The yacht glided gently into the private dock, the sound of waves and seabirds casting a tranquil spell over the secluded island. Victoria brought the vessel to a halt, her movements precise. As the gangplank descended, workers approached with practiced ease to take over, offering courteous bows and smiles. James alighted beside her, his gaze sweeping over the lush greenery and sun-drenched coast. His mouth parted slightly.
"Wow."
Victoria didn't speak. She watched him, his awe, the way his eyes soaked in the landscape like it was made just for him. A strange, dizzying warmth settled low in her belly. She wondered to herself if love was this: losing herself to someone else but at the same time feeling whole and better than ever. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his and guided him to the waiting vehicle.
The ride up to the resort house was smooth and silent, tension simmering beneath each glance. James felt it like an electric hum. Victoria remained composed, smiling gently, her thumb rubbing slow circles on his hand. He didn't understand why she hadn't made a move. All morning, all throughout the yacht trip, she had been affectionate but restrained, nothing like the woman who had taken him to pieces hours earlier. He thought maybe something was wrong but what though? Her composure tortured him more than his thought.
They arrived at the resort house. Glass walls, stone accents, panoramic ocean views. Inside was breathtaking as she toured him but James barely had the chance to admire it. Victoria turned to him, smile playful and eyes gleaming.
"This entire getaway staycation... is your birthday treat," she announced, gesturing to the elegant surroundings.
James blinked. His chest warmed. He grinned and pulled her into a tight hug, voice husky. "I'm so happy. I love it... Thank you for this, for everything. I can't believe you did all this for me."
Victoria cupped his face, "You deserve more."
Eyes soft and unreadable. "Come."
She led him into a bedroom and turned to face him. Her fingers slid over his chest, found his jacket and tugged it off. His shirt followed, one button at a time with deliberate slowness. James stood still, pulse quickening with each button undone. His heartbeat racing, anticipation flooding every nerve. Her touch was light, teasing. He was secretly elated and anticipated her next moves with growing excitement. He had wondered why Victoria hadn't demanded more physical intimacy, knowing her, the restraint she exercised was completely foreign to her nature. Now that she was removing his clothes, he felt at ease and desperately wanted to feel her again.
When his shirt finally fell away, she placed both hands on his chest and gave him a gentle push. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs parted. She climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs, her hands dragging up his torso.
His hands instinctively moved to her thighs, resting at her hips very naturally. Accepting her, accepting whatever she wanted to do. His body responded immediately to her proximity. He looked up at her with naked hunger.
However, his expectations were completely different and way off as Victoria produced a pen.
James blinked. "What…?"
She began to draw.
Lines. Shapes. Symbols. Designs. She sat directly on the hard bulge in his pants, and James couldn't believe what was happening. He bit the inside of his cheek. To say he was not disappointed would be a lie. He was certain she felt the prominent bulge but didn't even flinch at his arousal beneath her. Worse, she kept moving, her hips slightly shifting as she drew, making it impossible not to feel every inch of him straining against his shorts.
His mind raced. He didn't understand. Before, he had been so cautious and careful not to let her feel how much he wanted her, how easily his body responded to her but now it was different. He'd been intimate with her, she'd seen all of him and vice-versa. She was practically seated on his arousal, calm as ever, drawing and ignoring it.
Why wasn't she acting on it?
He felt like a man lost in a labyrinth of her making.
Victoria could hear the mental cogs spinning in his head and smirked knowingly. She continued with her art, her touch feather light yet maddening against his heated skin.
James, unable to bear the sweet strain any longer, held Victoria's hand.
"Tori..."
She responded, not looking up. "Yes?"
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice rough with need.
"Drawing tattoos," she replied casual, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
James gritted his jaw. He wasn't asking about the drawings. "I…" he started but shut his mouth, repressing his true inner thoughts.
"What was that?" she questioned, tilting her head curiously.
He shook his head. Victoria gave him a smile and rubbed her nose lovingly against his, pretending like she didn't understand what he meant, as if she had no clue the storm she was stirring. James sat in his own disappointment and allowed her to do whatever to his body. After a while, she got up and led him to a full-length mirror to see her artwork.
James stood before it, expression unreadable. Inked designs trailed across his arms, chest, even his neck. He stared uninterested at the fake tattoos she had drawn and raised a brow, he never knew she could draw. Victoria stood beside him and grinned.
"For the theme of your birthday, I wanted you to be a bad boy." The way she dragged out 'bad boy' nearly undid him.
James felt something pulse inside him. That slow drawl. That mischievous glint. He hadn't even realized he was staring at her with a heated look, one full of desire. Seeing such fired look made Victoria's thighs clench involuntarily, fluids soaking up her panties she wondered if it could contain any more moisture pooling between her legs and sure enough, she felt her arousal drip down her thighs. She had been on edge since breakfast, aching, soaked, and waiting.
Victoria's breath caught as she struggled to control her raging impulse. She tore her eyes away from him and instead looked at the mirror displaying her artwork. "You've got the face and body to pull it off, but your personality is a huge giveaway. So...for today, act mean like the bad boy you are while I play the soft good girl."
Saying this, she took his hand and pulled him into the bathroom. She helped style his hair, applied skincare, then dressed him up in black slacks and a tight, sleeveless tank with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, the complete bad boy ensemble. The tiny natural mole on his face was everything, a game changer. He looked sharp. Wicked. Dangerous.
Victoria's core pulsed. She was regretting taking him out like this.
Victoria got ready too and then led James to the resort center where they had lunch. She took him to other locations around the island. They explored hiking trails, visited a local jewelry store, and played beach volleyball. They had fun together, hand in hand. Wherever they passed, people turned back to give them a second look. They were a gorgeous pair and looked wonderful together.