|◁ II ▷|
beyoncé — start over.
THE GENTLE SWOOSH from the silk, draping floor-length curtains had hid the lovers out of plain sight. The purpose of the Emirati trip was to recharge their batteries and rekindle the lust that they lost.
Ebén was reminded of the vibrancy of her roars and trembles as he entered into her & continued to drive.
The catalyst that sparked a notable change in Ebén had regrettably been the unfamiliar feeling of rejection dressed in the nubile body and face of Maya St. Thomas. It should not have the turning point that impelled Ebén to make amends; but it was.
He had grown tired of imploding his arousal into the cores of women who were at best forgettable and returning back to his marble walls to do it all over again.
He wanted to share his life with someone; especially his high peaks and terrible lows.
Ezra's petite legs were wrapped tightly with his; dressed in nothing but sun kissed skin. It made no sense for either of them to be clothed — when they said spent the majority of the day with it off.
"Morning" She loved the twang in his morning husk.
"Morning, Ezra. You sleep well?"
She snoozed mildly as she rose to wake, still reeling from the fact that her core had been rocked, stirred and shaken — just the way she liked it.
"Yeah, good thanks"
Though, it seemed insignificantly trivial — she had been taken aback by his recent interest in her welfare. Naturally, she used to hate seeing the sun rise as it would usually spell that he wanted her gone. Yet, something had caused the status quo to change; and the dark-heated man had grown... a heart.
She was reluctant to press him with questions as to why it had but would enjoy basking in his kindness for as long as he would let her.
Her fingers raced under the rumpled duvet and down south to his boxers, "So why are we in Dubai?"
His eyes reconvened to her, still as attentive even after the sun went down, "I want to start over"
"With who?"
Ezra was adamantly sure that she wasn't the one; he wanted to start over with. He never took a day off to laud her continuously with his carping tongue and his foul moods that she always found herself on the wrong side of — it couldn't have been her that he was making reference to.
"You."
Oh, holy shit.
She had waited years to hear him personally validate her feelings and it really did hit different.
"I also wanted to say sorry"
That perked her up, "What for?"
"For the way I've treated you. You stuck by me when no one did... and you don't deserve that cruelty"
Okay now, now I'm convinced that I've crash landed on an alternate universe because his kindness doesn't even make sense. At all.
She paused — her brows slanted up with wariness, "Shouldn't I... apologise?"
A short and deep-sounding yawn abruptly made her pause, "Should you?"
She cleared her throat as she sat up, clearing a mountain pile of duvet that had buried them both deep, "Well yeah. I... kinda ruined your birthday?"
YOU ARE READING
I'M NOT YOUR WOMAN. (✓)
Romance( BOOK COMPLETED ) A night on the town in West London causes Maya St Thomas to meet the rugged athlete and notorious philanderer, Ebén Jávier Cástro. Ebén isn't the type to commit to things long term, preferring drunk one night stands with women wi...
