It was the kind of summer night where the air hummed with heat and anticipation. Soft cicada sounds filled the void between moments, while the distant waves whispered along the shoreline. Clara stood on the balcony of the beachside villa, her white dress flowing against her legs as the sea breeze embraced her skin. A glass of wine hung loosely in her fingers, beads of condensation running down the stem.
She watched the horizon where the sun had just disappeared, leaving a crimson trail melting into shades of violet. It was her escape—this remote seaside villa. Somewhere far from the expectations, the routines, and the aching loneliness that no one ever seemed to notice behind her perfect smile.
Tonight, however, Clara wasn’t alone.
“You seem lost in thought,” a deep voice broke through the quiet rhythm of the night.
She turned her head slowly, finding Michael leaning in the doorway. His presence was magnetic. The tailored linen shirt, slightly undone at the collar, framed the strong line of his chest, while the stubble shadowing his jaw added to his effortless allure. His dark hair, slightly tousled, begged her fingers to trace through it—and maybe get lost there.
Clara felt her pulse quicken. “I didn’t hear you come out.”
Michael grinned, stepping onto the balcony. He walked with a confidence that came naturally to him, yet there was softness in the way he approached her. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He stood beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. The scent of him—sandalwood, a hint of salt, and something purely him—made her throat tighten.
They had spent the day together—talking, laughing, teasing—but now, under the cover of night, the energy between them felt different. It was no longer innocent.
“Tell me something,” Michael murmured, his voice a low rumble that ignited sparks beneath her skin. “What brought you here, Clara? Away from everything?”
Clara hesitated, searching his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes, framed by dark lashes, had already seen through so much of her facade.
“I needed to feel alive again,” she admitted softly, her voice barely carried by the breeze.
“And do you?” he asked, turning to face her fully. His fingers brushed against her hand, featherlight but intentional. The touch sent a jolt through her body, her breath catching in her chest.
Clara looked up at him. “I think I’m starting to.”
A moment passed between them, a moment thick with promise—one neither of them wanted to break. Clara licked her lips, and Michael’s gaze dropped to her mouth, darkening with something primal.
“Michael…” she whispered.
That was all it took. In a heartbeat, Michael closed the distance, his hands cradling her face as his lips claimed hers. The kiss was soft at first, testing, teasing—but the restraint didn’t last long. A shiver raced down Clara’s spine as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against hers. She melted into him, her arms winding around his neck, her hands tangling in his hair just as she’d imagined.
The villa disappeared. The world disappeared. There was only Michael—his kiss, his touch, the heat that surged between them like wildfire.
“Clara,” he groaned softly against her lips, his breath warm. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his thumb brushing across her flushed cheek. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
But Clara didn’t want him to stop. She shook her head, her voice raw with desire. “Don’t stop.”
Michael’s eyes darkened further. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her back into the villa. The soft glow of candles and moonlight bathed the room in gold and silver hues. He set her down on the bed with care, as though she were something precious, fragile. But the fire in his gaze told her he was anything but gentle in his intentions.
Clara leaned up, pulling him down to her. Their lips met again, and this time, there was no hesitation. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her waist, her hips. Everywhere his touch landed, heat followed. She arched into him, her body a slave to the sensations he sparked within her.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down her neck, pausing where her pulse raced wildly beneath her skin.
Clara’s fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, her movements urgent. She wanted to see him—all of him. The shirt fell to the floor, revealing his toned body, sculpted from years of dedication. She traced her hands over his chest, feeling the strength beneath his skin. Michael groaned softly, catching her wrists and pinning them above her head.
“My turn,” he growled playfully.
Clara’s laughter quickly turned into a gasp as Michael’s lips moved lower, exploring her body with reverence and hunger. He worshiped her—every inch of her—until she was lost in him, her body trembling, her mind unraveling.
Time stood still. The night stretched endlessly around them as they gave themselves to each other completely. Outside, the waves crashed against the shore, a wild symphony that matched the rhythm of their hearts.
When it was over, Clara lay curled against Michael’s side, his arm wrapped around her protectively. The air still crackled between them, but now it was softer, gentler.
“Do you feel alive now?” he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Clara smiled, her heart full. “Yes,” she whispered. “You make me feel alive.”
Michael pulled her closer, holding her as though he would never let go.
And as the stars watched over them, two souls that had once felt lost found something real—something undeniable—in each other.
ROSE