“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice two octaves lower as he pulled me hard against him. “I’ll make you pay another way.”
The moon spilled its silver light over the vineyards as Christian pulled me into his arms with an urgency that mirrored my own desire. There were no words, only the sound of our ragged breaths as he gently laid me down between the rows of vines that now bore my name.
The soft earth beneath my back contrasted with the solid weight of Christian’s body over mine. His hands explored my curves through the wine-stained dress, lingering in places that made me sigh.
“This dress is in the way,” he murmured against my neck, his fingers finding the zipper at my back.
“Then take it off,” I challenged, lifting myself slightly to help.
The fabric slid down my body, leaving me in nothing but black lingerie I had bought in Virelia. Christian’s eyes darkened as he took me in under the moonlight. My pale skin was in stark contrast with the black lace and the deep green of the vines around us.
“My God, Zoey,” he whispered, tracing the curve of my breasts with his fingers. “You’re perfect.”
His lips replaced his fingers, leaving a trail of fire with every touch. When he reached the edge of my bra, he slipped it away with a practiced ease that momentarily made me wonder how many times he had done this before. But the thought vanished when his mouth found my breast, drawing a helpless moan from my lips.
“Christian…” I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him there.
The night breeze caressed my exposed skin, deliciously contrasting with the hot press of Christian’s mouth. Each movement of his tongue sent waves of pleasure through me, building a tension in my belly that felt ready to shatter.
He moved lower, his hands and lips exploring, teasing, discovering every sensitive point. When his fingers slid beneath the lace of my panties, my body arched involuntarily against his hand.
“I want to feel you,” he murmured against my skin, sliding away the last piece of fabric. “Every part of you.
I lay completely bare under the star-filled sky, vulnerable in a way I had never been before. But there was no shame-only a burning need that consumed me.
Christian’s lips traced down my thighs until they reached the very center of my desire. The first touch of his tongue tore a muffled cry from me, my hands clutching the vines around us.
“Christian!” I moaned his name like a plea. “Please…”
Before I could catch my breath, Christian moved back up, his eyes locking on mine with an intensity that left me speechless. I reached for the button of his pants, my hands still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.
“My turn,” I whispered, sliding the fabric down his legs along with his underwear.
The moon illuminated his bare body, perfectly sculpted like a classical Valentian statue. I explored him with curious fingers, learning what made him close his eyes and release those low, guttural sounds that sent shivers racing down my spine.
“Zoey,” he groaned as my fingers wrapped around him, testing, learning. “You’re driving me insane.”
I smiled, feeling powerful as I unraveled this man who was always so controlled. When I leaned down to replace my fingers with my mouth, he let out a sound that was almost a growl.
“No,” he said, pulling me back up. “I can’t take it. I need you. Now.”
The desperation in his voice sparked something wild inside me. In one fluid movement, I reversed our positions, pressing him into the soft ground between the vines. I straddled him, our eyes locked in a silent dialogue.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands gripping my hips as I slowly lowered myself onto him, our bodies fitting together perfectly.
The air left my lungs at the sensation of being completely filled. For a moment, we stayed still, absorbing the connection, the intimacy of it.
Then I began to move, slowly at first, setting a rhythm that had us moaning in unison. Sweat glistened on our skin under the moonlight, the scent of the vines mingling with the perfume of our desire.
“Christian,” I moaned, feeling him completely inside me.
“I know,” he answered, his eyes never leaving mine as his body moved in harmony with mine.
We didn’t need to name what was happening. It was too intense for words. It was pure sensation-every touch, every sigh, every heartbeat racing in sync.
As the rhythm quickened, I lost myself in the sight of Christian beneath me, his face transformed by pleasure, muscles taut, hair tousled. He was glorious.
Sensing the shift in my breathing, Christian moved. With a skilled motion, he rolled us over, keeping us joined, pressing me into the soft ground as he took control.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough. “I want to see you.”
I kept my eyes locked on his as his movements grew deeper, harder. The pleasure built like a storm, a force of nature impossible to contain.
“Zoey,” he groaned my name like a prayer as we reached the edge.
“Christian,” I cried out, my nails digging into his back as the universe exploded behind my eyes.
We fell together into the abyss, our bodies trembling in a synchronized dance of ecstasy. Christian buried his face in my neck, shuddering against me, whispering my name over and over like an incantation.
For several minutes, we stayed entwined, our breathing slowly evening out, our hearts finding the same rhythm. The night breeze caressed our damp skin, carrying the sweet scent of ripe grapes.
Christian rolled to the side, pulling me against his chest. I nestled there, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the earth beneath us, the starry sky above, the vines surrounding us.
“These vineyards really are like you,” he murmured sleepily, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.” Sweet, surprising… irresistible.”
I smiled against his skin, sleep tugging at me. I fought the heaviness in my eyelids, wanting to preserve this perfect moment in my memory.
“Sleep,” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
It was a simple promise, limited only to the morning ahead. But as I drifted into sleep, cradled in Christian’s arms beneath the Castorian stars, surrounded by the vineyards that bore my name, I let myself believe it could mean something more.
I woke to the warmth of the Castorian sun on my face, a sharp contrast to the cool morning breeze. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, soaking in the peacefulness wrapping around me. Christian’s body was pressed against mine, his heat a comforting shield against the world. Then I noticed something strange-voices. Several voices, speaking rapid Valentian, close by.
My eyes flew open, panic crashing over me like a bucket of cold water. We were still in the vineyard, completely exposed! A quick movement beside me told me Christian was already awake. He had tossed his torn shirt over me, covering me only barely.
“Good morning,” he said, sounding annoyingly calm for someone who’d just been caught sleeping naked in the middle of his vineyard by his workers.
“Christian!” I hissed, tugging the shirt higher to cover more of myself. “There are people here!”
He smiled, a half-amused grin that, in any other situation, would have melted me on the spot.
“Yes, I noticed. The workers arrive at dawn to tend the vines.”
“And you’re perfectly fine with this?” I demanded, mortified, as I tried to spot my lingerie and dress without revealing more of myself.
“After their initial shock when they saw us, no one dared come closer,” he replied, running a hand through his tousled hair. “They’re actually keeping a respectful distance.”
I craned my neck and saw he was right. A few rows away, men and women worked quietly among the vines, deliberately avoiding looking in our direction.
“Why didn’t you wake me so we could leave?” I asked, still struggling to process just how humiliating this was.
Christian reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face with surprising tenderness.
“Because you were sleeping so peacefully,” he said simply. “I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.”
Something in his gaze disarmed me completely. He seemed different this morning-more open, more vulnerable somehow.
“I was dreaming,” I admitted, heat rising up my neck. “Something good.”
“With me in it, I hope,” he teased, leaning closer.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.