Saraphina gasped as she felt him enter her.
The pain bloomed fast and sharp, tearing through her like a lightning bolt. Her body tensed. She clutched the sheets beneath her. Her knuckles pale. For a fleeting second, she wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop. But then—
His lips found hers.
He kissed her slowly, gently, like he was pouring all his tenderness into her trembling body. His hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb brushing the tear that slipped free from the corner of her eye. His mouth moved against hers again, coaxing her, calming her, kissing the pain away. And as his body began to move, a new feeling stirred in her.
Her eyes rolled back as she felt the ecstasy.
It started as a flicker—small, uncertain. But then it spread, wave after wave, until it rose and crashed through her with every motion. She clung to him, breathless, overwhelmed by everything—his scent, his warmth, the low groan that rumbled from his throat when she moaned his name.
She was losing herself in him. She moaned softly, helpless to the way he made her feel.
"Chris—"
Before the name left her lips fully, his hand came up—gently but firmly—covering her mouth.
And he did—over and over again. His rhythm deepened, grew more desperate, more possessive. Each movement was a declaration, a vow, a raw need that left no room for doubt. Her body arched into him, responding to his every touch like a flame to air.
He left no part of her untouched.
His mouth roamed her skin, branding her with soft bites and hot kisses. Her breasts were worshipped under his tongue. His hands caressed her hips, her thighs, her back—firm and slow, like he was memorising the shape of her.
Even when he paused, he stayed buried deep inside her, his chest rising and falling against hers, his mouth gently sucking at the sensitive tip of her nipple, making her shudder again.
She was his.
Entirely his.
In the dark, tangled warmth of the night, Saraphina felt safe, wanted and loved.
She had been too worried that he wouldn't like how fat she is because of what he said before.
He must love me, she thought, dazed, overwhelmed, her fingers stroking his damp hair. No one touches someone like this without love.
They made love until she couldn't count the times. Until her body trembled and her voice cracked. Until the world fell away, and there was only the sound of their breathing, their hearts, their whispers in the dark.
When he finally collapsed beside her, spent and silent, he pulled her close. Skin to skin. His arms wrapped tightly around her as if he never wanted to let go.
She didn't remember falling asleep.
But she remembered feeling full. Not just in body—but in heart. In soul.
She slept with a smile on her lips..
Morning came too early.
A soft shaft of sunlight slipped through the curtains and landed across her bare shoulder. Saraphina stirred, stretching with a soft sigh. The bed was warm around her, the sheets tangled in her legs, and her body ached in the most intimate places.
She reached out sleepily, expecting to feel the solid warmth of Christian's chest.
But her hand landed on empty sheets.
Her eyes opened slowly. She blinked, confused, then sat up.
The space beside her was cold.
"Christian?" she called softly, her voice still thick with sleep.
No answer.
She scanned the room. His clothes were gone. No sound came from the bathroom.
She checked the door—it wasn't locked.
She stepped out into the hallway, her body wrapped in a sheet, and peeked around.
It was empty.
Gone without a note. Without a goodbye. Not even a whisper on the pillow.
Her heart gave a tiny lurch, but she caught herself. Maybe he just went to work. She nodded to herself, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face. He's busy.
He didn't want to wake me. That's all.
Still…
She walked to the mirror above the dresser. The sheet slipped slightly from her shoulder as she stared at her reflection.
Her lips were swollen, kiss-bruised. Her skin glowed faintly, flushed from hours of shared heat. But what caught her breath—what made her face burn—were the marks.
It looked like Roa rose
Scattered across her body like a trail. His mouth had left them—beneath her collarbone, along her ribs, at the curve of her hip. They looked like strawberries blooming on her pale skin.
Saraphina bit her lip and touched one gently, her cheeks flooding with colour
He touched every part of me.
She blushed harder, the memories crashing back like a wave—his voice, his breath, his weight pressing into hers. Her legs trembled faintly from the memory.
Her smile was soft.
Even if he wasn't here now, the night had been real. She could still feel him everywhere.
She pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart was still racing.
But as the light grew brighter and the emptiness around her stretched on, a sliver of unease began to curl in her chest.
Why had he left without a word?
Her chest tightened. A strange feeling she couldn't name stirred inside her. Her heart beat faster, louder, too loud for such a calm morning.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked it. She scrolled through for Christian's name, clicked on it and pressed "Call."
The phone rang once… twice…
Then: "The number you're trying to call is currently unreachable."
She froze.
Her heart dropped a little, but she quickly shook off the unease trying to take root in her chest. Maybe he was in a meeting.
Maybe his phone died.
Still…
She bit her lip and went to her recent calls. Her thumb hovered, then tapped on the contact for Liam—Christian's long-time assistant.
The call connected after a few rings.
"Hello?" Liam's voice sounded alert, as always.
"Good morning, Liam," Saraphina said, trying to keep her voice light. "Is Christian… at the office? I—I couldn't reach him."
There was a pause.
Then Liam replied, "Oh. Uh… Miss, we're actually on a business trip right now. We left very early this morning. It was a last-minute flight."
Saraphina blinked. "A business trip?"
"Yes, miss," Liam said quickly. "Urgent. A client from Dubai insisted on an in-person meeting. We barely had time to pack. Christian didn't even sleep a wink last night. He finally dozed off just an hour ago."
Saraphina's breath caught.
He hadn't slept?
Her face flushed as the memory of the night flooded her all over again—his touch, his mouth, the way he moved like he couldn't get enough of her.
So that's why…
He must've left right after. Gone without waking her because he knew she needed rest. And now he was catching up on sleep himself. That was so like him—always thinking of her.
She smiled and touched her lips unconsciously, her cheeks warm. "Alright… thank you, Liam."
"Of course, ma'am," he replied. "Have a good morning."
She hung up, the phone slipping from her fingers as she leaned back on the bed, her heart fluttering.
He hadn't slept because of her.
Because they couldn't stop touching each other.
Saraphina let out a breathless laugh, hugging the pillow to her chest. The soreness in her body made sense now. He had been insatiable. Wild, even. A little rougher than usual… but she hadn't minded. She had felt wanted and loved.
"I must've driven him crazy," she whispered to herself, burying her face in the pillow.
She felt light as air.
But what Saraphina didn't know… was what happened after the call ended.
Liam ended the call and lowered the phone slowly. The room he stood in was dark, the blinds drawn tight. The only light came from the desk lamp casting a dull yellow glow over polished wood.
He turned around.
A woman stood at the window, her back to him, wrapped in a satin robe the color of red wine. Her hair was pinned up neatly, not a strand out of place.
"She bought it," Liam said quietly. "Just like you said she would."
The woman didn't turn.
She lifted a teacup to her lips, took a delicate sip, then set it back down.
"Good," she replied, her voice calm and smooth as silk. "Very good."
Then she turned—just enough for the light to catch the curve of her cheek, her lips lifting into the faintest smile.
"She doesn't need to know what really happened last night."