YELLOW

PART 13

"Where are we going?" Olivia pulled me by the arm, laughter bubbling between us like two carefree children as we approached a grand house.

"Shh! Do you want us to get caught?" she whispered urgently, kneeling behind a bush. I raised an eyebrow at her, my heart racing with excitement.

Her eyes darted around as she tugged me again, leading us to a massive villa gate. With a swift motion, she kicked off her heels, sending them flying to the side, and began to climb over the gate, her dress billowing around her. I stood there, momentarily captivated, watching her graceful ascent.

"Are you coming or what?" she called back, rolling her eyes playfully while retrieving her heels.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets, hesitating. "Isn't this a crime?" I murmured, but she shot me an exasperated look.

"Alright, Prince William, then stay there," she teased, starting to walk away. Instinctively, I felt a surge of determination and scrambled over the gate, racing after her. "Wait!" I called out as she turned slightly, a smirk dancing on her lips, clearly pleased that I had followed her.

"Do you know these people?" I asked as she gracefully walked along the edge of the pool, arms extended for balance.

"No, that's the fun part!" she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, biting my lower lip as I took a few cautious steps closer to her. Just then, she paused, turning to face me, and playfully tousled my hair.

"It would be a shame if... this lovely hair of yours got ruined," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes. Before I could react, she yanked me by my collar and pulled me into the pool with her.

As we emerged from the water, I flicked my hair back, pressing my fingers against my eyes to clear away the droplets. Olivia was swimming away, her laughter echoing loudly, and I chased after her, attempting to catch her several times before finally grabbing her leg. I pulled her toward me, both of us laughing as I playfully pushed her underwater. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Our eyes locked, and the water dripped slowly from our soaked hair. My hand gently moved to her cheek, brushing her hair aside. She bit her lip, and the silence around us was broken only by the gentle sounds of the water. I leaned in closer, pressing my lips to hers, feeling her hands exploring my shirt before she removed it. I tore her dress open, clothes scattered out of the pool until we were both completely naked, her body pressed against mine.

I walked her toward the wall, pinning her against it. As our bodies melded together, she deftly unfastened my belt, until every piece of clothing was gone. Our foreheads touched, and my tongue explored every angle of her mouth as I felt her body brush against mine, until I was inside her, moving rhythmically. Each thrust felt euphoric, her moans filled the air, mingling with my groans. It felt as though I was meant to be with her.

It was an intense and exhilarating experience to climax inside her, right there in the water. It was wild, yet that was Olivia—Miss Bourgeois at her finest.

Time passed, and we found ourselves out of the pool, sitting naked at the edge. I couldn't keep my hands off her; it was as if my skin craved hers endlessly.

As the lights flicked on, she whispered, "Oh God, Marcus." I grinned at her words and replied softly, "I know I have that effect on people." She laughed gently, pulling me toward the house as the lights illuminated our surroundings. Panic set in, and before I realized it, Olivia was already gathering her clothes and making a swift exit. I quickly followed, clutching our soaked clothes to my chest as she reached out for my hand.

As we ran, we grabbed a few random garments strewn about, not knowing who they belonged to.

"Hey! Come back! Help! 911!" the homeowner shouted after us.

The whole scene felt like a high school adventure, the kind of reckless thrill Olivia always brought into my life. Time seemed to freeze whenever we were together.

We finally reached a corner and paused, leaning against the wall to catch our breath, laughing as if we had lost our minds. And perhaps we had.

I glanced at the yellow dress she held and whispered, "Can I?" I squeezed it lightly before draping one of the shirts we'd taken around her. It was long enough to cover all the essential parts.

"You want me to go to prison this young and beautiful?" I whispered, placing the dress over my shoulder and slipping into a pair of random shorts we found. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, "I want to be the prison you never escape from."

The door slammed shut, and I lay on the bed, feeling a mix of anxiety and concern. Anastasia had just returned from her visit, and she looked utterly devastated. She sank onto the bed and reached under the mattress, pulling out a small plastic fork. My heart raced as I realized her intention—she was about to harm herself.

I quickly turned around, leaping off the bed and rushing toward her. "What the hell are you doing?" I exclaimed, snatching the fork from her trembling hands as she shouted at me, "Let go of me! Just let me go!" I held her wrists firmly, desperate to keep her from hurting herself. Tears streamed down her face as she collapsed against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

I held her close, offering what comfort I could until I felt her begin to calm down. Gently, I pressed my lips to her forehead, hoping to convey my support. I sensed that she was hesitant to share what had happened during her visit, but I was determined to try.

I helped her sit up and settled down beside her, turning my body to face her fully. "What happened?" I asked softly. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, her eyes locking onto mine. "Please, tell me what happened," I whispered again, urging her to open up.

Before I knew it, her lips found mine in an unexpected kiss. I was frozen, caught off guard. Part of me wanted to push her away, to maintain the boundaries we had, but another part—a deeper, more primal part—urged me to embrace the moment. It was time to let myself feel.

The kiss lingered between us, a moment suspended in time. Her eyes remained closed, and I watched as she softly licked her lower lip, a gesture that deepened the tension in the air. When our gazes finally met, the intensity was palpable, yet neither of us had the courage to articulate what had just transpired. Perhaps we were both afraid to confront the reality of it—at least, I was.

"Hades," she murmured suddenly.

I was momentarily confused until she clarified, "My boyfriend. He came."

Her boyfriend? The revelation struck me like a cold wave. Just moments ago, she had kissed me, and now she was mentioning him. My mind raced, but I couldn't voice my thoughts. It didn't feel right to question her in that moment, so I simply nodded, trying to suppress the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I shifted, rising from her bed to sit on mine, facing her.

"He's a jerk," she continued, as if she felt the need to justify what had just happened. But words eluded me. Memories of Olivia flooded my mind, overshadowing any sense of clarity I might have had. All that remained were echoes of past hurt, making it hard to respond.

"He doesn't understand that we're not together anymore," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "He's the one who put these scars on my back." In that moment, she revealed her vulnerability, exposing the fragility she often masked.

Our eyes locked, an unspoken connection forming between us. It felt as if she was inviting me into her world, and I sensed that I was in the front row of a tumultuous journey.