Celeste turns toward me as I pull up in front of her parents’ house, throwing me the most adorable puppy eyes. “I don’t want to go, babe. I just want to spend all day in bed with you,” she says, her voice all cutesy.
I bite down on my lip as I turn to face my wife, so fucking tempted to do as she asks, and drive straight back home. The last two weeks have been heartbreakingly beautiful — there’s no other way to describe the way the walls between us came down, both of us filled with cautious hope and so much love that it’s barely containable. The island changed everything for us. We’re no longer running from the past — instead, we’ve embraced it in an effort to move past it. We can’t change what happened, but we can decide whether we let it control us, whether we’ll let it dictate our actions.
Overcoming trauma isn’t easy, but our couple counseling sessions are helping more than either of us could’ve expected. I always thought I knew my wife better than anyone else, but it’s becoming clear there’s so much I didn’t understand — not truly. I was so caught up in the injustice of the entire situation that I failed to truly think about what drove her, and how much she’s still grieving a woman neither of us really knew in the end.
“Celestial,” I reprimand. “I’m already on your mother’s shit list for missing so many cooking sessions. Are you trying to get me killed?”
She sighs and reaches for me, her touch gentle as she cups my face and pulls me in for a kiss. “But if you take me home, I’ll ride you the way you like,” she whispers against my lips. “Isn’t that more fun than being ordered around by my mom all day?”
I groan as I kiss her, my resolve wavering. Lately, it feels like I’m rediscovering my wife all over again, even though she’s been by my side all along. Maybe I wasn’t truly letting her in, not until I nearly lost her all over again. Everything has felt different ever since I took her to my private island, the distance that was always between us diminishing a little more every day.
Celeste gasps when I pull away from her, and the way she pouts at me makes my heart skip a beat. “Zane,” she pleads, her tone whiny.
I chuckle and peck that delectable mouth of hers. “No way,” I tell her. “You don’t understand how scary your mom is, do you?”
She groans in defeat when I get out of the car and throws me a cute little glare as I walk around it to offer her my hand. Fucking adorable. I entwine our fingers and pull her to the front door, loving the way she melts into me.
“There you are,” Clara says when we walk into the kitchen. Her eyes drop to our joined hands, and she grins at me. Sometimes she looks at me with such a proud gaze, and it makes me feel so accepted. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever forgive me for what I put Harrison Developments through, but she never even mentioned it. The only thing she ever said that even remotely referenced the past was that she missed me, and that she’s happy Celeste and I found our way back to each other.
“I’m thinking of making ratatouille today. What do you think, Zane?”
Celeste sighs and wraps her hand around my waist as she leans into me. “I’m here too, you know. You only ever ask Zane for his input.”
Clara throws her daughter one of her classic deadpan expressions. “Yes, because he can actually cook. Years of lessons and you still can’t fry an egg without burning it.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing, and Celeste narrows her eyes at me. “You’re good at other things,” I tell her, before pressing a kiss to her temple. She’s started to make me breakfast on weekends, but she always burns at least one thing. I haven’t mentioned it, and eat everything she makes me with a smile on my face, but my beautiful wife is just not… a great cook.
Clara nods. “You’re especially good at gathering vegetables from the veggie patch,” she says, her tone filled with mock indulgence. “So why don’t you go do that, sweetie?”
My beautiful wife pouts before she turns on her heels and storms out, and I chuckle as I follow her, my heart racing. Some days I’m not sure we’ll make it, but then there are days like today, and they make it all worth it.
Celeste looks over her shoulder and smiles as her gaze roams over my body, slowly taking in my jeans and the black tee I’m wearing today. “I’m going to steal this one,” she tells me, nodding to herself, and I burst out laughing as I grab her and push her up against the side of the shed, just out of view from any of the windows.
“Celestial, you already have a massive collection of my t-shirts. What do you need this one for?”
She places her palm against my chest and tilts her head up to look at me. “I’ve got this whole nefarious plan,” she tells me as she slips her hand underneath my t-shirt, a slow smirk spreading across her face when my abs instantly tense underneath her fingers. “If I steal them all, you won’t have anything to wear, and then I can keep you naked in our bed forever.”
I burst out laughing, pure joy spreading through my entire body. “Fuck,” I whisper, my forehead dropping to hers. “I love you.”
She gasps, like she still isn’t used to hearing those words again, and her lips crash against mine. I moan and bury a hand in her hair, fucking enchanted by the way her body moves against mine, the way she parts my lips and deepens our kiss, like she can’t get enough of me.
Her hands roam over my body, and it’s my turn to gasp when she undoes my jeans and lets her hand slip into my boxers. “Crazy girl,” I whisper against her mouth, before lifting her up against the shed.
Celeste’s legs wrap around me, and she rolls her hip teasingly. “Just saying,” she murmurs against my lips just as she grabs my cock and squeezes. “If you’d just taken me home we’d be in bed right now, and you’d be buried deep inside me.”
I nip at her bottom lip punishingly, and she threads a hand through my hair, her nails raking over my scalp. “Can you be quiet for me?” I ask as I move a hand between us and push her dress aside to stroke her pussy over the silky fabric. “If you’ll be a good girl for me and stay perfectly silent, I’ll fuck you right here, right now.”
“Yes,” she pleads, her eyes darkening. “I’ll be so good, Zane.”
I grin at her as I push her panties aside, and she lines my cock up, my forehead pressed to hers. My breath hitches when I push into her, and she bites down on her lip in an attempt to suppress her moans, only for a soft little whimper to escape her lips anyway. It’s so fucking sexy I can barely take it.
I hold on to her hips tightly as I thrust all the way into her, and her head falls back, her lips parting beautifully as her eyes find mine. “You’re so fucking ethereal, Goddess,” I whisper as I fuck her slowly, deeply.
“I love you, Zane,” she murmurs, and fuck, I nearly come there and then. There’s something so empowering about the way she looks at me when she says it. It’s been years since I saw such unwavering emotions in her eyes, and it makes me want to believe in us despite everything.
“Touch yourself for me,” I order, and she obeys immediately, moving one hand between us while the other tightens around the back of my neck.
I bite down on my lip to keep from moaning as I watch my wife finger herself, my cock buried deep inside her against the side of her parents’ shed. “I’m close,” she moans, her voice just a touch too loud.
I capture her mouth and kiss her, silencing every single whimper, until her pussy constricts around me, over and over again. I groan as she makes me come right alongside her, my breathing erratic. “Fuck,” I whisper. “You’re fucking incredible, Mrs. Windsor.”
She chuckles and leans back, both of her arms wrapping around my neck as I lean into her. Her eyes meet mine, and that sweet smile of hers makes my heart skip a beat. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” she asks, her voice breaking.
I drop my forehead to hers and draw a shaky breath. Yes. Without a doubt, Celeste,” I whisper.
