Hey everyone — we’ve officially reached the end of Arc One: The Contract. This arc was all about laying the foundation—establishing who these characters are, what drives them, and just how tangled things can get. Next up? Arc Two: Barbados. And trust me… things are about to get hotter, darker, and way more intense. I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming. Thank you for reading. And please. Buckle up. 💀🤝🏿🙏
It wasn’t slow anymore.It was fast, and hungry, and messy.He turned me over like I weighed nothing, kissed me again like we hadn’t already broken every line.I didn’t care about lines anymore.His mouth was everywhere—my neck, my breasts, the curve of my waist. His hand slid between my legs again
CARA's POVHis hands moved with a kind of patience that made me ache.There was no rush in him. No fumbling. Just warmth—steady, deliberate, unrelenting. He touched my waist first, then trailed up beneath the hem of my top like he had all the time in the world to learn what made me unravel.I forgot
CARA's POVThe room was too quiet. Too still.Wesley’s shirt sat folded on my dresser, right where I left it after the beach. It still smelled faintly of him—warm cotton, salt, and something unnameably sharp. I walked past it without touching it, though my fingers itched.I had showered already. My
WESLEY's POVThe sand was still warm in some places.I had left the estate without a word—just unbuttoned my cuffs, rolled the sleeves, and let the sea draw me down like it always did when the world got too damn loud. The jacket was somewhere behind me, probably crumpled in a chair. I should’ve care
And God help me, I wanted him to do it again.A waiter passed with a tray of tiny desserts. I took one without thinking and immediately put it back, muttering an apology.I was unraveling.I moved to the edge of the patio where the string lights didn’t reach, settling beside a potted fern like I bel
CARA's POVThe chanting wouldn’t stop.“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”I buried my face in my palms, half laughing, half mortified. My skin was on fire—and not because of the humid night air or the string lights twinkling above us like a constellation of judgmental stars.I peeked at Wesley. He hadn’t moved. He