Zephyr's Promise

24

Sweet. Her breath is sweet like the bits of fruit she has just eaten.

Lightly my lips press against her own in tender affection. I hope she can feel what I am not yet ready to say.

Affectionately she responds by receiving the kiss. With soft lips she welcomes mine on top of hers. Before Nile kissing was just a mundane required action. Now I can't imagine not kissing her. Between us it is a way of showing the sentiments we aren't ready to say. Already I have poured out as much of my heart as I can. Saying anything else to her would be unsympathetic. Spilling out the truth of how I truly feel about her would be cruel when I know in the end I'll be boarding a plane back to Russia for however long.

It is why my lips linger a second longer than usual. In a few weeks I'll remember stealing her breath in this way. When I'm sitting in a boardroom with my Papa wishing I was holding her in bed I'll remember her gasps. Her face will appear fresh as dewy morning air. Wide eyes, delicate skin, and that cute nose of hers. The tips of her curly hair will appear clear just as will the constant curiosity in her gaze. All the ways in which I have unraveled her will sit within my heart.

The tip of our noses touch. The placement is very domestic. Her bright eyes mist over and I know she feels what I do. Each moment I spend with her it becomes glaringly clear that she is my one. Her laugh, smile, kisses, all of it is the only one that touches the deepest parts of my soul. She is the spirit of life. She is what I have longed for without even knowing.

Her fingers dance throughout my hair. And then she smiles at me. All over again I am hit with pure adoration. Complete reverence and veneration for this woman in my bed. The only one to touch this piece of me.

Up until now I never understood it. I could never comprehend how a man could lose all that he has for a woman. How a powerful man such as the Kings of our past had sunk to their knees all for the sake of a woman. Now I truly know how, because the way she makes me feel is worth more than any acclaim or wealth I have amassed. Unlike the bloodthirsty women who have been pushed on me from various directions, the connection she and I share is real. It's real to me.

Relaxing on top of her I shift down so that my head rests on her stomach. An image of her pregnant flashes in my mind.

Quickly I shake my head trying to push the thought out. Out of all of the shit I shouldn't be doing, imaging Nile carrying my child is top of the list. For fucks sake I never even thought I would become a father. My family has obsessed over my lineage from the earliest age I can remember. One of the reasons I was ecstatic to have more siblings was because they could continue our bloodline. But now, I'm rethinking everything.

Would it be so bad if she had my child?

"What'd you say?" She sits up with a contorted look of confusion on her face.

If we had a daughter she'd be beautiful just like her mom. Compassionate. Intelligent.

"I said you have too many clothes on." I lie.

If we had a son he'd be fiercely protective and just as obsessed with her as I am. We probably would fight over her, and I'm not mad about that.

"Then do something about it." She retorts challengingly.

Enjoy what time you have left with her Atlas... maybe in another lifetime there will be more. For now this is it.

"Be careful what you wish for, kitten." Sitting up easily I slip off the little t-shirt she has on. Her bra is black and lacy, much too sexy for having lunch.

The cool air hits her skin eliciting goosebumps. She's a vision, a tainted little dove. Her nipples that are a shade, maybe two, darker than the rest of her skin pebbles.