Flames of Midnight

**Flames of Midnight** The taxi’s air conditioning blew cold against Ana’s skin, but the heat rising through her thighs came from within—a slow fire starting in her belly and spreading like liquid mercury. She adjusted her black dress—the one that molded every curve without needing much, the fabric so thin it felt like a second skin—and watched the city pass by the window. The downtown São Paulo skyscrapers loomed like glass and steel giants, their facades reflecting neon lights that flickered in ruby and sapphire hues. It was one of those Friday nights when the city breathed promises. The driver stopped in front of an old building, renovated with an elegance only money could buy. The loft’s entrance was discreet: a black iron door with an impeccably suited doorman who greeted her by name before she even showed her invitation. Ana smiled, accustomed to that kind of deference. A lawyer at a renowned firm, used to negotiating million-dollar contracts and disarming opponents with a single look, she knew the weight of her own name. But that night, it wasn’t Dr. Ana Vasconcelos stepping into the private elevator. It was just Ana—a woman who had decided, for the first time in months, to hang up her armor and allow herself to be seen. The doors opened to a spacious hall, where the high ceiling vanished into dark wooden beams and crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the guests. The air smelled of expensive perfume, whiskey aged in oak barrels, and something subtler, almost imperceptible: the scent of bodies warmed by music and alcohol. A jazz band played in one corner, the saxophone notes sliding between conversations like smoke. Ana accepted a glass of champagne from a white-gloved waiter and let the bubbly liquid burn her throat, sweet and acidic at once. She wasn’t there to work. Not that night. —Dr. Vasconcelos, what a pleasant surprise. The voice came from behind, masculine, with a tone of amusement that made her pulse quicken before she even turned. When she did, she found a tall man, broad-shouldered beneath a navy blazer that matched his eyes—a deep blue, almost indigo, like the sea at dusk. He smiled, not with the arrogance of someone who knew he was being watched, but with the quiet confidence of someone who didn’t need to prove anything. —Lucas Montenegro—he extended his hand, and the touch was brief but enough for her to feel the heat of his palm against hers.—Architect. And, apparently, your fan. Ana arched an eyebrow but couldn’t resist the smile forming on her lips. —Fan? Should I be worried? —Depends.—He tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her with deliberate slowness.—Do you often attend parties like this, or was it my luck? —Luck?—She laughed, a low, melodious sound.—I’d say it was planning. Or maybe fate. —I prefer the second option. The way he said it, as if each word were an invitation, made something tighten inside her. Ana brought the glass to her lips again, watching him over the rim. Lucas wasn’t the kind of man who went unnoticed—his face had sharp angles, the square jaw softened by a hint of stubble that gave him a restrained rebelliousness. But it was his eyes that held her attention: dark, intense, as if they knew something she hadn’t yet discovered. —And you?—she asked, returning the game.—Are you here by planning or fate? —Let’s say I like to be in the right place at the right time.—He took a step closer, just enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne—something woody, with notes of sandalwood and a hint of spice.—And you, Ana, seem like exactly the kind of surprise worth waiting for. She didn’t step back. Instead, she let the proximity between them become something tangible, a space charged with electricity. The room around them seemed to fade, the voices becoming a distant murmur, the music a backdrop to the accelerated rhythm of her own breathing. —Are you always this direct?—she asked, her voice a little huskier than she intended. —Only when I think it’s worth it. His smile was dangerous. Ana knew she should step away, that this seduction game was risky, especially with a man like Lucas—too confident, too charming, the type who knew exactly the effect he had on women. But there was something in his gaze, a silent promise that he wasn’t just another face in the crowd. —And what makes you think I’m worth it?—she challenged, leaning slightly forward. Lucas didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out and brushed his fingers over her wrist, a light touch, almost imperceptible, but one that made her skin burn. —Because you’re not looking at me the way other women do—he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.—You’re evaluating me. And that, Ana, is much more interesting. She should have stepped back. Should have said something witty, something to put him in his place. But the words died in her throat when he leaned in even closer, his warm breath against her ear. —And I love a good challenge. The air between them was charged, thick enough to cut with a knife. Ana felt her body react—her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her dress, heat pooling between her legs. She knew that if she stayed there one more second, she’d lose control. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to resist. —Shall we dance?—he asked, extending his hand. Ana hesitated for a moment. Dancing was intimate. Dancing was surrender. But when her fingers intertwined with his, she knew she had already crossed a line from which there was no return. And, strangely, she didn’t mind at all. Ana let Lucas guide her toward the dance floor, but the crowd pushed them near the bar before they could reach it. The loft was fuller now, bodies pressing together to the rhythm of electronic music, strobe lights cutting through the dimness in flashes of blue and gold. The air smelled of expensive perfume, sweat, and the citrus tang of gin spilling over the rims of glasses. She felt the heat of his hand still holding hers, his long, firm fingers, as if he already knew exactly where he wanted to touch her. —Do you dance as well as you argue?—Lucas asked, leaning in so his words wouldn’t get lost in the deep beat of the music. Ana raised an eyebrow but didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she let him pull her closer, until their bodies were separated only by the thin layer of their clothes—hers, a wine-colored dress that accentuated her bronzed skin; his, a black shirt that molded his broad shoulders and defined chest. —Depends—she replied, her voice low, almost a challenge.—Can you keep up? He smiled, slow, as if he already knew the answer. With his free hand, he took two glasses of whiskey from the counter, offering one to her. Ana accepted, her fingers brushing his a second longer than necessary. The first sip burned her throat, but she didn’t look away. —I like women who know what they want—Lucas said, moving even closer, until his mouth was almost touching her temple.—And you, Ana? Do you know what you want? She felt his warm breath against her skin, the scent of alcohol and something else, something masculine and clean, like freshly cut wood. It wasn’t just the whiskey making her feel dizzy. It was him. The way his dark eyes roamed over her, as if he were already undressing her mentally. As if every word were an invitation. —Maybe—she murmured, swirling the glass between her fingers.—But I prefer to find out. Lucas laughed, a deep, rough sound that vibrated in his chest and echoed in hers. He set his glass down and, without warning, cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up. Ana didn’t resist. Not when he was so close she could count the faint freckles on his nose. Not when his lips were parted, moist, inviting. —Then let’s find out together—he whispered before releasing her chin and stepping back just enough for her to feel the absence of his touch like a loss. Ana exhaled, trembling. The bar was packed, but suddenly it felt like only the two of them existed, in a bubble of heat and anticipation. She brought the glass to her lips again, watching him over the rim. Lucas didn’t look away. He studied her as if she were a puzzle he was determined to solve. —Are you always like this?—she asked, tilting her head.—So... direct? —Only when it’s worth it—he replied, running his tongue over his teeth in a deliberately slow gesture.—And you, Ana, are very much worth it. She laughed, but the sound came out more breathless than she intended. There was something about Lucas that disarmed her. It wasn’t just the confidence, nor the easy charm. It was the way he looked at her, as if he already knew she would give in. As if he already knew she *wanted* to give in. —You’re dangerous—she said, lowering her voice. —And you like it. It wasn’t a question. Ana didn’t deny it. Around them, the party continued, but the world seemed to have shrunk to fit only the few inches separating their bodies. Lucas reached out again, this time not to pull her closer, but to trace a slow line from her shoulder to her wrist, his fingers brushing the skin exposed by her dress’s neckline. Ana felt a shiver run down her spine, her nipples hardening beneath the fabric. —You’re trembling—he observed, his voice rough. —It’s the air conditioning—she lied. Lucas smiled, knowing it was a lie. He leaned in closer, until his lips were almost touching her ear. —It’s not the air conditioning—he whispered.—It’s you. It’s *us*. Ana closed her eyes for a second, feeling the heat of his body against hers. When she opened them again, Lucas was looking at her mouth. She knew what he wanted. She knew what *she* wanted. But something held her back—a last shred of control, perhaps, or the fear that once they started, there would be no turning back. —What are you waiting for?—he asked, as if reading her thoughts. Ana didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, just a light touch, almost chaste. But it was enough to make Lucas’s body tense, his fingers tightening around her wrist. —That—he murmured, his voice rough—is a start. She smiled against his mouth, then pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. —A start—she repeated, as if testing the word. Lucas didn’t let her pull away further. With a quick movement, he pulled her against him, one hand on her waist, the other tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. Ana didn’t resist. Not when he kissed her as if he already knew her, as if he already knew exactly what would make her moan. And she did moan. A low sound, lost between his lips, but one that made Lucas pull her even closer, as if he wanted to absorb every reaction of hers. The kiss was long, wet, full of unspoken promises. Ana tasted the whiskey on his tongue, mixed with something sweeter, something that was purely Lucas. When he finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with desire. —Let’s get out of here—he said, his voice rough. Ana didn’t hesitate. Not when he took her hand and pulled her toward the exit, not when the cool night air hit her face, not when he pushed her against the building’s wall, his hands on her hips, his mouth finding hers again in a hungry kiss. —Yes—she whispered against his lips.—Let’s go. The street welcomed them like a secret stage, lit by golden lampposts that cast long shadows on the wet asphalt. The night air carried the scent of recent rain, mixed with the sweet aroma of ipê blossoms falling from the trees like natural confetti. Ana took a deep breath, feeling the coolness fill her lungs, while Lucas still held her hand, his fingers intertwined with hers in a familiarity that surprised her with its intensity. He didn’t let go even as they crossed the street, not even when the wind tousled her hair, making it stick to her red-painted lips. —You know this city has more secrets than buildings, don’t you?—Lucas murmured, leaning slightly so his words reached only her. His voice was low, almost a conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing something forbidden. Ana smiled, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.—And do you know all of them? —Some.—He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. The lamppost’s light illuminated half his face, leaving the other in shadow, as if the night were claiming him.—But I’m more interested in discovering yours. She laughed, a light sound lost in the distant noise of a passing car.—My secrets aren’t as interesting as the city’s. —That’s what you think.—Lucas took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Ana caught the scent of his cologne, something woody with a hint of spice, mixed with the faint aroma of whiskey still lingering in his breath.—I bet you have at least one you haven’t told anyone. Ana raised an eyebrow, challenging.—And if I do? —Then I want to be the first to hear it.—He lifted his free hand to her face, brushing his knuckles along her jawline. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her skin burn.—But not here. Not in the middle of the street. She swallowed hard, feeling her body react to his proximity, to the implicit promise in every word.—And where, then? Lucas smiled, a slow, dangerous smile.—Wherever you want. Ana looked around, as if the city could give her an answer. To the left, a square with wooden benches and an old fountain, its waters shimmering under the moonlight. To the right, a narrow alley, lit only by a yellowish lamp, where shadows danced like furtive lovers. She hesitated for a second, but something in Lucas’s gaze made her decide. —Over there.—She pointed to the alley, feeling her heart race. It wasn’t a romantic place, but it was intimate. And at that moment, it was exactly what she wanted. Lucas didn’t question. He just tightened his grip on her hand and guided her into the narrow passage, where the city’s sounds seemed muffled, as if they were in a world apart. The cobblestone ground was damp, reflecting the light of the single lamp, and the walls of the old buildings seemed to whisper stories of clandestine encounters. Ana leaned against one of them, feeling the cold of the stone through the thin fabric of her dress. Lucas stopped in front of her, his hands resting on the wall, one on each side of her head, trapping her without touching. —You’re full of surprises, Ana—he murmured, his eyes fixed on hers.—First, the party. Now, a dark alley. —Maybe I just like places where no one can see us—she replied, her voice a little shaky. —And what would you do if someone saw us?—He moved even closer, his lips almost brushing hers. Ana could feel the heat of his body, the tension radiating from him in waves. —Depends.—She lifted her chin, challenging him.—Would you care? Lucas chuckled, a sound that vibrated against her skin.—No. But I wouldn’t share you with anyone. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was no longer hesitant. It was hungry, possessive, as if he had waited his whole life for that moment. Ana responded with the same intensity, her hands rising to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The taste of whiskey was still there, but now mixed with Lucas’s unique flavor, something she couldn’t define but that made her want more. He pushed her harder against the wall, one hand sliding down her waist, pulling her against his body. Ana felt the hardness of his arousal against her belly, and a moan escaped her lips. Lucas took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring hers with an urgency that left her breathless. His hands roamed her back, descending to the curve of her hips, squeezing with a force bordering on violence, but which she received as a gift. —You have no idea what you’re doing to me—he murmured against her mouth, his lips brushing hers with each word. —Then show me—she pleaded, her voice rough with desire. Lucas didn’t need more encouragement. His hands moved up her body, pulling her dress up until his fingers found the bare skin of her thighs. Ana shuddered when he touched them, his calloused fingers contrasting with the softness of her skin. He suddenly lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and pressed her harder against the wall. Ana felt his weight, the solidity of his masculine body against hers, and arched her back, seeking more contact. —Fuck, Ana—he groaned, his mouth descending down her neck, nipping, licking, leaving a trail of fire on her skin.—You’re so hot. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The words were lost in a moan when he lightly bit her earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His hands were everywhere, exploring, squeezing, as if he wanted to memorize every curve of her body. Ana clung to him, her nails digging into his broad back, feeling the thin shirt beneath her fingers. She wanted to tear it off, wanted to feel his skin against hers, but the alley wasn’t the place. —Lucas—she whispered, his name a plea. He paused for a second, his dark eyes fixed on hers.—What? —Take us somewhere.—She didn’t need to explain. He knew. Lucas set her down carefully but didn’t let go. Instead, he took her hand again and pulled her out of the alley, back into the lit street. The contrast between the intimate darkness and the public light made Ana blink, but Lucas didn’t stop. He guided her with determination, his strides long, as if he knew exactly where they were going. Ana didn’t ask. She didn’t care. The only thought in her mind was that wherever he was taking her, she would follow. Because at that moment, there was nothing more important than what was about to happen between them. And when he stopped in front of an elegant building, with an ornate iron door and a doorman who greeted them with a discreet nod, Ana knew the night was just beginning. The apartment door closed with a soft click, but the sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet space. Ana barely had time to take in the details of the room—exposed concrete walls, clean-lined furniture, an entire glass wall revealing the city lit up like a carpet of stars—because Lucas was already pressing her against the cold surface of the door, his warm hands sliding down the sides of her body as his lips found hers in a kiss that didn’t ask for permission, only took. The taste of wine still lingered on their tongues, mixed with his unique flavor, something salty and masculine that made her moan against his mouth. Ana’s hands instinctively rose, tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer as if she could fuse their bodies right there. He chuckled softly, a rough, satisfied sound, before nipping at her lower lip and pulling it between his teeth. —You have no idea how much I wanted this—he murmured, his voice rough against the sensitive skin of her neck, where his lips now traced a path of fire.—From the first second I saw you at that party, in that dress that looked like it was made to be torn off. Ana arched her body against his, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing against her hip. His words set her on fire, and she responded by tugging at his shirt, the buttons popping open with a satisfying snap. —Then stop talking and do something—she challenged, her eyes half-closed as she watched his defined chest muscles revealed beneath the torn fabric. Lucas didn’t need more encouragement. With a quick movement, he lifted her by the hips, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her through the apartment. Ana laughed, a breathless, deliciously uncontrolled sound, but the laughter died in her throat when he set her down on the kitchen island, the cold marble contrasting with the heat radiating from her body. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands firm on her thighs, and pulled her to the edge until there was no space between them. —You’re beautiful—he said, his fingers tracing the neckline of her dress, pulling the fabric down until her breasts spilled free.—But I want to see all of you. Ana didn’t protest when he slid the dress straps down, letting it pool at her feet. She was left only in her panties, the cool night air caressing her exposed skin, but the fire in Lucas’s eyes kept her warm. He leaned in, capturing a nipple between his lips, and she arched her back with a moan, her nails digging into his shoulders. —Fuck—he growled, his mouth still busy while one hand slid between her legs, his fingers pressing against the damp fabric of her panties.—You’re soaked. Ana bit her lip, trying to contain the tremor running through her body. She wasn’t shy, but the intensity with which he looked at her, as if he could devour her whole, left her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected. —Stop looking at me like that—she pleaded, her voice faltering. —Like what?—He lifted his head, his lips glistening, his dark eyes full of promises. —Like I’m yours. Lucas smiled, a slow, dangerous smile, before kneeling in front of her. With a quick movement, he pulled her panties to the side, exposing her completely, and Ana felt her breath catch when he leaned forward, his hot, wet tongue sliding over her clit in a slow, deliberate motion. —You *are* mine—he murmured, his warm breath against her sensitive skin.—At least for tonight. Ana didn’t have time to respond. His lips closed around her most sensitive spot, sucking with a pressure that made her cry out, her hands gripping his hair tightly. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, his fingers joining his mouth as he explored her with a precision that left her on the edge of the abyss. She could feel the orgasm building, a hot, overwhelming wave, but before she could reach climax, Lucas pulled away, leaving her panting and frustrated. —No—she protested, her voice rough.—Don’t stop. He laughed, standing up and pulling her to her feet. Her body trembled, her skin prickling, but he didn’t give her time to recover. With a quick movement, he turned her around, pressing her against the marble island, his hands firm on her hips. —I decide when you come—he said, his voice a rough whisper in her ear as his hard cock pressed against her buttocks.—And I want to feel you come on me. Ana moaned, her body responding instinctively to his authoritative tone. She could feel the tip of his cock sliding between her legs, teasing but not entering. He was playing with her, and she both hated and loved it. —Lucas—she begged, pushing her hips back, trying to force him inside. He laughed again, the sound vibrating against her skin as one hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in slow, torturous circles. —What do you want, Ana?—he asked, his voice low and teasing.—Tell me. She bit her lip, trying to resist, but the pleasure was too much. —I want you inside me—she admitted, the words coming out in a desperate whisper. Lucas didn’t need anything more. With a quick movement, he lifted her again, carrying her through the apartment to the bedroom. Ana barely had time to register the huge bed, the dark silk sheets, before he set her down on the mattress, his body covering hers in an instant. She pulled him down, kissing him with a hunger that mirrored his, their tongues tangling as her hands explored every inch of exposed skin. He was naked now, his muscular, warm body against hers, and Ana couldn’t decide where to touch him first. She ran her nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under her touch, before descending to his buttocks, pulling him closer. —Condom—he murmured against her lips, reaching for the nightstand. Ana watched as he tore open the packet with his teeth and rolled the latex over his cock, his movements quick and efficient. She bit her lip, anticipating the moment he would finally fill her, but when he returned to her, it wasn’t as she expected. Instead of entering her in one swift motion, Lucas flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up until she was on all fours, her hands braced on the mattress. He positioned himself behind her, the tip of his cock sliding between her legs, teasing her again. —Lucas—she moaned, pushing her hips back, trying to force him inside. He chuckled, one hand firm on her hip while the other traced slow, torturous patterns down her spine. —Patience—he murmured, leaning forward to nip at her shoulder. Ana moaned, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the need pulsing inside her, but he insisted on teasing her. —Please—she whispered, her voice breaking. He didn’t resist any longer. With a quick thrust, he entered her, filling her completely in one motion. Ana cried out, the pleasure so intense it nearly made her collapse, but he held her steady, his hands on her hips as he began to move. Each thrust was deep, deliberate, and Ana could feel every inch of him inside her, filling her in a way that left her breathless. She pushed her hips back, meeting his movements, her moans mingling with his rough grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with the sound of their bodies moving together, faster and faster, more and more intense. Lucas leaned forward, one hand sliding between her legs, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in quick circles. Ana felt the orgasm building again, a hot, overwhelming wave that threatened to consume her. —Come for me—he ordered, his voice rough in her ear.—Now. And she obeyed. With a cry, she shattered, the pleasure exploding inside her as her body clenched around him. Lucas didn’t stop, continuing to move inside her as she rode the waves of her orgasm, each thrust prolonging the pleasure until he, too, reached his climax, his body tensing as he came with a rough groan. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing and the weight of his body against hers. Ana could feel his heart beating against her back, their sweat mingling, and she knew that night was far from over. Lucas pulled away slowly, pulling her down until they were lying on their sides, their bodies entwined. He brushed her hair from her face, his lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. —That was just the beginning—he murmured, his voice still rough with desire. Ana smiled, her body still vibrating with the remnants of pleasure. —Then show me the rest. Ana felt his body still pulsing inside her, his warm breath against her nape, his strong arms wrapping around her as if Lucas feared she might dissolve into the air. But she didn’t want to go anywhere. Every nerve ending still vibrated, the echo of her orgasm reverberating in slow waves, like the aftermath of a storm that had left the world more alive, more intense. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing the curve of her shoulder, his teeth lightly nipping the sensitive skin, and she arched her back, a low moan escaping her parted lips. —You’re amazing—his voice was a rough whisper, the words lost between the strands of hair clinging to her sweat-dampened skin.—I knew it would be like this. Ana turned her face toward him, her dark eyes meeting his, shining under the soft lamplight. There was something there, something beyond desire, a spark that burned deeper than lust. She raised her hand, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble, the warmth of his skin. —You have no idea what’s coming—she murmured, her voice full of promises. Lucas smiled, slow and dangerous, his fingers sliding down her arm until they intertwined with hers. He pulled her up, reversing their positions with an ease that betrayed his strength, until Ana was on top, her knees braced on the mattress, her hands splayed on his chest. His body was a work of art beneath her: defined muscles, skin marked by thin scars, like maps of old battles. She leaned forward, her lips brushing his in a kiss that started soft but soon became voracious, their tongues tangling, teeth lightly clashing. —Show me—he ordered, his voice rough, his hands sliding down her back, nails lightly scratching her skin, sending shivers down her spine.—Show me what you want. Ana didn’t need more encouragement. She rose, her hands braced on his chest, feeling his heart beating strongly under her palms. Slowly, she began to move, her hips swaying in a rhythm that made Lucas’s eyes close for a moment, his lips parting in a low groan. She loved this—the power to make him lose control, to see desire clouding his eyes, his breathing becoming faster, shallower. His hands rose, gripping her hips, guiding her, but she resisted, keeping the torturous pace, each movement calculated to prolong the pleasure, to make him beg. —Ana…—her name came out as a plea, his fingers digging into her flesh with enough force to leave marks.—Fuck, Ana… She smiled, leaning forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, her hard nipples grazing his skin. Her lips found his earlobe, lightly nipping before whispering: —What do you want, Lucas? Tell me. He groaned, his eyes closing for a moment before fixing on hers. —I want you.—His hands rose to cup her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples, teasing until she arched her back with a sigh.—All of you. Now. And then, without another word, he pulled her down, reversing their positions once more, until Ana was on all fours, her hands braced on the mattress, her back arched. He positioned himself behind her, his fingers sliding between her legs, feeling the wetness still dripping from her, her body responding instantly to his touch. Ana moaned, pushing her hips back, seeking more contact. —Please—she whispered, her voice breaking. Lucas didn’t make her wait. With a quick movement, he entered her, their bodies colliding with force, a rough groan escaping his lips. Ana cried out, her fingers gripping the sheets as he began to move, each thrust deeper, more intense, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back with each movement, the rhythm becoming more frenzied, more desperate. Ana felt the pleasure building inside her, a wave that threatened to swallow her whole. Her moans escaped her lips uncontrollably, her body moving in sync with his, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge. Lucas leaned over her, his lips finding the curve of her neck, his teeth lightly nipping the sensitive skin. —Come for me—he ordered, his voice rough, his fingers sliding between her legs, finding the spot that would make her shatter. Ana didn’t resist. With a cry, she came undone, the orgasm sweeping over her like a tsunami, her body trembling, her muscles clenching around him as she rode the waves of pleasure. Lucas groaned, feeling her body tighten around him, and that was enough to take him with her. With a low growl, he buried himself deep, the pleasure exploding inside him as he came, his body trembling with the force of his climax. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies entwined, their breathing still ragged. Lucas pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow kiss, full of a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of what had just happened. —I don’t want this to end—he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. Ana smiled, her eyes closed, her body still vibrating with the remnants of pleasure. —Then don’t. And as the night wore on, they both knew this wouldn’t be the last time. There was something between them, something that went beyond the physical, something that pulled them toward each other like a magnet. And when the first ray of sunlight began to filter through the curtains, they were still entwined, their bodies exhausted, but their minds already planning the next encounter. The first light of dawn seeped through the gaps in the heavy curtains, painting golden stripes on Ana’s still-warm skin. She woke slowly, as if emerging from a deep dream, her senses gradually adjusting to reality. The weight of Lucas’s arm around her waist was real, the heat of his body against her back, undeniable. The scent of him—a mix of sandalwood, sweat, and something indescribably masculine—still filled the air, and she breathed it in deeply, savoring every particle. The Egyptian cotton sheets were tangled between them, silent witnesses to the previous night. Ana shifted slightly, feeling her body protest in a deliciously sore way. Every muscle seemed to remember what had happened: Lucas’s hands sliding over her skin, his teeth lightly marking her shoulder, the muffled moans against the pillow. A shiver ran down her spine, and she smiled, her lips still swollen from kisses. Lucas murmured something incomprehensible against the nape of her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin. Ana felt his warm, damp breath, and a new heat spread through her belly. He pulled her closer, as if even in his sleep he knew she was there, as if his body instinctively recognized hers. His fingers entwined with hers in a way that felt more intimate than any touch from the night before. —Good morning—she whispered, slowly turning to face him. Lucas’s eyes were half-closed, heavy with sleep, but the smile that spread across his face was slow, lazy, full of promises. He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he leaned in and captured her lips in a soft, almost reverent kiss. Ana sighed against his mouth, tasting the lingering sleep and residual desire. Lucas’s hands slid down her back, descending to the curve of her hips, pulling her closer, as if it still wasn’t enough. —Have you been awake long?—he asked, his voice rough with sleep, his fingers tracing slow circles on her skin. —Just a few minutes—she lied, because the truth was she had been lying there for a while, watching him sleep, memorizing every detail: the way his dark lashes rested on his cheekbones, the shadow of stubble beginning to appear, the firm line of his jaw. It was strange how someone could be both so familiar and so unknown at the same time. Lucas chuckled softly, as if he knew she was lying.—You’re looking at me like you want to devour me again. Ana blushed but didn’t look away.—What if I do? He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and pulled her on top of him, so she was straddling his hips. The morning light illuminated his body, highlighting every defined muscle, every small scar, every mark the previous night had left. Ana ran her fingers over his chest, feeling his heart beating strongly under her palm. —You’re beautiful—he murmured, his dark eyes roaming over every inch of her, as if he were etching the image into his memory.—But I already knew that. Ana tilted her head, her hair cascading over her shoulders.—And what else did you know? —That you’d be like this—he replied, his hands sliding up her thighs, squeezing lightly.—That you’d be pure fire. She laughed, a light, musical sound, and leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if the simple touch of their lips could reignite everything that had happened the night before. Lucas groaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her hips tightly, pulling her down so she could feel his morning erection pressing against her belly. Ana pulled back just enough to breathe.—Do we have time? Lucas glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the digital numbers blinking in red.—Enough. And then there were no more words. Just touches, sighs, the sound of skin against skin. Ana rose over him, her knees sinking into the mattress, and slowly lowered herself, feeling every inch of him fill her. They both groaned at the same time, a sound that echoed through the silent room. Lucas cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling her already hard nipples, while Ana began to move, first slowly, then with more urgency, her hips undulating in a rhythm that made them both lose their breath. The sun had risen higher in the sky, and the light now bathed the entire bed, illuminating every drop of sweat, every tremor, every expression of pleasure crossing their faces. Ana felt the orgasm approaching, a slow, inexorable wave, and leaned forward, capturing Lucas’s lips in a desperate kiss. He held her tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as his own climax hit, a rough groan escaping his throat. They collapsed together, their bodies still joined, their ragged breaths mingling. Ana rested her head on his chest, listening to his racing heart, feeling the sweat dry on her skin. Lucas ran his fingers through her hair, tugging lightly, as if to make sure she was real. —I need a shower—she murmured after a while, but made no move to get up. —Me too—he replied, but neither of them moved. Instead, they stayed there, entwined, enjoying the comfortable silence, the weight of each other’s bodies, the feeling that, even exhausted, they didn’t want to separate. It was Lucas who finally broke the spell.—Do you have any plans today? Ana thought for a moment.—Nothing that can’t be canceled. —Then stay. She lifted her head to look at him, a smile playing on her lips.—Is that an invitation? —It’s an order—he replied, pulling her in for another kiss. And Ana didn’t argue. Lucas’s bathroom was as impressive as the rest of the apartment: black marble walls, a bathtub large enough for two, and a glass shower with multiple jets. Ana stepped in first, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature until steam began to rise, fogging the mirrors. Lucas followed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him, his hands sliding over her belly as the hot water cascaded over them. —Do you have any idea how much I want you again?—he murmured against her ear, his teeth lightly nipping her earlobe. Ana laughed, turning to face him.—I think I have an idea. He pushed her against the shower wall, his hands gripping her wrists above her head, their wet bodies sliding against each other. The water streamed down Lucas’s hair, dripping from his lashes, and Ana couldn’t resist: she leaned in and licked a drop running down his chest, tasting the saltiness of his skin. Lucas groaned, a sound that echoed through the bathroom, and released her only to grab the liquid soap. He poured a generous amount into his palm and began to wash her body with slow, deliberate movements, as if memorizing every curve. Ana closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the sensation of his hands sliding over her breasts, her belly, her thighs. When his fingers found her center, she arched her back, a sigh escaping her lips. —You’re insatiable—she murmured, but there was no reproach in her voice, only desire. —Only with you—he replied, kissing her as the water continued to fall over them. They washed each other slowly, exploring every inch of one another, as if the shower were just another extension of the previous night. When they finally stepped out, wrapped in soft towels, the apartment was already bathed in the clear morning light. Lucas made coffee while Ana dried off, her damp hair falling in waves over her shoulders. She approached him from behind, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. —What do you have for breakfast?—she asked, her lips brushing his skin. —Besides you?—he teased, turning to kiss her. Ana laughed but didn’t pull away.—I’m serious. —I am too—he replied, his dark eyes gleaming.—But if you insist, I have bread, eggs, fruit... and some honey. —Honey?—she raised an eyebrow. —Yes.—He took the honey jar from the pantry and held it between his fingers, a mischievous smile on his lips.—Want to try it? Ana didn’t answer. Instead, she took the jar from his hand and set it on the counter. Then, she pulled Lucas by the towel, leading him back to the bedroom. --- Much later, much later, they finally sat down at the kitchen table, Ana wearing one of Lucas’s shirts—which reached her knees—and him in just a pair of cotton shorts. Breakfast was simple: scrambled eggs, toast, sliced fruit, and, of course, the honey. Ana dipped her finger into the jar and brought it to her lips, licking it slowly, her eyes fixed on Lucas. —You’re trying to kill me—he murmured, his voice rough. She laughed but didn’t stop. Instead, she leaned over the table and offered him the honey-coated finger. Lucas didn’t hesitate: he took her wrist and brought her finger to his mouth, sucking it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. —Delicious—he murmured, releasing her. Ana felt the heat spread through her body but forced herself to focus on breakfast. They ate in silence for a few minutes, exchanging knowing looks, smiles that said more than words. —So—she began after a while.—What happens now? Lucas set his coffee cup on the table and reached for her hand.—Now, we see where this goes. Ana intertwined her fingers with his, feeling the firmness of his grip.—And if it doesn’t go anywhere? —I don’t believe that—he replied, standing and pulling her close.—You feel this, don’t you?—He placed her hand on his chest, where his heart beat strongly.—It’s not just chemistry. It’s not just desire. It’s more. Ana looked at him, her eyes searching his, as if she could find the answer there. And maybe she did. Because she felt it. She felt it in the way her body responded to his, in the way his words made her feel seen, in the way, even after a whole night, she still wanted more. —I feel it—she admitted, finally. Lucas smiled, a slow, satisfied smile, and pulled her into a kiss.—Then let’s not waste it. And Ana knew, in that moment, that he was right. That night hadn’t been the end. It was just the beginning.