As May stepped aboard the yacht, her breath caught at the sight before her. Lanterns strung up around the deck cast a soft, golden glow over the setup. The table was elegantly arranged with crystal glasses and fine china, overlooking the ocean, where the setting sun painted the water in hues of pink and gold. Lucien held her hand firmly, his gaze warm as he guided her, supporting her as she climbed up, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.
When they reached the table, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on her fingers. She smiled, feeling a bit like she was in a fairytale. A private chef stepped forward, serving perfectly cooked steak paired with a bottle of sweet wine that seemed to melt on her tongue. They dined under the open sky, sharing pieces of their lives in a way that felt surprisingly intimate. May told him about her move to the city and about her mom, who had been her biggest supporter and her closest friend. She left out the tougher parts, knowing she didn't need Lucien's pity—just his company.
Lucien's usual formality softened as he listened, his shoulders relaxing, a light smile tugging at his lips. He laughed, truly laughed, as she animatedly shared stories, her hands moving as she spoke, bringing each tale to life. She noticed how he seemed genuinely entertained, his laughter deep and rich, and for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world.
When dinner ended, Lucien took her hand, guiding her to the front of the yacht. She perched on the edge, reaching down to slip off her heels, but before she could, he knelt down with a charming smile. "Allow me," he murmured, sliding each shoe off with a tender touch. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
As she stood to join him, she reached up to loosen her hair, releasing her blonde curls from the pin that had been holding them in place. She let out a small laugh, sighing in relief. "I'm sorry, but it was giving me a headache," she chuckled.
Lucien moved closer, his gaze locked on her, a fire simmering in his eyes. "You are so beautiful, mi amore," he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand found her cheek, and before she could respond, his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss.
Their breaths mingled as they kissed, hot and hungry, as if they'd both been waiting for this moment far too long. His hand slid into her hair, pulling her closer, while her hands traced over his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his suit. When they finally parted, his thumb brushed over her swollen lips, his eyes dark with intensity. "I've been wanting to do that for a while now," he murmured, his voice a bit rough. "And now...l think I'm addicted."
May's breath hitched, her cheeks flushed and her curls wild, still escaping from the pin. She felt like a woman on fire, and as she looked up at him, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun.
