My head begins to pound as the sun shines brightly through the window. I slowly sit up and realise I'm not in my room. I look around and begin to feel panic consume me. The room is adorned in blue, white, and black. The walls are covered in framed pictures of unfamiliar landscapes and abstract art.

The furniture is sleek and modern, with clean lines and minimalistic designs. My heart races as I try to piece together how I ended up in this unfamiliar place. I search my memory, but it's hazy, fragmented, as if someone had erased certain moments from my mind. A wave of unease washes over me, and I instinctively reach for my phone, only to find it missing. A sense of isolation settles in, amplifying my anxiety.

The door opens, and in strides Cruz, his body tense and his expression filled with concern. "How are you feeling?" He quietly asks before handing me an Advil and a cup of coffee. I can't help but look at his muscular frame, his shirt clinging to his chest, accentuating every sculpted muscle. The combination of his piercing gaze and rugged look sends a wave of attraction through me.

My mind goes to a dark place, and all I can think about is wanting his body up against mine. Why does this man have this effect on me? I try to shake off these sexual thoughts, reminding myself that they're inappropriate in this situation. But as he leans in closer to hand me the Advil, his cologne fills my senses and intensifies my desires. I quickly divert my gaze, feeling a rush of guilt and embarrassment for even thinking such things. Control yourself, I scold myself silently, forcing my mind back to the present conversation.

As he moves closer, the air becomes charged with an undeniable and seductive energy. Goosebumps trace their way across my skin as he leans in, his voice low and sultry. "Are you okay?" he whispers softly. A surge of desire courses through my veins as my body responds to his words, igniting a passion that I never knew existed within me.

"I have a little headache, but I'm fine. Is this your room?" I ask him, and he nods. "Why did I wake up here?" Confusion takes over. I try to recall how I ended up in his room, but I draw a blank.

"Diego put something in your drink to make you pass out," he confesses, his voice filled with guilt. But as he continues to speak, I feel like he is hiding something else. "I brought you in here to make sure you were okay."

I get up and walk toward him, my eyes locking on his. "Thank you." I reply, my voice filled with sincerity. I turn around and go to walk away when his hand grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. He pulls me closer, his grip tightening. I can feel his breath on me as he whispers softly in my ear. "I want you. I don't know why; I just do." My heart races as I struggle to find the right words. He spins me around, his lips pressing against mine. I close my eyes, losing myself in the intoxicating kiss.

As our lips meld together, a surge of desire rushes through me, igniting every nerve ending in my body. The world around us fades away, leaving only the intensity of our connection. His touch sends shivers down my spine, and I find myself surrendering to the overwhelming chemistry between us. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, as if each of us is trying to convey a lifetime of longing in this single moment.

Time seems to stand still as we explore each other's mouths, our bodies pressed tightly against one another. The taste of his lips and the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me ignites a fire within me that I never want to extinguish.

I push him away. "I don't play by your rules, remember?"

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. "I know, but I can't help myself," he whispers, his voice husky. "Being with you feels like breaking all the rules is worth it." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I'm tempted to give in to him completely. But then I remember the walls I've built, the promises I've made to myself. I take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. "I can't do this," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Luca, Cruz! Get up; breakfast is ready." I hear my mother shout. I reluctantly pull myself away from him, longing for just a few more moments in that intoxicating embrace.

I quickly adjust my dishevelled appearance and make my way downstairs, trying to shake off the intense desire that still lingers. As I sit at the breakfast table, the scent of freshly baked bread and warm coffee fills the air, but my mind remains fixated on the stolen moments with Cruz. The way his touch sent shivers down my spine and the electricity that pulsed between us are things I can't seem to forget.

🗡

After breakfast, Mom and Catarina inform us that they are heading to the market and that Luis is at the office. I make my way upstairs and to my room. I sit on the edge of the bed, lost in my thoughts and replaying those stolen moments with Cruz over and over again. I finally manage to get up and quickly brush my teeth as I let the steam from the shower fill the bathroom.

I step into the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away my longing for him. As the water cascades down my body, I close my eyes and let my mind wander back to Cruz. His touch, his scent, his gentle whispers—they all flood my senses. Despite my efforts to wash away my longing, the steamy water only intensifies my desire for him. Every droplet that hits my skin feels like a bittersweet reminder of what we shared, and the ache in my heart grows stronger with each passing second.

In the heat of the moment, my mind races with thoughts of our passionate encounters. The steam fills the bathroom, creating an atmosphere of secrecy and desire. I can't help but let my hands wander across my body, imagining it's him touching me. The water becomes a symbol of our connection, as each droplet that slides down my skin mimics the sensation of his gentle caresses. Lost in this intimate fantasy, I surrender to the overwhelming urge to satisfy my longing for him. I crave his touch so intensely that my body aches with desire.

In the privacy of my bathroom. I find myself immersed in a sensual exploration of my own desires. By thrusting my fingers into my body, I unlock a world of pleasure and self-discovery. With every movement, I surrender to the ecstasy that builds within me. The intimate act becomes an invitation for my fantasies to come alive, as if a skilled and knowing lover is fueling my pleasure. The increasing intensity sends waves of electric pleasure coursing through my entire being, amplifying every touch and stroke.

"I can help you." I hear his voice whispering in my ear. I feel his body pressed against mine, his hand removing mine and replacing it with his own fingers and he delves deep within me. I give into the intoxicating trance he puts me through but within mere seconds, I pull away. I turn around, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His presence electrifies the air, intensifying the desire that courses through my veins.

I look him up and down and feel a rush of excitement overwhelm me. But this is wrong; this isn't something we should be doing. "Get out," I say, but he just stands there, his lips curled in a devilish grin. "Fine." I push past him and step out, grabbing a towel and wrapping myself.

The cool breeze from the ocean hits my skin as I step into my room. My phone rings, and I look at it.

"Ahhhh." I scream as I toss my phone. Mackenzie again with the photos. I get it. You have Caleb; it's not like he was a prize to begin with. I walk over to my bed and collapse onto it, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

"Woah, what do we have here? She's hot." I look over to see Cruz with my phone in his hand, scrolling through my messages. "Who's Caleb?" He looks at me with one brow arched. I sigh and snatch my phone back from Cruz's hand, my frustration mounting. "Caleb is just someone from school," I reply dismissively, not wanting to get into the details of my complicated relationship with him.

Cruz smirks knowingly, clearly not convinced by my vague response. "Sure, just someone from school," he teases, raising an eyebrow suggestively. I roll my eyes, realizing that Cruz won't let this go easily. "Can you please just give me some privacy?" I plead, my exhaustion seeping into my voice.

Cruz smirks and replies, "Privacy? What's that?" with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He continues to hover around me, ignoring my request.

"So Caleb, is that your boyfriend?" My eyes narrow in his direction, and he begins to laugh. "It would make sense since you keep pushing me away."

"I'm not pushing you away. I just don't want you." I respond. "You're not what I'm looking for, Cruz. Can't you understand that?" My frustration begins to boil over as he continues to invade my personal space. His laughter only fuels my determination to distance myself from him. "I deserve someone who respects my boundaries and understands the meaning of privacy." I look away, hoping that my words will finally sink in. But instead, Cruz's smirk widens, and he leans in closer. "You can deny it all you want, but I see right through you," he whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You can't resist me."

I cross my arms and give him a cold stare, refusing to dignify his statement with a response. "Oh, come on, Bambi." He squints his eyes. "Do you miss him?" he asks. I shake my head and turn away, hiding the pain in my eyes.

Cruz's taunting words cut through the air, his smirk widening as he revels in my discomfort. His persistence in invading my personal space only fuels my frustration, but I refuse to let him see how much his presence affects me. Ignoring his probing questions about my relationship with Caleb, I keep my arms crossed tightly, silently challenging him to continue his mind games. But the pain lingers, hidden behind a facade of indifference, as memories of Caleb flood my mind.

Cruz leans in toward me, his eyes searching mine. "He hurt you, didn't he?" I can see the concern in his eyes, but I remain steadfast in my resolve to keep my emotions guarded. "That's none of your business," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me.

"You know, I'm really good at getting revenge. I can help you hurt him right back." He smiles mischievously while taking my phone. His offer tempting me with the possibility of justice. A part of me is tempted to accept, knowing that Cruz's cunning mind could outwit Caleb at his own game. But another part of me hesitates, unsure if revenge is truly the answer to healing the pain I carry within. His lips linger near my neck, and I feel my breath become heavier. "How?" I finally ask. "Like this."

He responds as his lips press into mine. The kiss is electrifying, sending a jolt of desire through my veins. In that moment, all thoughts of revenge and pain fade away, replaced by a raw, intense connection with Cruz. His touch ignites a fire within me, erasing any doubts I had about seeking retribution. As his hands trail down my body, I realise that perhaps revenge isn't the answer I was searching for. Maybe, just maybe, finding solace in Cruz's arms is the true path to healing.

His hands linger up my thigh, leaving a tingling sensation that makes me forget all about revenge. His finger on my sensitive spot sends shivers down my spine. I lose myself in the moment, every ounce of anger and bitterness melting away as Cruz's touch becomes my sole focus. With each caress, a warmth spreads through my body, soothing the wounds that vengeance had left behind. As his fingers explore my most intimate places, I surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure, realising that in his embrace lies a form of healing I never thought possible.

A smile covers his face as I release every drop of the bliss he just put me through. "That's how." He says and hands me my phone back. He lays down and pulls me into his chest. "You're different, you know that?" He tells me.

"How?" I ask, curiosity filling my eyes, eager to understand what sets me apart from everyone else.

"What I just did for you, I've never done for anyone else before." He looks at me. "I've always gotten something in return."

Of course, what was I thinking? All this man thinks about is sex. Is that what he wants in return? Because it won't happen! My eyes narrow in his direction, anger fuming me. "So, you want sex in return?" I demand, my voice filled with frustration and disbelief. He stares back at me, his expression unreadable.

"No, that's not what I want," he mutters softly, avoiding eye contact. "I just want to hold you." My anger subsides, replaced by confusion. Hold me? The words hang in the air, floating between us like a delicate secret. I can't help but wonder if there's more to his statement hidden beneath the surface. But his eyes betray no ulterior motives, only a vulnerability that I've never seen before. Something about his confession tugs at my heart, a longing that I can't quite explain.