Three years ago…
Narrator
It was a Monday morning, and the whole country was enjoying a public holiday. In the bedroom, Bianca and Elizabeth were sprawled out talking girlish stuff while Elizabeth busied herself packing.
Bianca couldn't stop going on about her endless nights out with her boyfriend, Antoni. These days, you could barely find her at home — she was always with him, soaking up "quality time" in every possible form. Clubbing, gaming, touring, flying, swimming — the list seemed never-ending.
"God, that was the best sex of my life," Bianca gushed, a sly glint in her eyes. "Damn, he's an expert in bed. He gave it to me any way I wanted — in the bathroom, kitchen, gym room, in the car, you name it. We almost had it every day. So many rounds in a single day." She giggled, utterly shameless.
"Jesus, Bianca." Elizabeth shot her a look while forcing clothes into her bag. "Can you please stop talking about sex and help me pack up? Obrigado."
With a mischievous smile, Bianca finally moved to help. "Are you really going to spend a whole week at Sebastian's place?"
"Yes."
A devilish grin spread across Bianca's lips. "Damn, this is good. So good."
Elizabeth frowned. "Why?"
"Nothing," Bianca said innocently, though her grin betrayed her. "I just don't want you to mess things up, you know. Do you need me to give you guidelines — like, give you some lessons on how to put it in?"
Elizabeth stared at her in confusion. "Put what?"
"The—"
"Sebastian's been downstairs waiting for you, Lizzy," Natasha announced as she walked into the room, dropping herself onto the bed. She hadn't been home the night before, and a constellation of hickeys was scattered across her neck.
Bianca squealed like she'd just spotted a puppy. "Girl, you're a bitch." She plopped down beside Natasha. When Natasha leaned in to whisper something, Bianca squealed even louder. "Damn, I love guys with zero stamina in bed. Boom! The flash."
Elizabeth's patience thinned. "Hey, can you guys just cut it out? This discussion is getting annoying already."
Natasha and Bianca exchanged a glance — and promptly burst into laughter.
"Fine, forget about it." Elizabeth yanked her bag's zipper closed in frustration, only for it to jam and break. "Argh! Everything is just so annoying."
Bianca draped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, girl, take it easy on the zipper."
"The zipper…" Natasha repeated slowly, wiggling her brows at Bianca.
As if on cue, Bianca gasped dramatically. "The zipper! Damn, girl, you're so in the mood."
Elizabeth looked at the two of them like they'd left their brains soaking in the kitchen sink.
"Leo killed me last night. I even said hello to my grandpa in heaven," Natasha winked.
"If I were you," Bianca said with mock seriousness, "I'd still be stuck to him like a leech in bed until he cleared up the five years of zero sex I missed. One night isn't enough."
"I know, right?" Natasha pretended to wince in pain. "But I've got a surprise for you, bitch. We're going nonstop tonight."
Bianca squealed again and jumped on the bed, high-fiving Natasha in celebration. "You're a bad girl."
Elizabeth covered her ears against the noise spilling into the room. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
Their voices followed her. "Good luck!" they called in unison, laughter trailing after.
Outside the condominium, Sebastian was leaning casually against his red Ferrari — the newest model of the year — eyes fixed on his phone.
He didn't notice her approaching until the last moment. At once, he tucked his phone away and moved to take her bag.
But she resisted. "It's okay, I can manage."
"I don't want to argue or fight with you. Just let me have it," he said, voice low and calm.
She finally relented, handing him the heavy bag.
He gave a mock groan. "Geez, this weighs more than ten million pounds."
She smiled faintly, resisting the urge to chuckle. "Stop making jokes. I don't feel like laughing."
"You should — often." He tossed the bag into the trunk. "You'll be living with Mr. Joker for a whole week, remember? Laughter is the best medicine."
"Coming from the host himself." She snorted. "You barely laugh too — and the only time you do is when you're around me."
He guided her into the passenger seat before circling to his side. "People laugh when they're full of joy. And you give me joy."
For a moment, she thought about his last line.
She gives him joy? How? By making him laugh all the time or what?
The engine purred to life, and he eased the car into the highway.
---
Elizabeth had just finished her evening bath and slipped into a simple pink silk nightgown that barely brushed her knees. The fabric clung lightly to her curves, the neckline dipping low enough for her breasts and cleavage to tease the air.
She stood before the vanity mirror, slowly working lavender-scented oil into her long, foot-length hair. The fragrance mingled with the faint cool freshness of the evening, wrapping the room in something both calming and intoxicating.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," she called, eyes still fixed on her reflection.
The door eased open, and Sebastian stepped in, dressed in pajamas—only to freeze mid-step. His jaw went slack, eyes wide.
He simply stood there, as if her presence had pulled the air straight out of his lungs.
Elizabeth, still drawing her hair to one side in slow, deliberate strokes, turned to see who it was. "Oh, hi," she greeted, smiling faintly.
But Sebastian said nothing. Words seemed to have abandoned him entirely. In that moment, the world held nothing else worth noticing—just her.
His gaze burned hotter the longer it lingered, dragging from the shine of her hair, to the slope of her collarbone, down over her breasts, her cleavage, the curve of her waist, until it reached the pale length of her legs. It was as if his eyes were stripping her bare, piece by piece.
"Sebastian?" Her voice broke into his daze.
He blinked hard, shaking himself from the fantasy. "Hi."
"Are you okay?" There was genuine concern in her tone, though her brow furrowed in mild confusion.
Okay? He wanted to laugh. Seeing her like this was anything but okay. His body was already betraying him—heat surging, desire pressing insistently beneath his pajama pants. He forced his gaze back up, though it kept falling.
"No—yeah," he managed, the words tripping over each other as his eyes, almost against his will, dipped once more to her chest… then her thighs. God, those thighs. He imagined his mouth there, tasting her, hearing her gasp—
He swallowed hard.
How could she be this beautiful? How could she hoard this kind of beauty, letting no one else have it? She was a drug—pure, dangerous, addictive—and right now, all he wanted was to lose himself in her until she couldn't move.
"Dinner will be ready in five minutes," he finally said, voice lower than before.
She nodded, and he left before he could make a fool of himself.
The moment the door shut, Sebastian strode straight into his bathroom, shutting it firmly behind him. The beast clawing at his control was too strong now, his blood too hot.
It didn't take long before his hand moved in desperate rhythm, chasing relief. Minutes passed in ragged gasps until his knees nearly gave out. He had pushed himself to the brink—and it still didn't feel like enough.
---
It had been ten minutes since Elizabeth settled into the dining chair, waiting for Sebastian to come downstairs.
Her gaze drifted over the array of dishes spread across the table—steaming, colorful, and almost too much for two people. Fingers laced together in her lap, she wondered who could possibly finish all these delicacies.
Fifteen minutes later, Sebastian finally appeared, pulling out the chair adjacent to hers and sitting down.
"You haven't started eating?" he asked when he noticed her untouched plate.
Elizabeth shrugged lightly, reaching for the serving spoons. "I was waiting for you." She dished generous portions onto both their plates, sliding one toward him before taking one for herself. "Let's pray."
She closed her eyes, palms clasped together.
Sebastian… didn't.
Prayer wasn't something he knew how to do. Whenever she called for it, he simply stayed silent and let her speak. But tonight, there was something hypnotic in the gentle rhythm of her voice. That soft, delicate tone—humble yet warm—drew him in every time.
He found his gaze fixed on her face… then inevitably, on the curve of her chest, the same place that had been tormenting him all evening. Even after his earlier release, the heat hadn't left him. If anything, it had sharpened—self-love wasn't enough. Not tonight. He needed more.
"Father Lord, we thank You for the opportunity to eat again. Bless this food and sanctify it for Your sake. Also, provide for those who do not have to eat. In Jesus' name, amen."
Elizabeth opened her eyes, only to find him watching her intently.
"Sebastian, you didn't say anything."
"Hmm?—uh? Oh, I did." The lie came quickly, but not smoothly.
"You didn't say amen. I didn't hear you." She poured water into their glasses and slid his toward him. "Here."
He took it with a nod. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."