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27. Myla
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His Kind Of Woman 28. Zayne
"Sorry, I took a while." Myla's mother walks to me with a cup of tea in her hand. "I thought this would make you relax." I see my mother in her. She's got her eyes, that soft motherly look that makes me want to just hug her and close my eyes. "Thank you. I appreciate it." I take the cup from her, the warm steam and comforting aroma immediately making me feel more at ease. We're sitting in the living room while Myla packs her things. We figured she should stay at my place for some time while we complete the marriage process. "Myla talked to me about your marriage." She says and I look at her, noticing the ghost of a smile that crosses her face. "I always dreamt about when she gets married, but the moment it happens, it's a fake one." Fuck. Guilt rushes through me as she looks a time with sad eyes. I feel torn. I know that this marriage is based on ulterior motives, and the guilt of using her for my own gain weighs heavily on me. But I genuinely care for her and want to make her happ
His Kind Of Woman 29. Zayne
"Zayne." She calls my name, her lips against mine, and I smile. A gasp leaves her mouth when I put her legs around my waist and hold her ass, making her look at me. I lean in and kiss her again, and she moans softly against my mouth, making my cock jolt with desire.My mind is clouded by her moans and soft breaths and it takes just a moment before I'm completely lost in her the intoxicating scent of her skin and the taste of her lips, my hands running up and down her back."Jesus Christ, Myla, I want you." I breathe against her skin, making my way to my room before I put her on the bed, my hands exploring her body that I memorized every inch of. The shirt and pants she's wearing are quickly discarded, leaving her naked and exposed to my hungry gaze. Her breathing becomes ragged as my lips trace down her neck, leaving soft kisses along the way. I feel her hands running through my hair, pulling me closer to her, urging me to keep going.Pretty girl, we're in for a long night.She arches
His Kind Of Woman 30. Myla
His arm around me feels like a warm blanket as I close my eyes and drown in his scent. In his presence. In his embrace. In his love.My gaze darts to my hand, where the ring sits on my finger. It's a beautiful one, I wonder if he chose it himself. I mean, he's Zayne Laurier, he probably had someone pick it up for him because of how busy he is. Nevertheless, it fits me just right. I can see a little bit of me in its form. It's crazy how I'm trusting him with myself and my life, but I would never choose otherwise. It's not just the physical attraction, although that's definitely there, it's the way he makes me feel. I know that with him, I'm safe.When I look up at him, he's sleeping like a child. I can't help but smile at the sight of him. His features are so peaceful when he's asleep. His usually intense gaze is now replaced by a calm and serene expression. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with each breath he takes, and I can feel the warmth emanating from his body.I don't rea
His Kind Of Woman 31. Myla
The car ride passes in a blur, and soon we arrive at the courthouse. The ceremony is simple, just as Zayne had planned. Mom and Keith stand as witnesses, their presence a reassurance that I'm not alone on such a day. Vows are exchanged, promises are made and rings are placed on our fingers. He stands by my side, not whole, just half because only a part of him is not afraid of what's happening. His other part is still wondering if he could love again and I feel it in his gaze, touch, and presence. But I hold his hand tightly and intertwine our fingers, offering him a silent promise that I'll be there when he needs someone to hold. Someone to show him that he's not broken. As the officiant pronounces us husband and wife, there's a collective cheer from Mom, Keith, and even a few strangers who happened to witness our small ceremony. Their cheers mingle with the sound of my racing heartbeat when Zayne leans in and kisses my lips. This is not our first kiss nor our last, but it's differ
His Kind Of Woman 32. Zayne
I've made thinking about her an art form. I've had plenty of time to practice and perfect my craft in the years we've been together: I paint her profile into the swirling maze - like shapes that draw themselves on the backs of my eyelids when I shut them tight. I compose music that sounds like the blue of her eyes, so deep and mesmerizing that looking into them can feel like drowning. I've written odes to her lips, hymns to her hands, an elegy to the feel of her leaving my bed, the loss of that warmth. I think about her intentionally, when things are slow at work and I'm bored out of my mind. I think about her idly, when I'm in the car, headed back home where I continue missing her. I think about her when she's next to me, and when she's not. I think about her when I'm in the shower and when I don't fall asleep.I think about her as the woman I wanted so much, the first time we met, and as the stubborn, gentle soul that touched my heart, the second time we met, properly met. Our enco
His Kind Of Woman 33. Zayne
My mind goes back to the years I spent in the orphanage, way before I met Helbert. It all started after I got back home from my mother's funeral and my father threw her favorite vase at me. People said his pain turned into something ugly, but the truth was, it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, poisoning our home. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't run away that night. The mere thought sends a shiver down my spine. I never saw him since that night, but the pain, the fear, the trauma... it's all here. And sometimes, I believe it's the price I had to pay for running away. Sometimes I believe that if I didn't leave, everything would have been okay. I would have met my mother again and avoided all the heartbreak I had to go through. I remember the cold walls and unfamiliar faces, the sense of abandonment that seemed to linger in every corner. It was a world entirely different from what I had known, a place where the echoes of my past were drowned out by the c
His Kind Of Woman 34. Myla
He had gone through so much. That thought weighed heavily on my mind as I watched Zayne from across the room. I had heard snippets of his story, whispers in the corridors, and hushed conversations among colleagues, but hearing it from him felt different. With every sentence that escaped his lips, I felt myself drawn further into his world. The hardships he had endured, the losses he had suffered - they unfolded before me like chapters in a book, each page revealing a deeper layer of his pain. I listened intently, offering a safe space for his truth to be heard. It was a privilege, to be entrusted with his story, and I couldn't help but admire his courage for sharing it with me. He didn't hold back, exposing his vulnerabilities, the wounds that had yet to heal. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet refused to let it crush him, and I'm proud of the person he's becoming. The room falls silent, all eyes turned toward Zayne, awaiting his words. And I watch as he ta
His Kind Of Woman 35. Myla
"You didn't call." I step inside Zayne's new office, slowly closing the door behind me. "Because it didn't seem like she wanted me dead. I had a fun time with Olivia, she's pretty fun." He's sitting on the chair in front of the desk as if it's not his, and it makes me wonder if what I'm thinking about is right. I walk to him, carefully sitting on his lap while he gives me a surprised but amused look. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. "Were you worried?" His surprise quickly turns into a warm smile as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. "Yes. Olivia isn't someone to take lightly, and her being nice all of a sudden did raise some concerns." "She's always been nice, Zayne. A little intimidating and sometimes blinded by her own insecurities. We all have layers, after all, and sometimes it takes time and understanding to see beyond the façade we put up." "I suppose you're right." He chuckles softly, his fingers gently caressing my back as he listens attentiv
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