The warm sea splashes up, the soles of his feet slamming on the sand beneath. My hair’s drenched within seconds. Long, wet strands swaying to the beat of his feet. The tips brushing the water.
Now, waist deep, my nose is a smidge above the water line. I hang there; his strong hands hold my thighs tight. He doesn’t move, just stands, silent. The excitement heightening as I wait for him to make his move.
“What’s it worth?” he asks, feigning authority. “Your freedom?”
I don’t reply. If this is a hostage situation, he can make me talk. One hand snakes up my leg, a finger hooking around my bikini thong. He pulls, and it flexes to the point I think it may snap.
“Tell me,” he growls. “Or the thong gets it.”
“I don’t negotiate with kidnappers.” My voice is haughty. My best posh accent in place. “I’ll take the punishment.” The material snaps with a single flick.
He slides me forward a little, the tip of my nose submerging. “Final warning.”
It’s a stand-off. One I’ve come to love. Him taking control of my body, contorting me into his desired shape, then pretending I have a choice in the matter. On days like today, I’m happy to be his modeling clay. It always works out well for me in the end.
“Do your worst,” I tell him.
Suddenly, I’m upright. We’re face to face as his knees bend, sending us both below the water. With moments to spare, I take a breath as we go under, the ocean swallowing me whole.
He holds my waist firm. Tight enough that I know he’ll never let go. So many things Ivan does show me that he’ll never let go. Every day, I feel a little more secure. Centered. And where I’m meant to be.
My eyes open. He’s framed in the icy blue of the ocean, a school of yellow fish his backing dancers. His eye blaze even brighter, hot and full of need. Then he smiles, the one that can cause my knickers to melt in a beat.
He leans in for a kiss, and I run out of air. Kicking frantically upward, bursting through the surface, I gasp. I was so mesmerized, I’d forgotten I needed to breathe. The salty air fills my lungs, and I breathe deep. Not only needing the oxygen, but to center the reality of where I am. Sometimes, I blink to make sure I’m not dreaming.
His dark hair pops through the water first, then he’s facing me, attempting poorly to hide his amusement. Ivan’s poker face needs some work.
“I believe you need to work on your breathing techniques, sweetheart,” he murmurs. Lips twisting.
“You can’t breathe under water,” I shoot back.
“No.” He shrugs, then pauses. “But learning to hold your breath for the right moment is important…”
Large hands splay over my ass as he lifts me onto his waist. My legs wrap around him, instinctively. His need for me obvious between my legs, I grind, just a little.
“Sometimes,” he says. “Knowing when to hold your breath can heighten one’s experience. It’s important for your health.”
I laugh. His lips flutter over my chest. Needy. “For my health?”
“Yes.” His gaze locks onto mine. “Happiness is essential for good health. Both of us know that.”
It’s true. Ivan and I have both been in peak physical condition for years. We’ve watched what we ate, trained until we slept, and taken supplements like candy. But no amount of health made our happiness. What made us happy was each other. Our presence. Our companionship.
“And I very much enjoy ensuring you’re kept in good health, sweetheart.”
Later, we’re preparing for dinner when he comes up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I’m sitting in my bikini, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Tonight, it is a simple barbeque on the beach. No staff. No extras. Just a wood fire, grilled meat, and each other. Ivan gathered wood from the nearby trees this afternoon.
He hadn’t wanted to stay in the cave house. But I insisted.
The mansion doesn’t feel like home. Here, our little obscure paradise does. This is where we truly began. Here in Thailand iswhere Ivan Harley learned how to love and I accepted there was a life beyond my failed marriage to Terry.
It may be simple, but it signifies so much.
I’d never want to stay anywhere else.
His fingertips squeeze my shoulders, and he smiles. Our eyes meet in the mirror. My heart flutters. It still takes my breath away the way he affects me—daily. Every meeting, every touch, every kiss, cements us even more. This man is the one for me. My soulmate.
“Will you allow me to ravish you in the master bedroom one day?” he asks, his eyebrow arching. “I can promise it will be worth it.”
