The dinner proceeded in that perfect balance between comfortable silence and occasional comments, always calm, always precise. When they finished the last dish, a seared wagyu that seemed to almost melt in the air before touching the tongue, Morgan set down her utensils with absolute elegance, tilting her head just a few degrees.
"We are satisfied," she declared to the waiter as he approached, even before he asked. "Bring the bill."
The waiter gave a brief, silent bow and withdrew.
Kazuya crossed his arms, slightly relaxed.
"You ate more than I expected."
"When the food is good, I eat," Morgan replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And when it isn't, I destroy the chef's reputation. Today it wasn't necessary."
Kazuya chuckled softly.
"Kind of you."
"It wasn't kindness. It was efficiency."
The bill arrived on a dark wooden tray with a thin, discreet metallic folder. Kazuya took it without looking at the amount, but Morgan tilted her face slightly, curious.
"Almost insignificant," she concluded after observing the number.
Kazuya smiled as he swiped his card.
"I'll pretend to agree."
They stood up together. Morgan adjusted her dress, running her hand over the fabric without hurry.
The underwater dining room looked different when viewed on the way back, as if the night had acquired another layer of depth.
On the way to the stairs, schools of colorful fish cut through the glass with smooth movements, reflecting in Morgan's eyes. She looked one last time at the tunnel, taking a deep breath—not because she needed to, but because she wanted to.
"Let's go," she said calmly.
The ascent was silent. The lighting shifted from deep blues to the warm amber of the surface, and when they emerged onto the external deck, the hot, humid night air enveloped them both.
The wealthy, brilliant city remained tranquil. The world seemed made of soft lights, dark oceans, and perfumed wind.
Morgan stopped beside Kazuya, gazing at the horizon for a moment. Her silver hair swayed with the breeze, like a veil of cold light.
"Where are we going now?" she asked, without looking at him, but there was something subtle in her voice, a touch of anticipation too controlled to be accidental.
Kazuya put his hands in his pockets.
"I booked another place."
Morgan turned her face slowly, arching an eyebrow.
"Another restaurant?"
"No."
"Another outing?"
"Not exactly."
Morgan observed his expression, calculating. And then something in the corner of her eyes sparkled, that kind of discreet sparkle that only appeared when she understood exactly what was coming.
"You booked a room," she concluded, with aristocratic naturalness. "Of course. I imagine not just anywhere."
"It's the most expensive love motel in the Maldives."
Morgan crossed her arms, her posture impeccable, but an almost invisible smile appeared on her lips.
"Excellent," she said. "Anything ordinary would be… disappointing."
They began walking along the illuminated avenue, side by side. The lights reflected on the calm water like melted stars. The streets were silent, elegant, so clean they seemed part of a set prepared exclusively for the two of them.
They passed over the glass bridge again, where the water flowed so close it seemed to want to touch them. Morgan looked down, observing their distorted reflection in the deep blue.
"Kazuya," she said, without averting her gaze. "Today… has been pleasant."
Kazuya raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Even with the price of the wine?"
"I said 'pleasant,' not 'perfectly efficient.' The wine merely helped."
He laughed.
"Good thing you're enjoying it… I mean, really."
"If I weren't, you'd know," Morgan affirmed. "I don't stay silent when I'm dissatisfied."
"That's true."
They continued along the avenue until Kazuya's car, an imported sports car with iridescent paint that seemed to change color with the coastal light, appeared gleaming discreetly in the exclusive parking lot.
Morgan slid into the passenger seat with the natural grace of a queen who could destroy a country but chose not to. Kazuya got in on the other side, starting the engine with a smooth, almost luxurious purr.
The dashboard illuminated the interior with a deep blue glow, matching the Maldivian night.
Morgan crossed her legs, rested her elbow on the door, and watched the city through the window.
"How long until we arrive?" she asked.
"Fifteen minutes."
Morgan turned her face to him, her blue-green eyes reflecting the dashboard light.
"Excellent," she said, with a low, impeccably controlled voice. "I want to see if the place is worthy of my patience."
Kazuya gave a crooked smile.
"Trust me."
"I do," Morgan replied with absolute tranquility.
The engine purred softly as Kazuya drove the car along the coastal avenue. Traffic there was almost nonexistent, not because the hour was late, but because that stretch of Malé simply didn't know the concept of "chaotic movement." It was an urban strip polished to seem perfect.
Morgan watched the city through the window, her chin resting on her fingers, her expression so serene that almost no one would imagine the hell she was capable of unleashing when crossed. The warm wind blew through the car's interior, stirring the silver strands of her hair. Sometimes she glanced at Kazuya without saying anything, but it was enough to make it clear that she was… satisfied.
After a few minutes, the buildings began to change. The architecture went from merely elegant to indecently extravagant. Low towers with opal glass facades, hanging gardens illuminated by golden lights, and geometric gates built to say, without words: only those who pay the impossible enter here.
The love motel appeared around the next curve.
The Pearl Elysium.
The facade resembled the stylized shape of a giant open shell, made of iridescent glass that reflected shades of blue, pink, and lilac as the light touched it. At the top, thin cascades of water flowed down the building's edges, falling like liquid, shimmering veils. The main entrance was flanked by perfectly pruned palm trees and modern torches with white flames.
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
"Understated," she commented.
Kazuya parked the car in the reserved spot and gave a sideways smile.
"On the outside."
"On the outside," Morgan repeated, exiting the car with automatic elegance. "We'll see the rest."
He walked over to her and offered his hand. Morgan took it without hesitation.
As they approached the entrance, an employee dressed in a white-gray uniform appeared immediately, bowing his head.
"Good evening, Mr. Kazuya. Lady Morgan. Welcome to the Pearl Elysium. The suite you reserved is already prepared."
Morgan glanced sideways at Kazuya.
"They know my name."
"Of course," he replied naturally. "I mentioned it."
"What exactly did you say?"
"That if they didn't treat you with attention, you'd destroy the building."
Morgan thought for half a second.
"True."
They passed through the automatic door, which opened with a light puff of perfumed air—a mix of white jasmine, fresh coconut, and something warmer, like amber. The lobby was vast, illuminated by soft lights embedded in the floor, reflecting off the dark marine glass ceiling.
In the middle of the lobby was an immense structure resembling a giant pearl suspended by transparent cables. From it dripped threads of liquid light, like luminous rain.
Morgan analyzed everything with demanding eyes.
"…Still understated," she said.
But the tone was too neutral to mean displeasure.
The employee walked ahead, leading them to an elevator with opaline doors. Upon entering, the environment changed: the interior was lined with frosted gold glass, with lines of light running along the sides.
"The suite floor is completely isolated," the employee explained. "Only you will have access."
Morgan gave a small nod of approval.
"As it should be."
Kazuya looked at her, amused.
"You really don't like sharing space with anyone."
"Sharing attention is irritating. Sharing silence is worse."
When the elevator opened, the hallway was almost dark, but an intentional, relaxing darkness. On the floor, bluish lights drew a smooth path, guiding them to a double door further ahead.
The Royal Ametrine Suite.
The best. The most expensive. The most sought-after by people who liked to flaunt… but rarely booked, because the price was so absurd it bordered on offensive.
The employee opened the doors.
And Morgan paused for a moment.
The suite was gigantic, practically an apartment suspended over the sea with crystal glass walls offering a direct view of the nighttime ocean. The internal lights were soft, golden, reflecting on the white marble floor with lilac veins.
In the center of the room, a giant circular bed with a translucent canopy that fluttered like liquid silk. In the back, a private pool illuminated by a soft violet glow, connected by an open corridor to the sea. Automatic curtains undulated without being touched, and crystal sculptures formed designs resembling sea flowers.
Morgan took a few steps inside, analyzing the place with the meticulous calm of a queen evaluating a palace offered as tribute.
"Better," she finally said. "Much better."
She turned her face to Kazuya, and for the first time that night, her sideways smile was not restrained; it was satisfied, almost provocative.
"I see you haven't unlearned how to choose places worthy of me."
Kazuya shrugged, approaching her.
"I know you far too well."
Morgan slid her fingers over his chest, without hurry, without losing her impeccable posture.
"Yes. You do."
She looked around once more, evaluating the infinite ocean view, the soft glow of the lights, the absolute silence.
And then she concluded, with a low, soft, perfectly controlled voice:
"We can continue."
Kazuya observed Morgan for a moment, his eyes capturing the subtle sparkle in hers, that invitation she rarely offered so directly. He approached slowly, without rush, because he knew that with Morgan, haste was a mistake she didn't forgive. His fingers touched her chin, lifting it slightly, and she allowed it, her lips parted in an expression of controlled expectation.
"Continue," he repeated, his voice low, hoarse, like the distant roar of the ocean outside.
Morgan didn't respond with words. Instead, she tilted her face upward, her blue-green eyes fixed on his, and it was she who initiated the kiss. Their lips met, soft at first, as if testing the ground. But quickly the kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining in a slow, exploratory rhythm. Hers was hot, insistent, dancing against his with a skill that mixed elegance and hunger. Kazuya tasted her, a remnant of the red wine from dinner, mixed with her natural flavor, sweet and salty, that always made him want more. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, while his other hand slid up her back, tracing the perfect curve of the black dress that molded to her body like a second skin.
Morgan reciprocated, her hands sliding over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, button by button, without breaking the kiss. Her tongue invaded his mouth with circular movements, licking the roof of his mouth, sucking lightly on his, creating a vacuum that sent shivers down Kazuya's spine. He groaned low against her lips, the sound muffled by the kiss, and tightened his grip on her waist, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric. The kiss became more urgent, their tongues clashing with an intensity that made saliva mix, trickling slightly from the corner of Morgan's mouth, which she didn't mind—she licked it back, cleaning with the tip of her tongue, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.
As they kissed, Kazuya slid his hand to the zipper on the back of her dress. He pulled it down slowly, the metallic sound echoing in the suite's silence like a promising whisper. The dress opened, revealing the pale, flawless skin of Morgan's back—she wore no bra, she never did, preferring the freedom that confidence in her perfect body gave há. He traced his fingers along her spine, feeling each vertebra, each tense muscle relaxing under his touch. Morgan broke the kiss for a second, breathless, her lips swollen and red, to murmur:
"Continue."
And then she kissed him again, her tongue now more aggressive, pushing against his, exploring every corner of Kazuya's mouth as if she wanted to possess it. He pushed the dress off her shoulders, and the fabric slipped like melted silk, pooling at her feet in a black puddle. Morgan was naked underneath, except for a minimal black lace thong that barely covered her perfectly depilated mound of Venus. Her breasts, firm and full, with pink nipples already hardened by the air conditioning and arousal, brushed against his chest through the half-open shirt. Kazuya touched them, his palms covering them, his thumbs circling the nipples in slow movements, squeezing lightly until Morgan arched her back, moaning into the kiss.
She retaliated, finishing unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, revealing his muscular torso, marked by old scars from fights he never explained. Her nails traced the hard lines of his abs, descending to his belt. The kiss continued, tongues intertwining in a wet, noisy duel now, with sucking sounds and heavy breathing filling the air. Kazuya nibbled her lower lip, pulling it lightly with his teeth, and Morgan responded by licking his upper lip, sucking it into her mouth.
"More," she whispered between kisses, her voice hoarse.
Kazuya obeyed, turning her back against the cold glass wall that overlooked the dark ocean. The contrast of the cold against her hot skin made her gasp, but she didn't protest; instead, she deepened the kiss, her tongue invading his with renewed hunger. He slid his hands down the curves of her body, squeezing her firm buttocks, feeling the softness of her skin under his fingers. Morgan undid his belt, opening his pants zipper with aristocratic efficiency, and pushed the pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. His cock, already hard and throbbing, sprang free, huge, with prominent veins, the head swollen and wet with pre-cum.
Morgan touched it, her delicate hand wrapping around the length, squeezing lightly as they continued kissing. Her tongue danced against his, exploring, licking, sucking with an intensity that made Kazuya grunt. He reciprocated, sliding his hand forward, between her legs, brushing the damp thong. He felt the heat, the moisture seeping through the fabric, and pushed the thong aside, his fingers finding the swollen, slippery lips.
The kiss broke for a moment as Morgan moaned, but she pulled him back, their tongues clashing again in a wet frenzy. Kazuya lifted her in his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her to the circular bed in the center of the suite. The translucent canopy fluttered around them like a veil of mist. He laid her down with care but firmness, her body sinking into the soft mattress, her silver hair spreading like moonbeams.
Kazuya knelt between her legs, kissing her neck, descending to her breasts. He licked one nipple, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue circling the hardened tip while his hand massaged the other breast. Morgan arched her back, her fingers digging into his hair, guiding him lower. He obeyed, trailing kisses down her flat stomach, over her navel, until he reached the thong. He pulled it down slowly, revealing her perfect pussy, depilated, with pink, swollen lips, the clitoris already prominent, glistening with moisture.
He blew lightly there, feeling her tremble, and then lowered his mouth. His tongue touched the clitoris first, a slow, circular lick that made Morgan moan loudly.
"Kazuya…" she murmured, her controlled voice cracking slightly. He continued, his tongue dancing over the clitoris, sucking it gently between his lips, while two fingers slid inside her, feeling the hot, tight walls contract around them. He moved his fingers in a steady rhythm, curling them to hit her G-spot, while his tongue licked, sucked, circled with precision.
Morgan writhed, her hands clutching the sheets, her hips rising to meet his mouth. He increased the pace, his tongue pressing harder, his fingers fucking her slowly but deeply. Her taste was sweet, salty, intoxicating; he licked the inner lips, sucking them, returning to the clitoris with rhythmic sucks. She moaned louder now, her body tense, her thigh muscles trembling.
"Don't stop…" she ordered, her voice hoarse.
Kazuya obeyed, accelerating, his tongue vibrating against the clitoris while his fingers curled more, hitting the sensitive spot repeatedly. Morgan arched her back violently, a cry escaping her lips as the orgasm hit her, hallucinatory, waves of pleasure pulsing through her body, her inner muscles clamping his fingers like a vise, jets of moisture flowing into his mouth. He kept sucking, prolonging the climax, until she collapsed, panting, her chest rising and falling.
But Morgan wasn't one to remain passive. Before Kazuya could recover, she pushed him upward, reversing positions with feline grace.
"My turn," she said, her eyes gleaming with determination. She knelt between his legs, her silver hair falling like a curtain. His cock, huge and throbbing, pointed upward, veins pulsing, the head red and swollen.
She touched it first, her hand wrapping around the base, squeezing lightly as she leaned in. She licked the head slowly, her tongue circling the pre-cum, savoring the saltiness. Kazuya grunted, his fingers digging into the sheets. Morgan looked him in the eyes as she opened her mouth, swallowing the head, sucking gently. She descended slowly, her hot, wet mouth enveloping more of the length, her tongue dancing along the underside, tracing the veins.
She sucked with impeccable skill, rhythmic movements, up and down, her hand stroking the base that didn't fit in her mouth. She gagged slightly when trying to take it deeper, her eyes watering, but she didn't stop. She used her saliva to lubricate, her mouth making wet, slurping sounds as she accelerated. She sucked the head hard, her tongue swirling, then descended again, forcing the cock to the back of her throat, the muscles contracting around it.
Kazuya moaned loudly, his hips rising involuntarily.
"Morgan… fuck…" he murmured, his hand in her hair, guiding without forcing. She increased the pace, sucking voraciously, gagging on purpose to create vibrations, her throat tightening around his cock. He felt the orgasm approaching, his balls contracting, and exploded—hot jets of cum filling her mouth, flowing down her throat as she swallowed everything, not wasting a drop, her eyes fixed on his in triumph.
Panting, Kazuya pulled her up, kissing her again, tasting himself on her tongue. But he didn't stop there. Immediately, he turned her onto her back on the bed, positioning himself between her legs. His cock, still hard, brushed the wet entrance of her pussy.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Always," Morgan replied, arching her hips.
He pushed in slowly at first, the head parting the lips, feeling the tight heat envelop him. He slid inside, inch by inch, to the hilt, filling her completely. Morgan moaned, her nails digging into his back. He began to fuck, slow and deep movements, pulling out almost entirely and thrusting back with force, hitting her cervix. Her pussy clenched around him, wet and pulsing.
He accelerated the rhythm, fucking her with rhythmic thrusts, his hips slapping against hers. Morgan came first, her inner walls contracting, milking his cock as she screamed his name. He continued, turning her onto her side, one leg raised over his shoulder, fucking deeper, his fingers on her clitoris to prolong the pleasure. She came again, her body trembling, but he didn't stop, changing positions—to doggy style now, pulling her silver hair like reins, giving firm slaps to her perfect ass, leaving red marks that made her moan louder.
"Harder," she demanded, pushing her hips back.
Kazuya obeyed, fucking with force, his cock plunging in and out in a brutal rhythm, the slaps echoing in the room. He felt the orgasm approaching again, and when it came, he filled her womb with hot jets of cum, pulsing inside as she came for the third time, her muscles milking every drop.
But it didn't end. He pulled out, cum dripping down her thighs, and aimed for her perfect, tight, pink asshole. He lubricated it with her pussy's moisture, pushing in slowly. Morgan moaned, relaxing, allowing entry. He slid inside, the tight ring gripping him like a vise. He started slowly but soon accelerated, fucking her ass with deep thrusts, pulling her hair, slapping her ass, alternating between squeezing the cheeks and spanking.
She moaned uncontrollably now, her body sweaty, her breasts swaying.
"Fuck… fuck me completely…" she murmured, coming again, her asshole contracting around him. Kazuya continued in various positions—on their sides, with her on top, grinding on his cock in her ass, then face-to-face again, her legs over his shoulders for deep penetration. He alternated between pussy and ass, filling her with cum more times, the slaps leaving her ass red, the hair-pulling making her arch in ecstasy.
Hours passed in a blur of pleasure, sweaty bodies colliding, moans echoing in the suite. Morgan, always controlled, surrendered completely, and Kazuya pushed her to the limit, until both collapsed, exhausted, entwined in the rumpled sheets, the ocean outside witnessing their perfect chaos.
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