"What keeps you up at night?"

"You."

"What was the best phase in your life?"

"Falling in love with you and being your boyfriend." Areston is holding my hands over the table, his fingers clutching mine are drawing circles in the middle of both of my palms, his lingering gaze gleaming with warmth and amusement resting one mine.

"What was the worst phase in your life?"

"I don't need to tell you that. You already know."

When I left him. "When you're in a bad mood, what's one thing that would cheer you up?"

"You."

"Your most prized possession?"

"You, of course."

"When do you have your biggest adrenaline rush?"

"When I'm fucking you or test-driving my fighter jet."

I'm enjoying him indulging me like this. He's enjoying this just as much as I am. It's not surprising. He has proved to me time and again that making me happy is his biggest source of happiness and peace.

"That's very honest, your highness. Next question. What do you think of when you're by yourself?"

"You, of course. C'mon, Belle. At least put some effort if you're really going to bother me with a Q&A on a date night," he husks playfully, a hint of smile playing on his lips as he kisses my fingertips one by one leisurely.

The sensual pressure of his mouth against my skin sends heat pooling up in between my thighs, threatening to combust me.

I have to bite my lip to contain my groan.

We are seated on the luxurious top deck of his majestic sail yacht Hera in the Hudson River with a breathtaking view of the twinkling New York City skyline. 

Being the prodigal hedonist that he is, he paid every ferry and cruise service in the city and around to suspend their operations for their evenings and cancel their reservations so it can be just us on the water. Undisturbed and in complete privacy. 

After we returned home, he surprised me with a beautiful custom-designed backless silver Ralph Lauren dress, gold earrings, black lace panties, metal and crystal-embellished silver Roger Vivier pumps to match all laid out on the bed when I came out of the shower.

Some stuff you'd need for our first official date night since getting back together.

The pianist is playing Oscar Peterson's My One And Only Love. 

We were stuck in traffic when we saw this Instagram-popular pianist pushing his piano across the road and I'd told Areston that I would love to have him perform for me someday. Of course he hired him to perform tonight. The entire setting is a perfect dreamy scene. 

City lights twinkling on a starry night, the reflections of towering skyline dancing on the water with every gentle wave, the sparkling Brooklyn Bridge looming gracefully overhead, soft jazz filling the air, the cool breeze, the tranquil solitude of being in an isolated bubble regardless of being in the heart of the busiest cities in the world, and the company of my larger than life Mr. Testosterone-On-Legs.

"What is the craziest thing you've ever done, your highness?"

"Asking you to be my mistress. Craziest shit I've ever done. I should've married you and made you my wife instead," he reveals with a tender sincerity that makes my chest tighten with emotions I cannot even name. "Come here and sit on my lap if you're going to ask more questions, Belle. I need to be touching you."

His blunt admission and demand at the same time makes me chuckle. Classic Mr. Mercurial. "You're already touching me, your highness. What about all the rage you felt for me? You would've wanted me as your wife regardless of that?"

"Not touching you enough," he complains with a frown. "I'd have sorted all that out in bed. Come here."

I roll my eyes. "You're already too distracting. If I come to sit on your lap, we'd be forgetting this is a date night and you'd be dragging me into your bedroom to christen your bed and have your wicked ways with me. We're not doing that. We're talking."

He flashes me a conspiratorial grin, "It's our bedroom, Belle. Our bed where we can have just as great a conversation."

"Hard pass," I smile, squeezing his fingers, "What motivates you to wake up in the morning?"

"You."

"What makes you feel content?"

"You."

"Ugh. You're boring me. Let me change the direction of my questions. Who would you trust to take care of you when you're really drunk?"

"Ari or Kaden."

"Not me? August?"

"August and you are the kind who'd get drunk to give me company so no. Not really."

"I am appalled," I laugh. "If you were to die now, what would your last meal be?"

"You."

"What's your guilty pleasure?"

"I operate a social media handle under an alias to share my personal opinions and share often controversial views on matters I can't through my official profile. I use it also to predict the market, hint at my own company's upcoming projects, and to use viral Internet memes that promote my personal beliefs and interests. This account too has a massive fan following. I spent a total of 10 minutes every day on it."

"And no one knows it's you?"

"Apart from Kaden and my brothers? No. Some do suspect it's me. Some suspect it's my PR team."

"Best advice you've been given?"

"Trust my gut."

"Did it help?"

"It brought me to you."

I can't help beaming with pride. "Tell me a secret no one knows. I am certain there are many, but let's start with one for tonight."

"I hate repeating a pair of socks."

"I know that, your highness. That's not a secret. I need some real deal. Better if it's something related to me."

Gathering both of my hands in his, he holds it against his chest with one hand and lifts another to brush the little strands of my hair being blown by the gentle breeze, tucking it behind my ear, and cups my chin. 

My eyes search his face, it's impassive. I can't tell what he's thinking.

"I had skipped my graduation ceremony to come and watch your Valedictorian speech."

I gasp. "You did?"

"I couldn't bring myself to see you again so I sat outside at the bench by the entrance of the old campus and heard you speak."

My emotions choke me. "You never stopped loving me... and I thought."

"Next question, Belle."

"I am reeling."

His expressions soften. "If you start reeling and becoming sad every time you force me to open up about the past then what's the purpose of it?"

His honest argument brings a smile on my face even when my heart hurts. He's right. I can't allow myself to get worked up every time he opens up. My happiness is his biggest priority and that's the only reason he indulges me any way I want him to. No matter how silly or thought-provoking. If sadness and regret is how it's going to make me feel every time then I am certain he wouldn't bother opening up. He anyway doesn't like discussions of the past.

I shift in my seat, curling my fingers into his, and holding it against my chest just like he had done. "Do you believe in luck and miracles, your highness?"

"Not until I found you. It was my luck that you were born to be mine. It was a miracle I convinced you when you could've easily dumped me never to see me again for how I mistreated you," he answers with arrogant confidence.

"Do you believe there's life on other planets?"

"I wouldn't be spending billions of dollars every year on Mars missions if I didn't believe it, Belle," he snorts.

"What do you miss the most about me when we aren't together?"

"Everything. Your touch. Your smile. Everything. But I am more inclined towards your incessant chatter and your giggles like a small school girl. Lightens my mood anytime."

It brings an involuntary giggle out of me. "What do I do that makes you feel the most supported?"

"Your vocal admission that you'll accept me even if I turn out to be a serial killer," he chuckles. "Your trust in me."

"What could I do more of to make you feel more loved?"

"Let's start with not interacting with any male species."

"Ugh. Possessive jerk. Seriously, tell me."

"Just keep being you. That does the job."

"If you could turn back time, what would you do differently?"

"I would definitely marry you and make you my wife while back in college."

I try not to get stuck at the honesty of that statement. There's no doubt he would. "What would our alter-ego names be?"

"Hmm. Marauding Predator and Come-hither spitfire."

I grin. "What talent do you think I have that I don't know about?"

"I can make you cum all night long and not feel tired."

"I wouldn't mind it."

"Your body would. So would your beautiful cunt. I need to be able to use it the next day, tesoro," he smirks.

"So you're doing a favor to yourself in a way."

"Absolutely."

"Jerk," I laugh, "What's one place you would like for us to travel to together?"

"Morocco."

"Why Morocco?"

"I enjoy the desert. I've had a property constructed there in the middle of the Sahara and I'd like to take you there sometime. I think you'll love it."

"I think I'll love it too."

"Say if you weren't who you are and you won 1 million dollars, how would you use the money?"

"To bet on me and become who I am."

"Arrogant."

"Just confidence. I happen to be great with analytical predictions and accurate outcomes. And I happen to be great with coding and compiling shit from scratch just like I created my first app."

"Did you use your analysis while chasing me?"

"Of course. Everything pre-planned," he laughs.

"What person are you nice to but you really don't like?"

"I am never nice to anyone I don't like."

"Never?"

"Never."

"What's your most favorite outfit of mine?"

"The wedding gown."

"The wedding gown?"

"The one you wore in Sardinia because Selene wanted you to and then I made love to you in it," he smiles, lifting our entwined hand and directs it to his mouth and kisses it.

"That's your favorite? Really?"

"The moment I saw you in it, I got a glimpse of you as my bride on our wedding day. Though that was the last thing I wanted to think about back then, I couldn't help it. I was gripped by this powerful yearning to have you by my side as my wife for this lifetime and beyond so you can never leave again."

"That's why you were so quiet that night? You were overwhelmed with how you felt about me."

"Overwhelmed is a tame word for how I felt that night. I wanted to brand you as mine that night."

"That explains the hickeys," I giggle, blushing. "Last question now."

"Fucking finally," he sighs.

I roll my eyes and lean forward. "How are you, really?"

"Huh?"

"Tell me. How are you in general? I am not asking about your life with me."

"No one has ever asked me that question before," he frowns, holding my fingers against his mouth, his breath tickling me.

"Your wife-to-be is asking you now."

"I'm good."

"Really good?"

"More than good. I went to see Adrianna today, by the way. Earlier before picking you up from the gym and making you squirt."

My heart does a double flip. Not just from the reminder of how he made me not only orgasm thrice in row with just the expertise of his mouth, but also made me squirt so much, I covered his face with that liquid gushing out of me and he didn't even wash it. He wore it like a badge of honor until we reached home, made love in our bed, and then showered together where he took me against the wall in the shower again. I am surprised that he went to see his mother. It's something I would have never imagined. It's even rarer than watching him express desire to eat junk food.

"I was in the area and found myself ending up there," he adds.

"Tell me more."

"We had a sub. She insisted on making it for me when I told her I'm hungry. Though I had to stand by her side and guide her step by step. She's more pathetic than you in the kitchen, by the way," he teases and I narrow my eyes playfully at him. "It took me excruciating patience to narrate each and every recipe, help her find ingredients. I am glad I deal with you everyday so I am trained to have an incredible amount of patience. The woman couldn't tell the difference between salt and crushed sugar."

"Just like Jen," I laugh.

"True. She had never even entered the kitchen before."

"That's really so sweet of her to do that for you. Do you realize how happy you've made her today? Even you feel... I don't know the word."

"Lighter?"

"Perhaps?"

"She's not a bad person, Areston. I know you don't need me telling you this because only your own perspective and analysis could have pushed you to go see her and spend time with her. Something you have never done. You gave me a chance. She deserves one too. Don't keep her from her third son for something that probably wasn't even her mistake."

He doesn't respond, but I know he's absorbing my words. "She gave me a head massage."

"A head massage?"

"Yeah. She told me they consider me their miracle child. Gus is a fucking snake and a liar. He always boasts he's the miracle child of the family for no reason."

He tells me about how his parents were convinced after multiple failed tries that Adrianna could no longer conceive after Arion. Then Althea offered to be a surrogate and conceived Areston and a miracle happened. Within three months, Adrianna found out she'd conceived August.

"Bet she didn't say the snake and liar part," I laugh.

He himself is boasting like a child right now. It's the child in him that never saw his real parents. 

Althea was a great mother. At least she was there whenever he needed her, unlike mine. But I understand the kind of deep-seated insecurities would have settled in him after finding out the truth about his family. 

Now at least, he's seeing himself as a real part of it by embracing Adrianna in the role of his mother. Something that has been missing since he found out about them. 

Even though he would never admit it openly that he is opening a place for her in his heart. I don't think he even realizes it himself.

"How did you feel talking to her?"

"Different."

"Good different?"

"Perhaps," he says impassively, but I know it's a good one and he feels it too.

I brush his hair with my fingers, gazing deep into his eyes. "I am glad you went to see her. I can't tell you how happy I am."

"She would like us to have a daughter and name her Ariadne."

"Oh?"

He rolls his eyes. "She was in love with the name ever since she read Minotaur's story as a child and later wanted to give that name for her daughter if she had one. Arion, Areston, August, Adonis, and Ariadne. Those were the names exactly in the order she had in mind for her children."

"But Althea named you what her little sister wanted to name you."

"She did. Adrianna got the grave she had commissioned to memorialize me engraved with my name Areston Augustus De L'Aquila on the tombstone. When he found out that mom... her elder sister had taken her dead son's name and given it to her newborn a year later, she was hurt but she made peace with it and felt a strange sense of attachment that the name lived with me," his eyes are masking a great deal of pain in them. I can read it regardless of him maintaining an impassive face.

He's revealing a vulnerable side of him he reserves for no one, but occasionally me. "I am sorry for what you had to go through, baby. I can't even imagine how I'd deal if it were me."

He captures my hand in his hair and plants a kiss in the middle of my palm. "I know how I'd deal if you were to find out Jennifer isn't your mother. I'd throw a wild party and invite the whole world. I also won't be surprised to find out you're some Satan's child because only something pure evil can produce something so perfect to lure every creature on earth."

I shove at his chest, laughing. "You're such an insensitive jerk."

"Anyway, so my point is since Selene is having a boy, the request to use the name Ariadne has come to us," he drops his mouth to my wrist where my pulse flutters.

"Ariadne. I like the name," I say, blushing crimson, and elated that he's not tensing up at the topic of having kids someday. I know he isn't ready yet. He doesn't have to tell me for me to know. But that's okay. I'm happy in our own bubble for as long as we can be. "I also like the name Adonis."

"That name reeks of a heartbreaker, Belle. Surely you see that."

"It'll be alright as long as our son doesn't go on to break over 1800 hearts like his dad," I snort.

He scowls at me playfully. "They were just submissives."

"Humans with feelings nevertheless. I can guarantee there's no woman with a heart that can't fall in love with you at the first sight, your highness."

"You're the only one I want to be in love with."

"I am."

"And say it."

"I won't," I smile.

Rising off the chair with my hand in his, he tugs me gently out of mine. "Dance with me." It's a command. Not a request.

"Thought you'd never ask, your highness." Excitement flutters in my belly as he guides me to step into the open space of the deck of his yacht.

He takes my hands and locks them around his neck, and then settles his own on my butt, shamelessly cupping my buttcheeks a little with a devilish grin on his face. The yacht's soft lights cast a gentle glow around us, setting a beautiful romantic scene straight out of a chick lit. The cool breeze sweeps across the deck, tossing my hair as our bodies sway together to the mellow jazz tunes, our eyes locked, and the world seems to fade away. I smile, reveling in the delightful warmth of his frame against mine. His scent is driving my senses wild. His movements are assertive yet revered and full of tenderness, his cerulean gaze burning intense desire.

"I want to thank you for opening up to me, baby. Sharing your secrets without reservations." I tilt my head back and stare into his perfect face while clinging to his as he sways me gently in his arms.

He drops his head, nibbling kisses along my jaw. "It's easier to open up to you. I've never wanted to do it for anyone else."

"Why do you think that is?"

He shrugs, reaching out to tug the strands blown by the breeze behind my ear. "Because you're my better half and the only woman who has never tried to see through me or decipher me to know what's going inside of me. You merely gaze and you know. That's how visceral our bond is."

I smile. "Glad you chased me, huh? Worth the risk."

"Very glad," he laughs. "You're worth every risk."

He dips me around the end of the song, making my heart race and the surprise of the gesture makes me laugh. He chuckles in response. Cradling my body and head as he has me bend low, he lowers in his dark head and kisses me decadently, proprietarily, and wholly. Wordlessly declaring his love for me and claiming my body and soul. I thread my fingers in his hair, reciprocating my feelings, matching every stroke of his tongue entangled against mine in a hungry dance that flares need coiling deep in my pelvis.

"Dinner time," he whispers against my ear, pulling me back up.

I am breathless and grinning like a loon, my arms around his neck. "I thought we'll be drinking, dancing, and heading straight to bed."

"Would it even be a date night if I don't feed my little ogre?"

I laugh. "I am going to be appalled one of these days if you keep calling me that, your highness."

He swoops me up in his arms and carries me to the chair. Once we're settled, he signals for the server staff.

"A burger!" I gasp giddily when I notice the plate that's laid out in front of me.

"Not just any burger, tesoro. It's Wagyu. I had the chef from Japan flown in along with his ingredients to prepare it for you. I know you couldn't eat it back in Tokyo because I interrupted and spoiled your mood."

"Oh, my goodness. Yes! I was so pissed I couldn't have it because of your obnoxiousness. I can't believe you remember such detail. I shouldn't even be surprised."

"Consider this my gratitude for not having taken that guy inside your suite regardless of having every intention to do so just to teach me a lesson. I'd have flown to Tokyo myself and killed him."

I laugh, loving his over-possessiveness at times like this when he's being cute without even trying.

Fair enough, but I'll be the one you move on with. It's as simple as that. He had told me that night.

"I did move on with you," I chuckle, remembering it.

"You were destined to be mine all along, tesoro," he smirks arrogantly, knowing exactly what I mean. 

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