Resting on the Indian Ocean, near the Equator, with a concept of one resort per island, the Maldives guaranteed the perfect relaxing holiday. A paradise with its warm shallow waters of the most unique turquoise-and-green sea, beautiful beaches of powder white sand, lush tropical vegetation and friendly people.

Alistair had planned to surprise Sophia with the most romantic setting and had kept everything about the last part of their honeymoon a secret. After admiring centuries of old wisdom in the temples and villages of Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam, he wanted them to spend their last days languishing and enjoying each other in the very essence of idyll living.

Further out in the Indian Ocean, the Ocean Pavilion Alistair had booked had private access only for its guests through a charming wooden walkway.

Their personal thakuru, or butler, called Amir, was carrying their bags, and Farah, an exotic Malayan young woman with a shy grin, was accompanying Sophia and Alistair to their bungalow.

“We’re on call round the clock during your stay, sir. We’ll be glad to help you with all your requests at all times,” Amir enthusiastically explained. “If you want to experience spa treatments, our Lime spa is like no other. It’s in an underwater aquarium and we only do individual and personalized treatments.”

Farah opened the door for them and Sophia stepped inside the huge bungalow. There were so many white rose petals scattered on the ground that it felt like they were walking into a giant flower.

The living room had an enormous white sofa with colorful cushions facing the private infinity pool, which blended naturally with the magnificent turquoise-clear sea waters and the horizon. In a corner, there was a fifty-five inch TV and high-tech sound equipment. On the center table, a bucket with Krug champagne on ice and crystal flutes waited for them.

With a happy smile and shaking her head at Alistair, she whispered, “You are definitively certifiable, Lord Craziness.”

He entwined his fingers with hers and raised them, gallantly kissing her hand. “You, my love, are my craziness. Come and see.”

While the hotel employees took their luggage to the main bedroom, Alistair lead Sophia through the luxurious and modern pavilion, showing her the main dining area, with the Frank Gehry table and chairs and a discreet sideway butler entry, and the verandas and wooden decks where there was a round heated pool.

The master bedroom was an open plan, incorporating an en-suite bathroom featuring an infinity bathtub that filled from a faucet in the ceiling and a hydro spa shower that was pure indulgence. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the wonderful blue waters.

“This is...hot,” Sophia remarked in a sensuous whisper, looking around the bathroom. “It’s the utmost luxury provided without opulence. It surpasses my expectations.”

“You have yet to see the spa. I came here before doing Airgead’s spa to gather ideas. It’s breathtaking.” He smiled down at her and pulled her back to the bedroom, where Amir and Farah were awaiting instructions.

Alistair accompanied the young man outside, while Sophia started opening her luggage to unpack her things and Farah took care of Alistair’s.

Amir showed Alistair the other side of the bungalow and explained the facilities the hotel offered.

Alistair tipped the friendly Amir. “By the way, we’d like a light lunch in one hour, and also, we would like to dine in tonight. Say, nine o’clock. Is that okay?”

“Of course, sir. Here is the menu.” Amir showed him the available menus and wine list. “We can also accommodate any especial orders.”

* * *

After discussing and ordering their lunch and dinner, Alistair went searching for Sophia. He leaned on the bedroom threshold, delighting in observing her.

She was dressed in a long white cotton dress, made with the delicate Brazilian bobbin lace. It enticed his senses as it left parts of her flat belly and elegant legs apparent under the lace and contrasted nicely with her skin, which was beautifully light tanned.

“Lady OCD,” he called, amused that he was acquiring her habit of nicknaming him.

Sophia pivoted on her bare feet and was struck by the view of her husband.

Alistair was looking totally rested, rejuvenated even. His poise was relaxed, but he also had an inborn seductive and dangerous air about him that called to Sophia.

Her eyes roamed over his rugged face. His lips were stretched in a happy grin and his forest-green eyes sparkled with merriment. Dark stubble shadowed his chiseled jaw. His jaggedly cut ink-black hair was even longer than usual and touched his broad shoulders in its wind-blown way.

The top three buttons of his white linen shirt were unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled, broad chest and his strong, tanned forearms peeked from under its rolled sleeves. His thumbs were hooked on the waistband of his washed jeans, his large hands resting on his hips.

Sophia nearly lost her breath, thinking about the torrid sensations those magical hands could make her feel. Unbidden, her eyes continued down, over his tall, masculine frame.

Alistair didn’t move from where he was. Sophia’s heated gaze had paralyzed him in a state of blissful arousal. He had planned their honeymoon to be a celebration of their love, culminating in that intimate, secluded paradise. He had thought that having her to himself for twenty days would be enough to slack the unquenched hunger he felt for her. He was not so sure anymore.

Unconscious of her actions and mindless of the maid arranging Alistair’s things in the wardrobe, Sophia licked her lips, suddenly famished for her husband’s attention.

As her eyes made their way back from his bare feet crushing the white rose petals, up to his light blue jeans that were molded to his firm, muscled thighs, she noticed the bulge forming at the front of his jeans. She flexed her fingers, itching to reach forward and divest him of his clothes.

A low, deep rumbling sound, more a groan than laughter, broke into Sophia’s musings.

She blinked in surprise, having nearly forgotten where she was or what she had been doing.

“Come.” His voice was gravely, and he held out his hand.

Unaware of the ongoing sexual undertow between husband and wife, Farah immediately said, “I’ll finish this, ma’am.”

Sophia looked around. There were only Alistair’s bathroom toiletries to be put in the bathroom. She cleared her throat, trying to bring some sense to her aroused body. She thanked and tipped the maid, informing her she would finish it herself.

Grabbing Alistair’s hand, she left the room as if walking on the clouds of paradise.

* * *

On the veranda, Alistair took hold of her waist and pulled her toward him until her back was pressed against him and she could feel his readiness as he rubbed himself on her lower back.

Sophia tried to engage him in light conversation, not sure if the maid had left the bungalow yet. “This is amazing. Calm, wonderful sea and beautiful landscapes.”

He just grunted in agreement. He was in no mood for talking after what happened in the bedroom. Sophia had an incredibly erotic effect on him. He pushed her hair away and bit her shoulder, licking it afterwards.

Her hands dipped into his silky hair and she angled her head, baring her neck to him.

He bit again and sucked, his hands moving to pull her dress up to her thighs, caressing them, while the other went to her breast, his thumb making round circles on the already hard nipple. “Hmm, no bra. You naughty girl.”

“Stop,” she chided him. “You’ll leave love bites. Besides, our lunch will arrive soon. Anyone can walk in on us.”

“My hickeys over your neck.” He pressed the heel of his hand to her lacy thong and rumbled something unintelligible but clearly lustful.

“Alistair Connor,” Sophia whispered, not knowing anymore if she wanted him to stop or to continue.

Fuck, Sophia, I want you now. He could hear the desire in her voice and didn’t care for lunch or anything, anymore. His hunger was only for her. His talented fingers dipped under her thong, teasing her.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaimed, when he felt she was ready for him. He turned her to face him and pulled her up in his arms as she wound her legs around his waist.

“In the smaller bedroom,” she whispered.

In three long strides, he entered the bedroom by the pool door and put Sophia down on her feet. “Close it.”

He walked to the other door and placed the red ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, locking it as she closed the glass doors and shut the fine linen curtains. When she moved to pick up the remote control to close the electric shutters, Alistair stopped her.

She looked up.

There was a feral look in his forest-green eyes. “I want to see you.”

“But—”

“They will not disturb us,” he said. He shed his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, already hard and erect. “This is a place for honeymooners. For fucking.”

Sophia should have been accustomed by now to his crude bedroom talk, but he still sometimes shocked her. Her mouth opened but he didn’t let her speak, ravishing it with a greedy, rough kiss while his hands untied the thin straps of her dress which pooled around her feet.

“And I want to fuck you as you fuck with my mind. Senselessly,” he whispered in her ear. He bit and licked his way down her neck, walking her backward to the bed. The back of her knees bumped into the edge of the bed and he went down with her, softening their fall with a stretched arm.

Sophia moaned when his mouth closed on one nipple. She lifted her hips to take off her thong so he wouldn’t rip it off, as he sometimes liked to do.

“Nae.” Without raising his head, just moving his mouth to the other bared breast, his hands closed over her wrists and he pulled both into one strong grip over her head, while the other framed her face and pressed her head down on the bed.

When Sophia squeezed her fingers over his hand, unsure, his head came up immediately and his stare burrowed down on hers, his heavy Scottish accent betraying the need he was feeling. “Let me. I want to look at you. I want to savor you.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

The burning inferno of his gaze lingered over her, caressing every part of her creamy skin. His eyes mapped her body, from her feet to her head, and imprinted it in his mind forever. The love that shone in her face made him realize how precious what they had together was.

“You’re so…” Beautiful? Nae. “You’re so Sophia.” He had no other adjectives for her, than herself. She was unique for him.

She smiled, endeared. “You’re my hot, sexy, Highland warrior. My pagan god. My beloved husband. My perfect Alistair Connor.”

What started with a rush became a slow torture, the way he preferred, as he kissed and licked his way down her belly as his other hand took off her thong, following his mouth.

Sophia writhed. All she could feel was his caresses, the branding he was imprinting everywhere on her body and her moans got louder as she wanted more. “Please.”

“Come to the edge of the bed and put your heels on it,” he murmured, his hand running over her body to stop just over her clitoris, fingers pressed together slightly rubbing it, the other hand poised over her entrance. “Open your eyes. I like to see them as I make you come.”

She slowly obeyed him and the ready look in her yellow-diamond eyes made Alistair’s hand move, but his eyes never left hers.

A long finger pushed into her. “Good?”

Sophia trembled and moaned, “I like this.”

He smiled, devilishly handsome and proud of the pleasure he was giving her. “More?”

“More,” she whispered, waiting for the hot feelings to climb up to a burning fever. Her arms, still stretched over her head, turned so her hands could grip the sheets and her torso arched on the bed as desire built in her body. The sensations radiated to the edge and she said, lifting her hips, “You.”

“Tell me,” he ordered, stopping suddenly, denying her the pleasure she needed until she described what she wanted.

“I want you inside me. Now, Alistair Connor,” she finished in a needy moan.

He thrust in a long plunge. She was tight to receive him all the way. His eyes moved from hers down to see where they joined, as he withdrew and firmly drove into her again as far as he could go. “Look, Sophia.”

She suspended herself on her elbows to see their bodies, moving, glistening with sweat and pleasure. His, hers. Theirs.

“Come with me. I’m close.” Her hands moved to touch herself.

Alistair’s desire ran rampant and he picked up her heels.

She immediately wound her legs around his sweaty, tapered hips and crossed her ankles over his firm buttocks.

He supported her lower back with his hands, firmly holding her as he thrust faster, fueling the fire in them, wanting the sensations to linger, but knowing he was going to come as soon as she did.

A heated pressure made its way down Sophia’s body. Alistair’s name left her mouth in a low, husky cry, and an intense, hot feeling that stole her breath away.

His climax followed after a few more thrusts. He threw his head back, with a loud groan, enjoying the burn that traveled down his spine and concentrated in his loins.

He lowered her legs and dropped sideways on the bed, rolling onto his back and bringing her to his chest in a tight embrace. He grunted, “Mine.”

“Yours,” she slurred, kissing his shoulder.

They stayed silent for a long time just listening to their breathing.

Sophia raised her head to look into his eyes. “I am yours. I trust you and I love you. Don’t forget this.”

He didn’t answer but snaked his broad hand around her nape to bring her down to a tender, long kiss.

Her hand pushed his bangs back from his sweating forehead as she broke the kiss. “Promise me.”

“What?” he asked, sated and spent, enjoying the way their bodies rubbed together.

“That you know that I trust you. That you believe that I’m yours. Only yours. That I love you. Only you.” Say it, please.

Trust. Love. He closed his eyes for a long moment. The thought swirled in Alistair’s mind and his heart tightened with fear. Mine. Only mine.

Sophia waited, her fingers softly combing his hair. She knew how difficult it was for him to surrender himself to all she was saying. No matter how many times they had talked about it, there was still a long way to go. Betrayal, as he had experienced, was a difficult thing to forgive. Or forget.

Sophia’s smooth touch soothed away the fear and when he opened his eyes there was certainty in them. With a firm voice, he answered her, “I promise.”

Good. I’ll keep reminding you when you doubt it. She laid her head on his shoulder and running a fingertip on his chest, said in an amused tone, “Do you know that this is the first time we have sweated making love?”

“Was it?”

“Mmm-hmm. We’ve always had the house cooled or something,” she explained. “You forgot to turn on the air-conditioning.”

“I was in a hurry.” He turned her onto her back and licked the sweat from between her breasts and her neck, his fingers running over her wet body.

His licks and touches stirred her pleasure anew.

He stretched his arm backward and with a touch, turned on the air-conditioner. The soft hum struck him with a thought. Wait! Why—Didn’t she like it? Uncertain, his fingers hovered over her navel to where a drop of sweat was making its way. His ink-black brows raised in doubt. “Was it bad? Sweating, I mean?” What the fuck, Alistair Connor? You never doubted your own skills.

“It depends,” she answered him seriously.

His brows rose even more. “On what?”

She gave him a mischievous smile and her elegant hand pushed him back on the bed and stretched his arms up over his head the same way he had done with her. “On what you are going to let me do to you.”

Fucking hell, Sophia! He felt the desire sparkle inside him again. His eyes flashed with mirth. “As punishment?”

She tsked twice at him, kneeling on the bed between his legs, her tongue snaking around the tip of his penis, enjoying their mingled tastes and her hand softly squeezing his balls. “As payment, Lord In-a-hurry. As payment.”

“What are the taxes due?” he asked in a hoarse voice, pushing onto his elbows to watch her as she engulfed his half-erection into her mouth and sucked, making him as hard as he was before.

She let him go as her hand took the place of her mouth and she bit his inner thigh. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

Fuck, yes! He groaned when she licked his balls. When she grazed the underside, her hand working him tight and fast as he liked, he hissed between clenched teeth.

She pushed him back on the bed and crawled over him. She kissed him, letting him taste both of them on her mouth. Rising on her knees, she placed her sprawled hands on his chest. Pinning him on the bed, she ordered, “Grab the edge of the bed and don’t move.”

She knew he was letting her play. He was much stronger and could switch their positions with a single movement if he so wanted. However, she wished to show him that she possessed a strong desire to conquer too. She could surrender to his whims sometimes, under the rules drawn by herself and agreed by him, but she needed him to surrender to her too. “You’re mine to do with as I wish.”

His eyes widened for a moment. He didn’t quite know what to do or to say because in spite of her words, of her superior position over him, she was not acting as a dominatrix. Of course. She doesn’t know how to do it properly. He would go along with her naïve, sexy play and let her do whatever she wanted. He suppressed his smile. Her name left his mouth in a playful grunt as if a warning, “Sophia.”

“Surrender.” Her smile was mischievous, grabbing him firmly in her hand. She informed him, “I’m going to ride you.”

That’s all? You can do better. His rumbled laughter died in a low moan.

Sophia had lowered herself and squeezed his erection with her inner muscles and raked her nails gently on his chest and dug them in his waist, steadying herself.

She is Sophia. My Sophia. He closed his eyes and surrendered his control to her. “So, do your worst, Beauty. Do your worst.”