The ocean kept moving around them like a wild, chaotic cradle, but Artem’s hands were steady and sure. He gently turned Nona in the water until her back pressed against his chest. His strong arms wrapped around her like a warm cage, protecting her from the cold waves.

One of his hands slid slowly up her ribs, slipping beneath the soaked silk of her dress. His palm lay flat against her soft stomach, pulling her even tighter against the curve of his body. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest and the steady beat of his heart against her back. His other hand traced a gentle line up her throat, tilting her head back until it rested on his broad shoulder. Then his mouth found the sensitive spot just below her ear.

A shiver ran through her body — and this time it had nothing to do with the cold water.

“Artem…” she breathed, his name sounding like a soft surrender in the dark.

His lips moved slowly against her wet skin, leaving a warm, damp trail from her ear down to the slope of her shoulder. He kissed her softly at first, then gently grazed his teeth along her collarbone, making her breath catch in her throat. Nona’s head fell back heavier against him, giving him more access. Her body melted into his without thinking.

The hand on her stomach spread wide, his fingers pressing gently but firmly into her flesh, holding her close as if the next wave might try to pull her away. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The silence between them felt fuller and more meaningful than any words they had shared on the sand.

All she could focus on was the sound of her own pulse racing under his thumb, the way her breath hitched every time his mouth touched her, and the soft, willing way her body pressed back against him. The cold water swirled around their waists, but it felt far away compared to the growing heat building where their bodies touched — especially the firm pressure of his hardening cock against the curve of her ass.

Nona’s nipples were tight and sensitive from the cold and the excitement, rubbing against the wet silk of her dress with every small movement. Between her legs, a warm, throbbing ache had started to grow.

“I feel…” she started, her voice shaky and quiet. She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek against his, trying to find his eyes in the broken moonlight. “I feel real here. Like I can finally breathe.”

Artem’s hand stilled on her stomach. For a long moment he just held her, looking down at her face. His gaze moved slowly over the waterline on her throat, the dark sweep of her wet lashes, and the way her lips were still slightly swollen from their earlier kiss.

He saw the woman from the magazines — yes, he recognized her now — but right now, in the ocean, he saw Nona first. The real woman. The one who had walked into the sea alone and smiled at a stranger without hesitation.

His thumb began to stroke slow, gentle circles over the wet silk right above her navel.

“You are real,” he said, his voice low, deep, and completely certain. “Right here. Right now. With me.”

Nona let out a soft, shaky breath. She reached up and placed her hand over his where it rested on her stomach, threading her fingers through his. Her other hand slid back to rest on his thigh under the water, feeling the strong muscle there.

“I don’t usually do this,” she whispered, her voice barely louder than the waves. “Kiss strangers in the ocean at night… let them touch me like this.”

Artem smiled against her shoulder and placed another slow kiss on the side of her neck.

“Neither do I,” he replied honestly. “But with you… it feels different. It feels right.”

He gently squeezed her stomach, pulling her even closer so there was no space left between them. His hard length pressed more firmly against her ass, and this time she didn’t pretend not to notice. She shifted her hips back just a little, rubbing against him slowly, teasingly.

A low groan escaped from deep in his throat.

“You’re going to drive me crazy if you keep doing that,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot.

Nona smiled in the darkness, feeling bold and alive.

“Good,” she whispered back. “Because I don’t want you to stop touching me.”

The waves continued to roll around them, sometimes lifting them slightly, sometimes pulling at their legs. But they stayed locked together — his arms around her, his mouth on her neck, her body melting into his warmth.

For the first time in a long time, Nona didn’t feel like a famous face or a public person. She felt like a woman who was wanted. Desired. Real.

And Artem… he felt like the only thing that mattered in the entire dark, endless ocean.