Zamageda his heart

chapter 23

'Vuka, Zama!' Xoli exclaims, shaking me awake from my slumber. 'Geez, woman, be gentle!' I complain, but she won't hear it. 'Girl, I haven't seen you all day, and I'm bored!' she says, plopping down on the bed, forcing me to wake up. The shopping bags are still where I left them. As I wake up, I start unpacking and trying on some of the dresses, sharing my plans for tonight with Xoli. 'Girl, go take a shower, so we can do your face!' she says, helping me put everything away. I take a refreshing shower and moisturise thoroughly. Xoli helps me with my makeup, keeping it clean and classy. I slip into the red off-the-shoulder bodycon dress with long sleeves, my baby bump slightly visible, and black strap heels. I spritz on some 'Good Girl' perfume, which I've noted Zipho likes. With Xoli's encouragement, I feel drop-dead gorgeous. I place the gift set in a black gift bag and the scan printouts in a small gift box.

she offers to drive me to the hotel since Mr. is stuck in a meeting. 'What's the tea on NgoLusanda and her duo?' I ask, curious about the gossip. 'Girl, it's a lot,' she sighs. 'But the biggest scandal is how they formed that trio and ganged up on Ntsika's wife. The wild part is she met Ntsika through their mutual friend Pearl, but there's no hostility towards her.' She chuckles, her anger rising. 'Ntsika's wife is Lusanda, just Lusanda,' I say. 'You're marrying into a family of polygamists, chommie,' she snickers. 'Shem, umntanabantu even miscarried because of those three, so Ntsika moved her to Cotswold and she hardly comes home.' 

The fear of losing my child grips me, especially if it's because of another woman. 'You lie,' I respond, fueling her to spill more tea. 'Girl, that's not even half of it,' she continues. 'They've made being a Mabaso wife their whole personality and make it unbearable for everyone. But these men are bullies, so divorce isn't an option. They just move on and let you watch them love another woman while you're still watching.' The animosity in her voice is palpable. All I can muster are a few 'yhos' and 'unamangas' until we arrive at the hotel and check in. She hangs around until Zipho calls to say he's at the restaurant.

As I escort Xoli to her car, I make my way to the restaurant, my heart racing with anticipation. 'Hi, I have a reservation for Miss Zungu,' I inform the hostess, who guides me to my table. I request that she direct Zipho to me when he arrives. Moments later, he emerges, resplendent in a black suit and crisp white shirt, his light complexion radiant in the dim lighting. The room brightens with his presence, like a sunrise breaking through the night. He approaches me, a lavish bouquet of flowers , carried with the confident air of a Zulu man. His warm smile beckons me closer, and I'm seized by an overwhelming urge to surrender to his embrace. 

'Nhliziyo yami,' he greets, enveloping me in a tender hug. 'Mbulazi,' I respond, as butterflies dance in my stomach. His scent is intoxicating, a heady blend of masculinity and charm. His chest, hard and comforting, feels like a haven I've longed for. His touch ignites a deep longing, as his free hand caresses my back. 'You smell amazing,' he whispers, his breath warm and gentle on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. In this moment, I yearn to lose myself in his arms, to let him claim me, body and soul.

'Nazi izinto zakho,' he says nonchalantly, handing me the bouquet of white tulips. I know he's not fond of buying flowers, but since I mentioned liking these specific ones, he's made it a point to surprise me with them every other week. 'Ngyabonga, sthandwa sami,' I say, as he pulls out a chair for me and takes his seat once I'm settled. He knows I love capturing moments, so he voluntarily takes pictures of me with the flowers and airdrops them to my phone. Throughout dinner, our conversation flows effortlessly, leaving me wanting to skip the formalities and surrender to his embrace.

 'On a serious note, mbulazi,' i breathe, 'I brought you here to sincerely apologize for my behaviour. You're not responsible for my mother's passing, and I've been wrong to project my grief onto you. You've been supportive and loving to me and my siblings.' I exhale, and he lets me continue, 'I've been a horrible partner to you, mtungwa, and I'm truly sorry.' His warm hands envelop mine, as I pour out truthfully. He teases, 'You've been so horrible, bese ngizisola nokuthi ngakumithiselani ngoba lesisu siyasixabanisa.' His tone turns stern yet soft as he adds, 'As your man, it's my purpose to make everything easy for you. Please allow me to carry your burdens; your load is my load Sengwayo. Don't take that away from me.' His gaze mends every part of my broken heart, and the gentle brushing of his hand on mine feels comforting. I'm left speechless, able only to remind him truthfully how I feel about him.

'I love you so much, and I'm so grateful to have a man like you in my life,' I confess, feeling a lump form in my throat, but I need to keep my emotions in check. He chuckles, brushing his shoulders, and I giggle at the sight, knowing I've struck his ego. Our waitress interrupts, 'Would you like some dessert?' I respond, 'I'll have today's special, please.' I glance at Zipho, knowing he doesn't have a sweet tooth, so whatever he orders will be mine to enjoy. 'I'll pass, thanks,' he says, his gaze locked on mine, filled with a brief spark of lust. But I crave ice cream, so I ask, giving him puppy eyes, 'Please have some ice cream.' He smirks, knowing I want it for myself, 'I'll have it if you're the plate.' The waitress giggles and walks away. His eyes haven't left mine, leaving me squirming, feeling the pleasure build, and the tension rise. I try to cross my legs, but he gently tugs my left leg, making it harder for me to find comfort. 'Don't,' he warns, his voice low and husky.

He watches me, transfixed, as I savour each bite of my dessert, my spoon gliding across my lips, my eyes closed in rapture. I let out a soft moan, my tongue darting out to lick the spoon, my body swaying slightly to the rhythm of my pleasure. 'Asambe,' he whispers, his voice husky, breaking the spell. His eyes burn with desire, dark and intense, as he gazes at me. I feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. 'Okay,' I reply, standing up, and he follows closely behind, his hand on my back, the other tucked deep in his pocket. 'Please bill it to my room,' I inform the waitress, as we make our way to the elevator. The doors slide open, and he seizes the moment, his lips crashing onto mine in a hungry, passionate kiss. If it were up to him, he'd claim me right there, in that instant.

the elevator pings as we reach our floor and i walk to our room, he takes the flowers from my hand placing them in the ice bucket Xoli was using earlier and waltz towards me the hunger visible in his eyes, he sneaks his hand on my back and the other one on my neck as he pulls me in for a kiss, his lips soft and cold i could taste the traces of cognac from them. our tongues slow dancing to the vibration of our bodies, i let out a light moan as he gently chokes me while the hand on my back unzips my dress. his warm hand comes into contact with my skin as he removes my dress slowly with his hands drawing soft notes on my skin. i help him take off his blazer and shirt and unbuckle his pants lowering them to his ankles, he steps out of the and helps me with my shoes before taking his off, he swiftly pick me up and placing me on the vanity desk. 

with my legs wrapped around his waist he trails kisses down my neck while his hands roam around my thighs, he is in no rush his kisses soft and gentle on my skin, we're get lost in each other as he takes pleasure in my being and i wilt in his embrace. this man can do however he pleases with my body as i welcome every thrust and every hump that fills me up and leaves me wanting him dug deep into my core for the rest of my days. our moans and groans echo in the room and we bathe in each others sweat, on the desk, against the wall and on the bed our bodies sing perfect melodies as we bask in our love. 

'I have something for you,' I whisper, his arms wrapped around me. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. 'A gift,' I clarify. 'There's no gift greater than you loving me,' he says, cupping my face in a tender kiss. 'It's my love for you in physical form,' I explain, pulling out of the kiss, my excitement growing. 'Wow me,' he says, his face beaming with anticipation. I retrieve the gift bag from the closet and hand it to him. 'Open it,' I say, barely containing my excitement. He pulls out the tiny box and gift set. 'This better not be a ring,' he teases, contemplating opening the small box. I laugh, reassuring him, 'Even better, baby.' He opens the box, and his gaze meets mine, unsure if he's happy or upset. 'I got them when I visited Nyezi at work,' I explain, 'I asked her to print them out.' He looks at me, his eyes glued to the black and white pictures, his face filled with pride, the same love he shows Namisa and Iyana. 'Indlalifa yami,' he whispers, 'Ngyabonga, Sengwayo.' He envelops me in a hug, that ends with me breathless and my legs shaking.i know uzongibonda kuze kuse but i'll gladly let him have me in any angle of his preference because i am his to be taken mind, body and soul , captured, and consumed as he desires.