The plane descended through the haze of late summer light, and the island unfolded below them — turquoise sea, white sand, cliffs carved by centuries of wind.
Amelia pressed her forehead to the window, breath catching softly.
"It's like a painting," she whispered.
Alexander smiled beside her. "Wait until you see it up close."
When they stepped off the plane, the air was thick with the scent of salt and lemon. A private car waited for them, and as they drove along the coastal road, the landscape shimmered — olive trees, sunburned hills, the sea glinting between them like glass.
He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "You're quiet."
She smiled faintly. "I still can't believe we're here."
He squeezed her hand lightly. "Believe it. You deserve the kind of peace that makes you forget the world exists."
The resort was breathtaking — a collection of white villas scattered along a private bay, each terrace cascading toward the sea. Bougainvillea spilled over every wall; the sound of the waves was everywhere.
As they entered their suite, Amelia's jaw dropped.
The room opened to a balcony overlooking an endless horizon. A private plunge pool shimmered in the sunlight; the air smelled faintly of jasmine and sea salt.
"This is…" she began, lost for words.
He smiled. "Home for two weeks."
"Home?" she teased. "You call this home?"
"Anywhere with you feels like one."
She turned away quickly, hiding the blush that rose to her cheeks. "You're getting good at this."
He laughed softly. "It's not a skill. It's the truth."
That evening, they walked barefoot along the beach, the sand still warm under their feet.
The sun dipped into the horizon, painting everything gold.
He stopped, facing the sea, and said quietly, "Do you know why I wanted to come here?"
She looked up at him. "Because it's beautiful?"
"That too," he said, smiling. "But mostly because I was tired of hiding. I wanted a place where I could hold your hand without wondering who's watching."
Her heart softened. "You really don't care if people find out?"
He shook his head. "No. I've decided I'm done caring."
She frowned slightly, unsure. "It's not that simple, Alexander. You're the CEO. I work for you."
He turned to her, eyes steady. "And so did Daniel — the senior analyst. Remember him?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"He's married to Sofia from Finance. They met in the company. He was her manager at the time. HR approved it, Margaret signed off, and now they have twins and a house in Cheshire."
She blinked. "Wait, really?"
He smiled. "Yes. No scandal. No drama. Just two people who decided to stop pretending they didn't belong together."
Amelia looked at the sea for a long moment, letting his words settle.
"So… this isn't going to ruin anything?"
"Only my ability to think straight when you're in the room," he said lightly.
She laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
He stepped closer, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Maybe. But I'm yours, completely."
The next days unfolded like a dream.
Mornings by the water, long breakfasts on the terrace, laughter echoing against the sea breeze.
He read beside her while she wrote postcards; they swam until the sun burned soft against their skin.
In the afternoons, they wandered through small villages — cobblestone streets lined with pastel houses, the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread in the air.
Locals greeted them kindly, assuming they were just another couple in love.
And maybe that's what made it perfect — the simplicity of it.
No board meetings, no titles. Just Alexander and Amelia, sun-drenched and free.
One evening, as they sat under a pergola of lights at the hotel restaurant, the world around them buzzed softly with the hum of music and waves.
She wore a pale green dress that caught the light every time she moved.
He couldn't take his eyes off her.
"You're staring again," she said, smiling behind her glass of wine.
"I told you before," he said, leaning in slightly. "I'm memorising."
She shook her head, laughing quietly. "You've got a terrible habit of saying things that make me fall for you all over again."
He smiled. "Then I'll never stop."
After dinner, they walked along the pier, hand in hand. The sea glowed faintly under the moonlight, waves lapping against the rocks.
"Do you ever think about what happens after this?" she asked softly.
"After the holiday?"
She nodded.
"I think," he said, "we go back to our lives. But differently. No more hiding. I'll tell Margaret. She'll understand — she's always valued honesty. And if the rest of the company wants to talk…"
He shrugged, his voice calm. "Let them. It doesn't change what's true."
Amelia stopped walking, looking up at him. "You're really not afraid, are you?"
He smiled faintly. "I used to be. I spent years afraid of losing control, afraid of what people would think. But then I met you."
Her eyes softened. "And now?"
"Now," he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw, "I just want to live. With you."
Later, as they sat on the balcony watching the moon rise over the sea, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I think I've never been this happy," she whispered.
He turned to her, smiling. "Good. Because I don't plan on giving it back."
She laughed softly, the sound carried away by the wind.
He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "You know, I've built companies, made headlines, spoken in rooms full of power. But none of it felt as real as this."
Amelia looked up at him. "Because this isn't about control."
"No," he said quietly. "It's about choice."
She smiled. "Then I choose this too."
He wraps his arms around her and kisses her. She wraps her arms around his neck and surrenders to the kiss.
He places his hands on her thighs, pulls her onto his lap, and goes into the bedroom, sitting on the bed.
His hands slip under her dress and roam between her thighs and her bottom. Between passionate kisses, he lays her down on the bed and begins by removing her thong, before even removing her dress. His hands slip under her dress, and his fingers begin to caress her as he looks into her eyes.
She smiles and moans at the same time, and his eyes shine with lust.
His mouth descends to where his fingers were and begins with small kisses on her pussy that then become passionate kisses.
She writhes on the bed and grabs his hair, as if she needed it to survive.
He continues the passionate kisses on her pussy, she's soaked, and he inserts a finger inside.
She gasps.
He thrusts his finger in and out, as if pounding her. Amelia moans his name in a slightly hoarse voice.
He stands up and undresses completely, then gets on top of her and begins pulling up her dress.
Amidst the passionate kisses, he quickly places her face down on the bed, with only her ass slightly raised. He presses his cock against her ass, and her breath catches in her throat.
He kisses the back of her neck and says, "Don't be nervous, love. You'll like it. I'll be gentle."
He points the head of his cock at her entrance, which is exposed due to the position, and her breathing quickly becomes labored.
He gives her shoulders a few gentle bites and slowly enters her.
She grips the sheets tightly, feeling him in a whole new way.
The gentle bites on her shoulders turn into passionate kisses, until he kneels on the bed and starts thrusting into her.
She moans with each thrust, louder and louder as the thrusts get harder. She feels his balls slapping against her pussy, and he lets out moans that almost sound like growls.
She becomes extremely aroused and spreads her legs even wider and grinds herself against his cock.
Her action makes him even more aroused, and his thrusts increase in force.
When he feels himself close to coming, he lies on top of her and strokes her clit with his fingers, making her come too.
When Amelia comes, her body convulses, and she moans loudly.
As soon as he feels her pussy pulsate around him and hears those moans, he cums completely inside her.
When they stop, both of their hearts are pounding and their breaths are labored.
He pulls her by the chin so she looks at him and kisses her. A passionate kiss and all he can say is "I love you so much."