Page 68 of Under Your Scars

“Who said we’re staying at a hotel?”

“Oh sorry, is that not what rich people call the Ritz?”

Christian playfully rolls his eyes. “There isn’t a Ritz-Carlton in Mykonos. Get in the car.”

I narrow my eyes at him, suddenly realizing that he’s up to something. “Make me.”

He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder and I let out a fit of giggles as he shoves me into the back seat, silencing me with a kiss before buckling my seatbelt for me. He drapes his arm around my shoulders and the driver takes off.

A short while later, the driver mutters something in Greek, and Christian answers back casually before turning his attention to me.

“Close your eyes,” he commands.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll ruin your surprise if you don’t.”

I smile and then close my eyes. He warns me not to peek and it feels like an eternity before the car stops.

He helps me out of the car and holds me to his side as he steers me towards wherever we’re going. When we finally stop walking, Christian angles me towards something and then wraps his arms around me from the back, using his hands to cover my eyes. I smile with anticipation.

He places a kiss to the shell of my ear. “When we met, I knew you were going to be the most important thing in my life, but I didn’t realize just how much I’d be wrapped around your finger. I’d do anything for you.” He kisses the curve of my neck. “You’ve always wanted to visit Mykonos, right?” I nod and jump excitedly in his arms. “Well now we have somewhere to stay every time we visit.”

He lowers his hands, and my eyes fly open. I suck in a sharp breath and my hands both immediately go to my chest in awe. My eyes turn glassy. Blush creeps to my cheeks and my knees feel weak.

I’m staring at a massive, and I meangargantuanwhite yacht gently swaying in the tide.

“Christian…” I gasp, unable to form words or sentences. All I can do is stare in utter shock and amazement. “Oh my God. It’s beautiful.”

“Just like its namesake,” he says into my neck. I turn to him, and he simply turns my head back to focus on the words painted on the side of the boat.

The Elena.

I laugh through my tears at just how surreal it feels. I turn again to face him and rise up on my toes to kiss him fiercely, because it’s the only thing I can do to convey every emotion running through my veins that I can’t put into words. “You’re so perfect it makes me angry,” I mumble against his lips. “You could have bought me a tub of ice cream and I’d be happy, but this? Christian, I have no words.”

He kisses me again, smirking. “You have a billionaire worshiping the ground you walk on, flying you all over the world on his private jet and buying you a hundred-million-dollar yacht, and you’re thinking about ice cream.” He takes my hand and leads me onto the boat, keeping me steady as I adjust to the gentle sway.

Despite how late it is and the jet lag, I’m wide awake. On the main deck, a bottle of champagne is sitting in a bucket of ice, and a soft melody of violins dances through the speakers. Between the moonlight and the beautiful ambience, I’ve never felt happier than I do right now. There’s nothing but joy in my heart. Christian twirls me in tight circle before pouring us each a glass of the light, sparkling drink. He wraps his arms around me, and we sway to the music, his chest to my back and his head resting on my shoulder.

“I could stay here forever, just like this,” he whispers into my ear. I turn my head to look at him, cup his cheek, and press a long kiss to his lips. He whisks me into his arms, pulling a giggle from me as I wrap my legs around his waist. I pepper kisses to his neck as he carries me through the yacht, stumbling into a large bedroom and depositing me near a tub. “Take off your clothes.”

I do as he says, stripping down sensually, slowly, relishing in the way he watches me as I undress for him. When I’m naked, I lick my lips, growing wet at the sight of his bulge behind his pants, aching for me as I am for him.

“Your turn,” I breathe.

He gives me a wicked smile and takes a step towards me, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before slowly sinking down to his knees, trailing kisses down my body as he does. His fingers dig into the backs of my thighs and his tongue just barely grazes over my clit. I throw my head back and sigh in delight, and then he turns on the water and lets it fill the tub as he licks me—not so much to bring me to release, but still enough to bring me pleasure. My knees go weak, and I sit on the edge, perching my legs wide open on the rim to give him better access, trying to urge him to give me more.

It almost brings tears to my eyes from how bad I want it. How bad I want him to take me right here on the floor of this grand yacht, to christen it as ours.

“Get in,” he commands. I step into the perfectly hot bath, sighing as I lower myself into it. He stays kneeling next to the tub, dipping his fingers into the water and playing with one of my nipples until it’s an aching peak.

“Why won’t you get in with me?” I ask. Another wicked smirk comes to his face, and he toes off his shoes, removes his belt and his watch, and then gets into the tub fully clothed. I laugh as the water sloshes over the side, and he settles his weight on top of me.

“Is this what you wanted, Elena?”

I giggle. “You know what I meant. You don’t…you don’t ever take your shirt off around me.”

He takes a deep breath and his lips pucker in a way that makes me regret bringing it up. I seem to have a tendency to do that with him.