Chapter 3

Chapter 3

At the end of the day, Mark left his office, politely saying goodbye to the secretaries. Elena felt something missing the moment he walked away.

She said goodbye to the other secretary and headed for the elevator. Thinking her boss had already gone down, she rushed in so as not to waste time. And then… she bumped into him.

Mark caught her. She lifted her gaze, startled. A shiver ran through her entire body, an unexpected heat spreading across her skin. Her breathing quickened, and an intimate, disturbing sensation throbbed low in her body.

Immediately embarrassed by the way her body reacted, she pulled away with difficulty, murmuring,

“I’m sorry, I thought you had already gone down.”

“Don’t worry. That happens,” he replied, in a tone that sounded amused.

“Which floor are you going to?”

“The parking garage.”

“Of course,” she said, pressing the button.

Elena looked away from his hand, but she couldn’t ignore what she was feeling. For a moment, her mind traced disturbing images: his hands moving over her body.

She blushed deeply, mentally cursing her own imagination.

How can I feel this? she thought, incredulous with herself, inexplicably aroused.

In the parking garage, Mark said goodbye.

“Good evening, Miss Lancaster,” he said, in a low tone that made her body shudder once more.

He walked away, the security guard right behind him, and they entered the limousine.

Elena remained seated in her own car, hands on the steering wheel, unable to move. She took several deep breaths, trying to regain control, but her fingers tightened involuntarily around the wheel.

Only when she managed to relax a little did she start the car and head home. The drive felt far too long with the sensations still lingering inside her.

When she arrived at the small apartment where she lived with her fiancé, in a distant neighborhood where rent was more affordable, Elena still felt traces of arousal.

She turned off the engine and murmured to herself,

“What the hell… happened to me today?”

Elena entered the apartment, placing the keys where they belonged and glancing around. The place was a mess. The sink was full of piled-up dishes. She sighed when she saw Rubens playing video games, sprawled on the couch, barefoot, wearing shorts, loudly cursing every online opponent.

“Rubens?” she called, hesitantly.

“Just a minute…” he replied, without taking his eyes off the screen.

She knew that “minute” could easily stretch into hours.

She set her bag down on the table and went to the kitchen. She cleaned the sink, organized the space, and put the lasagna she had prepared into the oven. She made a quick salad and, while waiting, took a fast shower.

Wearing a robe, she returned to the kitchen and turned off the oven.

“Are you going to have dinner?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

He didn’t move, still glued to the screen, shooting virtual enemies.

“No, I already ate,” he replied distractedly.

Elena shook her head. He lived on instant noodles and fast food, and if he kept it up, he would end up sick. She sighed, resigned, and began to eat alone. The arousal she had felt in the elevator and the limousine had finally passed after the shower.

But slowly, as she washed the dishes, the sensation returned, more subtle, making her body tingle.

She looked at Rubens, biting her lip. Maybe the feeling would pass if she tried to satisfy herself with him. She approached the couch and slowly sat on her fiancé’s lap.

“Rubens…” she murmured softly, kissing his neck.

“Wait, Elena! Not now! Get off, get off or I’m going to lose to these bastards!” He pushed her away.

She sighed, defeated, and stepped back. At the window, a black cat that had been discreetly watching them disappeared along the ledge.

Elena walked to the bedroom, leaving her phone on the bedside table and closing the door. She sat on the edge of the bed, her body still restless. A tear slid down her face. It had been months since Rubens had touched her, since there had been even a single gesture of genuine affection. Everything revolved around the video game.

She sighed deeply and lay down.

The moment her head touched the pillow, the arousal returned with force, more intense and uncontrollable than before.

She sighed. She wouldn’t be able to sleep like that, so needy. So she did the obvious thing: she parted her robe slightly and placed her hand between her legs. She slid her fingers gently over her hot skin, extremely wet, literally dripping. Then she focused on the most sensitive spot.

The cat, which had moved away earlier, now watched from the bedroom window. With her free hand, she squeezed one breast over the robe, while the fingers of the other hand rubbed, with increasing speed, the core of all that heat. Her breathing quickened, and within moments her body arched in a loud moan as the wave of climax flooded her.

Now, finally, Elena could rest. Her body was partially satisfied, and the inevitable fatigue began to overtake her. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift into sleep.

The black cat remained at the window for a few moments, like a guardian of her rest, watching every movement, every breath. When it was sure Elena had surrendered to deep sleep, it left and disappeared into the night.

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Meanwhile, Mark walked barefoot through the bedroom, wearing only an old, heavy robe. Between his long fingers, he held a glass of red wine.

He approached the window, the breeze entering softly. He sighed, looking out at the garden and, farther away, the lights of the city on the horizon.

“Elena…” he whispered, his low voice carried by the wind, reaching her ears as she still slept.

Even drowsy, Elena stirred among the sheets.

He knew that even at a distance, his voice had the power to reach her, to make her restless, and for a moment, he smiled, satisfied.

Mark drank the wine in a single gulp, set the glass aside absentmindedly, and left the bedroom, walking down the hallway. Barefoot, he crossed the mansion until he reached the marble stairs.

Upon reaching the living room, he opened the glass doors and let the night air mingle with the dimness. In an instant, his body dissolved into dark, light smoke, which twisted softly before crossing the space to the edge of the outdoor pool.

There, the smoke condensed once more into flesh and bone, revealing Mark, standing still, staring at his reflection in the calm water. The liquid mirror reflected the aged body, marked by time. And then, in seconds that felt like an eternity, the reflection began to transform, gradually rejuvenating: the skin smoothing, the shoulders growing broader, the hair darkening and shining with life.

“Vlad… you must return…” he murmured, addressing his own image as a young man.

The reflection nodded serenely and vanished, leaving only Mark’s current form reflected on the surface of the water.