The Broken Vows: Zane and Celeste’s Story (The Windsors)

“Don’t be late for dinner tonight,” my grandmother says over the phone, her tone as stern as always. “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you in person — primarily how you’re going to handle Ed Harrison’s granddaughter. In the few months since she’s been working for her grandfather, she’s restructured several departments and vastly improved their company’s image and network. You need to put a stop to that. At the rate she’s moving, they’ll gain a competitive advantage over us in two years, if that.”

I suppress a proud smile as I park in front of Celeste’s house, eager to spend the afternoon with her. If my grandmother ever found out that I helped Celeste craft some of her plans, she’d probably kill me. “Don’t worry, Grams. I’ll handle Celeste.” Just not quite in the way you expect me to.

The last few months have been absolutely surreal, each barrier between us coming down after the other, until we were left with a kind of unity I’ve never experienced before. We spend almost every day together, and when I’m with her, time just flies by. Weeks turned into months, and more and more, I can see a future with her. It isn’t one without obstacles, but considering how strong our relationship has grown, I’m confident we’ll be victorious, no matter the odds. I just need to convince her of that too.

Grandma huffs before hanging up, leaving me even further intrigued about the feud between Ed Harrison and her. She doesn’t get personally involved in my business as much as she used to, but each time Celeste makes a power move, Grams gives me an angry call. It’s getting quite hard to pretend I have any intention of obstructing Celeste’s path.

I grin to myself as I grab the bouquet of white camellias that I plucked from my observatory and make my way to the front door. It swings open before I even reach it, and Celeste jumps into my arms. I catch her and wrap my arms around her, involuntarily pressing the flowers against her back. “You’re finally here,” she says, her eyes twinkling. She’s so fucking beautiful, and fuck, I can’t believe she’s mine. This is how I like her best — her hair a mess and the sexiest silky black shorts with a matching top barely covering her body. All for me. No one but me gets to have this unraveled version of her.

I grin as my lips find hers, the two of us rapidly losing ourselves in our kiss as I drop the flowers and carry her into the house, blindly making my way to the kitchen. It’s become our evening routine — each night, I come over to cook for her and help her around the house, and she’ll tempt me into staying the night. Six months flew by like that, and it’s been even more perfect than I’d imagined.

“I thought you said we’d paint the last walls today,” I whisper in between kisses as I place her on the counter, the distinct taste of menthol on my tongue. She’s gotten so good at stealing my candies, but each time she does it, it still makes me so fucking hard. I don’t even know why — I just find it sexy as fuck.

“Later,” she says as she pushes my suit jacket off my shoulders, her fingers making quick work of my waistcoat and shirt — she gets quicker at it every day. She’s been saying later for months now, and I can’t help but chuckle. Each time we plan to paint her kitchen walls, we end up wrapped up in each other instead. We’ve managed all the other walls in the house, but something about the kitchen just always leads to me taking her on the counter.

Celeste sighs happily, and the way her gaze roams over my abs is absolutely maddening. There’s something so special about being wanted by the one woman I’ve been obsessed with for most of my life. “I’m so angry that you were invited to be a speaker at the next conference we’re attending, and I was not,” she says, not even looking the least bit bothered. If anything, her beautiful amber eyes are sparkling with pride.

“I’d better make it up to you, huh?”

She nods eagerly, her hand running over my pants. “It won’t be easy. I’m very upset.”

I grin as I pull her clothes off, thrilled to find that she’s naked underneath her shorts. “You do look awfully sad,” I tell her as I cup her pussy. “So sad that you’re weeping for me, Celeste.”

She roughly pushes my boxer shorts down, leaving me standing naked. I smirk as I push two fingers into her, and she moans for me beautifully. “Spread those legs for me, goddess.” My girlfriend obeys, and fuck, what a sight it is. “Such a good girl,” I whisper. “Put those hands on the counter behind you, and don’t move them until I tell you to,” I order as I tease her g-spot. There’s something truly magical about the way she wants me, the way her pussy clamps down on my fingers.

“You’re so beautiful, sitting here like that on your kitchen counter, the sun shining down on you as you ride your boyfriend’s hand like the good girl you are. You’re a real-life goddess, did you know that?”

She moans, her hips rolling. “Zane,” she pleads, lifting her hands to reach for me.

I pull my fingers out of her and bring them to my lips, sucking them clean. “If you lift your hands off that counter, I’ll lift mine too, baby.”

“Please,” she says, her voice entirely too fucking cute. I bite down on my lip when she spreads her legs further and leans back, her gaze provocative. “I love your fingers, boyfriend dearest, but I want your cock. Fuck me, Zane.”

This fucking woman, she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. “What my goddess wants, she gets,” I murmur as I line my throbbing cock up for her.

The way she moans as I push into her fucking undoes me. “Zane,” she whispers as her arms wrap around me, our bodies intimately connected. She takes me so well, it’s insane how hot and tight she is. Celeste looks into my eyes and smiles. “I’m crazy about you.”

I swallow hard, struggling to believe this is all real. “Celeste,” I whisper. “Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you.” Surely she knows? I haven’t said the words yet, but I see them reflected in her eyes.

I pull back a little to thrust into her hard and fast, and she moans for me beautifully. Over the last couple of months, I learned which angles she likes best, and edging her has rapidly become my favorite hobby. There’s nothing more surreal than Celeste desperate for an orgasm. She begs so prettily — I can’t get enough of it.

She pulls me closer, her hand threading through my hair as she kisses me, her legs locked behind my back. I thought I was in love with her when we were kids, but fuck, that pales in comparison to the way I feel about her now.

“Yeah,” she moans against my lips. “Like that, Zane, please. Don’t stop.”

I nip at her lips, sucking her bottom lip between my teeth as I fuck her harder, my hand slipping between us to tease her clit. “How’s that, baby?”

She nods and holds on to my shoulders as she moves with me, her pants coming faster and her moans becoming louder. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Celestial. Fucking stunning, and all mine.”

“Yours.” Her legs begin to tremble and her pussy clenches around me, making me come alongside her.

“Fuck, Celestial,” I groan, my eyes falling closed. She makes me see stars every single time. It’s fucking insane.

She giggles when I drop my forehead to her shoulder, my entire body sweaty and my heart racing. Celeste turns her head and kisses my temple softly, over and over again.

“We were supposed to paint those walls white,” I murmur, tipping my head to the wall behind her. “Not these,” I add, as I push my cock deeper into her.

She bursts out laughing and hugs me tighter. “You’re ridiculous,” she says as she drags her nose up my neck before kissing me just below my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Made you laugh though.”

She begins to reply, only for us both to freeze at the sound of her front door slamming. “Celeste!” a man calls, followed by a few more voices I don’t recognize.

Her eyes widen and she pushes against my chest in a panic. “It’s my parents!” she whisper-shouts as she slips off the kitchen counter, desperately scrambling for her shorts.

“Here,” I murmur, throwing her my shirt. She puts it on in a rush, trying her best to do the buttons up.

I’ve only just about got my boxer shorts on when the kitchen door opens, followed by three pairs of shocked eyes roaming over our disheveled states.