The night feels far tooshort, slipping through my fingers like the final notes of a song I’m not ready to let go of. Dinner flows effortlessly into wine, wine into dancing, and all the while, Pia’s camera clicks softly in the background.
She’s intent on capturing everything—the stars, the moon, and me. Especially me. She claims the way I look when I’m notoverthinking, when I just am, is too rare to leave unpreserved. Her lens becomes a keeper of moments I barely notice myself.
Now it’s well past midnight, the staff long gone, leaving the space ours alone. The music fades into a soft hum, and I pull her into my arms, letting the rhythm slow. The faint scent of wine and jasmine clings to her, and as we move together, her hair brushes against my cheek, a gentle reminder of how close she is.
The space between us dissolves entirely, replaced by the steady warmth of her body against mine. Her camera dangles forgotten by her side, its job done for the night, as the world narrows to just us.
Her gaze lifts to meet mine, wide and questioning, a flicker of something teasing in her expression. “We’re getting handsy, huh?”
I chuckle, the sound low and rough, because this is so her. Just when I’m ready to close the distance between us, to finally give in, she always manages to say something that throws me off balance. At first, I thought it was hesitation. A barrier she wasn’t ready to let down. But I’ve learned—oh, I’ve learned—it’s not hesitation. It’s her way of toying with me, drawing me in closer, making me want her even more.
“If you let me,” I murmur, leaning down until my lips are barely an inch from hers, “I’ll show you just how handsy I can get.” My voice drops, rough and hungry. “So fucking handsy, Pia, that I’ll have my fingers inside you, making you scream my name. If you’ll let me.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, the teasing glint in her eyes falters, replaced by something deeper, something raw. I don’t wait for her to answer. My mouth claims hers, no longer holding back the storm I’ve been keeping at bay. The kiss isn’t soft or tentative—it’s hungry, wild, a clash of need and want that leaves no room for hesitation. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she gasps against my lips.
I press her back against the low coffee table behind her, smooth and sturdy beneath her thighs as I cage her in. The terrace is quiet, the only sounds are the soft rustle of the lake breeze and her quickened breaths. My fingers weave through her hair, gently tugging, tilting her head back to expose the elegant curve of her neck. My lips claim hers, hungry and insistent, tasting the faint sweetness of wine mixed with something uniquely her.
Her hands clutch at my shoulders, pulling me closer as her body arches into mine, the cool night air brushing against us. The hem of her oversized sweater rides up slightly as I press closer, revealing a sliver of skin above the waistband of her leggings. My mouth trails down her jaw to just beneath her ear, and she gasps softly, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmur against her skin, my voice low and rough. “No idea how much I want you.”
The heat between us builds, electric and all-consuming, as my hands glide down her sides. I press my palm against her hip, my thumb teasing the edge of her leggings. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, baby. Soft, warm, and all mine.”
She trembles under my touch, her breath hitching as I nudge her thighs apart, positioning myself between them. Her sweater slips higher, exposing the curve of her waist, and I press a kiss there, savoring the way her body responds to me.
The patio couch catches my eye—wide and inviting under the starlit sky. Without breaking the kiss, I grip her thighs and lift her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist. She lets out a soft gasp, her lips brushing against my neck as I carry her the short distance and lay her down on the plush cushions.
Her sweater rides up further as she shifts beneath me, and I slide it higher, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach. My hands roam over her skin, warm and soft beneath my touch.“God, look at you,” I rasp, settling over her. “I’ll never get enough of this. Never get enough of you.
“You want to take a picture of me, baby?” I murmur, my voice a low rasp as I pull back just enough to catch her gaze. She looks at me, pupils wide, her chest rising and falling quickly. My lips curl into a wicked grin as I lean closer, my breath brushing against her skin. “How about you capture me while I’m licking your sweet pussy? Huh? While I’m making you moan for me?”
Her breath stutters, her lips parting as though she wants to answer, but no words come out. She just stares at me, eyes dark with need, her hands clutching at my shoulders like I’m the only thing holding her steady. The teasing is gone now, replaced with raw, unfiltered desire. Her silence speaks louder than anything she could say—she wants this. She wants me.
My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, lingering there before I trail it down, skimming the delicate curve of her neck. Her pulse beats hard under my touch, and I feel a surge of possessive hunger rise in my chest. My lips follow the path of my thumb, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, her collarbone. Each kiss leaves her trembling, her fingers tightening their grip on me.
I grip the hem of her sweater, tugging it upward in one swift motion, exposing the smooth expanse of her skin. She shivers under my touch as I toss the sweater aside, my hands gliding over her hips. My fingers hook into the waistband of her leggings, and I pull them down slowly, savoring the way her body responds to me—the way her breath catches, the way her thighs tense as I push the fabric past her knees.
My mouth finds her bare shoulder, trailing down to the curve of her breast as my hands roam, every inch of her soft and yielding beneath me. Her head falls back, lips parted, a quiet gasp slipping free as I press closer, my body flush against hers.
“Ophelia,” I murmur, my voice thick with want as I glance up to meet her gaze. “Tell me what you want, baby. Say the words.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and the sheer vulnerability in her expression threatens to undo me completely. Her hands slide up to cup my face, pulling me back to her, and her lips crash into mine—fierce, needy, leaving no room for doubt. Her answer is clear, spoken through the trembling urgency in her kiss, the way her fingers cling to me like I’m the only thing she wants in this moment.
“Talk to me, baby,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to drop my gaze to where I need her most. My breath hitches as I take in the sight of her—wet, glistening, perfect. I lick my lips, the anticipation almost too much to bear. “Fuck, look at you. You’re already dripping. Is that for me, baby? Tell me. You want me to drink you? You want my mouth on your sweet little pussy? Say it.”
Her cheeks flush, her lips parting as she struggles to find her voice, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “Lick my pussy,” she finally whispers, her voice breaking on the words like she’s barely holding it together.
I groan, low and deep, as her words send a jolt of heat straight through me. “Good girl,” I rasp, lowering myself between her legs. I nudge her thighs apart with firm hands, spreading her wide, exposing every inch of her to me. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty down here. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”
Her thighs tense under my palms as I lean in, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along the inside of her legs. I take my time, working my way higher, teasing her with the lightest brushes of my lips. She gasps as I pause just shy of where she wants me, my breath warm against her most sensitive spot.
“Do you feel that?” I whisper, my mouth hovering over her slick heat. I exhale softly, letting the warm air dance over her skin, and she shudders, her hips lifting toward me instinctively.“You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you? Say it, baby. Tell me how much you want my tongue on this perfect little cunt.”
“Please,” she breathes.
“Yes,” she gasps, her voice shaking. “Please. Please, don’t stop.”
I hum in satisfaction, lowering my mouth back to her, and this time, I don’t hold back. My tongue finds her clit, swirling and flicking in just the right rhythm, drawing a choked moan from her lips. Her thighs tremble against me as I press deeper.
