sitting here together, married and deeply unhappy. She tears her eyes off mine and gets out of the car, the moment breaking.
I follow her, and she glances over her shoulder, making my heart skip a beat. I offer her my hand, and she glances at it for a moment, seemingly unsure of what I’m offering. Truthfully, I’m not quite sure myself.
Relief rushes through me when her hand wraps around mine, and I entwine our fingers. The room falls silent when we walk in, and I throw Celeste an encouraging look. Only Grandma, Faye, and Val speak to her throughout dinner, and the entire time, she clings to the hand I’ve got wrapped over her knee, her fingers between mine.
I know how to deal with her hatred, but this version of her? Fuck, this version of my wife will have me on my knees, begging for more.
