EP.01 — The Vow
By the time she reached the end of the aisle, he was already ruined for anyone else.
The sun was setting behind them. An amber gold that drenched the waves and grass with a glow too perfect to be real. And yet, here she was. In white. Walking toward him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Elias couldn’t breathe.
Not because the air was salty.
Not because the suit was too tight.
But because Liana was smiling. At him. Like he was her future.
The white fabric of her dress moved with the wind, brushing against her legs like ocean foam. Her hair was half up, soft strands tucked behind her ear, a white flower clipped gently above the veil. No heels. Just bare feet on the grass. She wanted to feel the earth when she walked to him.
Alex sniffled beside him, holding the bouquet Liana had insisted on crafting herself. Luca stood stiff in the front row like he didn’t know where to look.
Liana reached him, eyes shimmering. She took his hand, breathless and glowing, and the world narrowed to just them.
They didn’t need words. Just this moment. Just each other.
And then, from the far end of the aisle, trotting with ears perked and eyes shining, came Miso in a black bow tie, a tiny satin box tied to his back.
It was almost perfect.
Until Miso suddenly sped up.
“Shit,” Elias muttered under his breath as the dog veered toward Liana at full speed. The crowd gasped, Alex reached out, but Elias was already moving.
In two strides, he bent down and caught Miso just before his front paws launched off the ground.
“Hey,” Elias warned low, holding the wriggling fluff in his arms. “You can’t ruin my bride.”
Liana laughed. Out loud. The kind of laugh he’d kill for, again and again.
“You trained him to deliver the rings, huh?” she teased, stepping closer, eyes twinkling.
“That was the plan,” he grumbled. “Didn’t think he’d try to tackle you instead.”
Miso whined in protest, tail wagging furiously as Elias handed him off to Alex, who grinned and whispered, “We’re keeping that part in the wedding video.”
The ceremony resumed. Quiet. Soft. Full of held breaths and hearts too big for ribs.
When it was time to say their vows, Elias didn’t use the paper he’d folded ten times in his pocket.
He looked at her, and nothing else existed.
“I didn’t know what a home felt like until you,” he said, voice steady but low. “And I used to think I wasn’t meant for one. But then I met you and you made staying feel better than running.”
Liana’s eyes glistened. But she didn’t cry.
“I don’t promise to be perfect,” he added, “but I promise to stay. And fight for us. Every day.”
She exhaled shakily, then lifted her own note. It was crumpled at the edges. Written in blue ink.
“I used to think I didn’t deserve a love like this,” she began, voice just above a whisper. “But you kept showing up. Over and over. Even when I was a mess. Even when I didn’t believe it.”
She looked at him then, really looked.
“You made me believe I could be whole. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you back. Not just in the easy moments, but even when it’s hard.”
A pause. And then—
“You’re my safest place, Elias. Always have been, always will be.”
They kissed under a sky painted in gold and peach. Miso barked. Someone cheered.
Alex definitely cried.
And as the sun dipped behind the horizon, Elias held her close and murmured in her ear,
“So this is what forever looks like.”
EP.02 — The Wedding Night
She wasn’t nervous. Not tonight. Not with him.
The sky was dark by the time they reached the beach house. Waves lapped lazily in the distance, wind brushing against her skin as Elias opened the door.
Liana stepped inside, and stopped.
The room glowed.
Candles lined the windows, soft golden light bouncing off the walls. White petals scattered across the floor, leading all the way to the bed, massive, draped in ivory gauze and warm shadows.
She turned to him, stunned. “Elias…”
“Alex helped,” he said casually, locking the door behind them. “But this—”
He stepped up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist.
“was for me.”
He kissed her shoulder, slow and deliberate. Her whole body shivered.
“You look like a fucking dream,” he murmured against her neck. “Now I want what’s under the dress.”
Her breath caught.
He didn’t ask again.
With precise hands, he pulled down the zipper, kissing each inch of skin he revealed. When the straps slid off her shoulders, she didn’t resist. Just let it fall.
And when she turned, he stopped breathing.
She was in a sheer white lace bralette and matching panties, delicate bows at the hips, skin glowing in candlelight.
“You like it?” she asked softly, voice barely steady.
Elias’ eyes darkened. No smile. No teasing.
“You say that now?”
He stepped in close, hand sliding up her spine to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair.
“After all the ways I’ve had you,” he growled against her lips, “you still think I can hold back?”
Her eyes widened. Before she could answer, he kissed her, deep, bruising, like a man starved too long.
She gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, lifting her off her feet.
He dropped her on the bed, and she bounced once, hair splaying over the pillows.
He stared.
Then pulled off his shirt in one swift motion, belt already undone.
She reached for him. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them over her head.
“Not yet,” he whispered, breath hot. “You don’t get to touch until I’ve ruined you first.”
He touche her. Then her thighs clenched. He noticed.
“Yeah,” he smirked. “Just like that.”
He kissed down her stomach, slowly, wickedly, then tore the panties down with a single tug.
“You’re already wet for me, baby,” he murmured. “So fucking ready.”
She whimpered.
He didn’t waste time.
He entered her hard, deep, both hands gripping her hips as she cried out, head tilting back, mouth parted in a silent gasp.
“Eyes on me,” he ordered.
She blinked up at him, dazed.
“I want to see you fall apart.”
He pounded into her, unrelenting, dragging moans from her throat and making her toes curl.
Every thrust hit where it hurt and healed, making her sob out his name between broken breaths.
“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing her leg and hooking it over his shoulder.
“Say it.”
“I—I’m yours,” she gasped, body shaking.
He leaned in, forehead pressed to hers, voice guttural.
“Again.”
She arched into him, voice cracking.
“I’m yours, Elias—please—”
He flipped her over.
Lifted her hips.
Drove into her from behind with a groan so raw it made her cry out, knuckles white as she clung to the sheets.
She came violently, with a scream muffled by the pillow. He felt her clench, ripple, fall apart.
And still, he didn’t stop.
He pushed deeper, rougher, his rhythm falling apart as he finally let himself go, grabbing her waist and burying himself in her one last time as he came with a hoarse, broken “Fuck, Liana—”
She collapsed, breathless.
He followed, pulling her onto his chest, hand still tangled in her hair.
“I married you,” he whispered against her ear, “so I never have to stop touching you again.”
She laughed, soft and sleepy, fingers tracing his chest.
“Then don’t.”
EP.03 — Arrival
I want somewhere quiet. And private. Where I can have you every night. -Elias
Liana woke up to the soft hum of the plane.
Her cheek was pressed against Elias’ shoulder, his hoodie warm beneath her skin. She blinked, disoriented for a second, then felt the shift of his chest as he chuckled.
“You drooled,” he whispered.
“I did not,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
He tilted his head down, smirked. “A little.”
She sat up, flushed, only to be caught mid-motion by his hand on her thigh. He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, his voice low.
“We’re almost there.”
They drove past endless fields of green, dusty olive trees and stone walls winding through the hills. The air smelled like summer and something sweet Liana couldn’t name.
When the car finally pulled up in front of a secluded vineyard estate, she blinked.
It was… perfect.
Old stone walls, arched doorways covered in ivy, and a view that stretched all the way to the golden horizon. There were lavender bushes by the front porch, and in the distance, grapevines rolled down the hills like waves.
“You found this?” she asked, still staring out the window.
Elias nodded. “Told Alex I wanted a place no one could bother us.”
She turned to look at him. “And what did you tell the hosts?”
He shrugged. “That it’s our honeymoon.”
Which it was.
Somehow, saying it still made her stomach flutter.
Inside, the room smelled like fresh linen and citrus. A bottle of local red wine waited on the table, along with a wooden tray of cheese, figs, and crusty bread.
Liana spun once, letting the wide white curtains billow around her. Her dress was simple, just a light cotton sundress, but Elias watched her like she was still wearing the lace from last night.
“You okay?” she asked, catching his stare.
He crossed the room in two steps, wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and pulled her close. “Just wondering how soon I can get this off you.”
She laughed, warm and free. “We just got here.”
He kissed the back of her neck. “Exactly. We’ve got days.”
Later that afternoon, they strolled through the town, hand in hand.
He carried a woven basket over one shoulder, now filled with cheese, fresh tomatoes, and two bottles of wine. She carried the flowers, small, wild, and smelling like sunshine.
Locals smiled at them, a few offering greetings in rapid Italian. One elderly woman stopped them in front of a bakery, hands raised in delight.
“Felicissimi! Auguri!”
Liana blinked. “What did she say?”
Elias grinned. “She said congratulations.”
Liana tucked herself against his arm. “We do look like the happiest people alive.”
He looked down at her, fingers brushing her cheek. “That’s because we are.”
By sunset, they were back in the villa.
Liana sat on the kitchen counter, feet swinging, glass of wine in hand and cheeks pink from the heat or maybe from the way Elias kept watching her over the rim of his own glass.
She wore one of his white shirts now, buttons half done, collar slipping off one shoulder.
He didn’t say a word as he crossed the room. Just set his glass down, stepped between her legs, and let his hands slide up her bare thighs.
She smiled, lazy and warm. “You like me stealing your clothes, huh?”
Elias didn’t answer. He leaned in, kissed the hollow of her throat, then murmured against her skin “Sleep early tonight.”
She blinked. “Why?”
He kissed her again. Lower. Slower.
“Because tomorrow…”
A pause. A smirk.
“…I’m not letting you walk straight.”
EP.04 — Grapes & Fingers
Somewhere between the taste of ripe grapes and his fingers inside her, she forgot what day it was.
There was something almost sinful about how good they looked together.
She wore a long, flowing dress the color of champagne, thin straps slipping over her shoulders, the fabric so soft it moved with every breeze. The hem kissed her ankles. Her hair was half-tied, loose strands framing her face like a painting. She looked like something from a vineyard fairytale, barefoot, glowing, and entirely unbothered by time.
And he…
He looked like a sin waiting to happen.
Elias had rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, the top three buttons undone, revealing the sharp cut of his chest and the shadowed lines leading lower. His trousers were dark, tailored to his frame, and his eyes didn’t roam. They fixed on her like he already had plans. Dangerous ones.
He carried a picnic basket in one hand, the other resting at the small of her back as they walked through the cobblestone path beyond the villa, into rows of private vines wrapped in morning sun.
They didn’t bring Miso on this trip.
This part, the honeymoon, was meant for just them.
No distractions. No interruptions.
Just heat. And hands. And the promise of being his, again and again.
The vineyard was empty.
Silent except for the breeze brushing the leaves and the soft crunch of grass beneath their feet.
Elias stopped under a patch of filtered light. He laid out the blanket, opened the basket, and pulled out fresh bread, ripe figs, soft cheese, and two bottles of wine.
Liana dropped beside him, smiling as she tucked her dress under her knees.
He handed her a fig, and she bit into it slowly, juice staining her lip.
“You’re not eating,” she said.
“I’m watching,” he said simply.
She flushed, rolled her eyes, and picked up a grape from the bowl. Held it out to him.
He didn’t bite it.
He leaned in, took it from her fingers with his mouth, then let his tongue trace the tips of her fingers before letting them go.
She froze.
He didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease.
Just leaned back on one arm and drank from the wine bottle.
“Don’t start,” she warned, voice unsteady. “We’re outside.”
He finally smiled. Slow. Dangerous.
“No one’s here,” he said, voice low. “I checked.”
She tried to act normal. Took a sip of wine. Another fig.
Then his hand slid up her leg.
She stiffened. “Elias—”
He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned closer, fingertips brushing the edge of her dress.
“This dress…” he murmured, running his hand up her thigh, “makes it way too easy to imagine what’s underneath.”
Her breath hitched.
She reached to swat his hand away, but he caught her wrist, held it there.
“You wore it knowing I’d lose my mind, didn’t you?”
“I just wanted to look nice,” she whispered.
“You do,” he said, voice rougher now. “Too nice.”
He pulled her onto his lap before she could think.
She straddled him, heart pounding, dress bunching up around her waist.
His hands slid over her hips, up her back, down again, slow, reverent, but hungry.
“You shouldn’t tease me out here,” he said.
“But now that you have…”
“I didn’t!”
She shifted on his lap, nervous, only to freeze when she felt it.
The hard press of him beneath her.
Her breath caught. She tried to move again, subtly, but it only made things worse.
Elias’ hands tightened around her waist.
“see what you’ve done?” he said, voice low and dark. “ride me.”
Her eyes widened. “Elias—”
She moved to pull back, flustered, but he didn’t let go.
“Too late now.”
He slid one hand up, lifting the edge of her dress.
His fingers found the fabric of her underwear, already damp.
He pressed over it, slow and deliberate.
“Already wet,” he murmured. “You wanted this.”
She opened her mouth to object, but her breath hitched when he pushed the fabric aside and slid one finger inside her, deep.
Her voice vanished.
She sat on his lap, trembling, as he moved inside her, slow, measured, but with a control that made her shake.
He leaned in, lips brushing her cheek.
“I told you to sleep early,” he whispered. “Now look at you. Can’t even sit still.”
Every movement made her breath stutter. Every curl of his finger dragged another moan from her throat.
When her body began to collapse against him, boneless and wrecked, he caught her. Lifted her.
And pressed her against the nearest wall of the vineyard, an old stone ledge hidden behind thick vines.
Her dress was already hiked up.
He didn’t waste time.
He entered her from behind in one hard, deep thrust, both hands braced against the wall beside her head.
She cried out, fingers clawing at the stone. She tried to bite back the sound, fail.
He buried his face in her neck, breath hot and uneven.
And moved.
Again.
And again.
Each thrust harder than the last.
“You feel that?” he growled. “That’s what you do to me.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
Only feel.
She came first, falling apart in his arms with a broken sob. He followed after, burying himself deep, body shaking as he poured into her.
She slumped back against his chest, legs barely holding her up.
He held her tight.
And whispered, lips brushing her ear
“Next time, you’ll ask me to bring you out here again.”
EP.05 — The Kitchen Table
She wanted dinner. He wanted dessert. She lost.
They didn’t talk much after the vineyard.
Not because there was nothing to say, but because her legs were still shaking, and Elias was too busy carrying her up the stairs.
She tried to protest. Really.
“I can walk,” she murmured.
“You just came on my hand, my lap, and my cock. Sit this one out,” he said, barely out of breath.
She gave up. Let her head fall against his chest, still catching hers.
By the time sunset fell, Liana had changed into one of Elias’s shirts, crisp white, too big, sleeves rolled to her elbows. Nothing underneath except a pair of cotton panties.
She stood barefoot in the kitchen, slicing peaches on the counter.
Elias leaned against the doorframe, wine glass in hand, watching.
“You sure you’re okay to cook?” he asked, voice low.
“I’m just cutting fruit.”
“You’re doing it very slowly.”
She shot him a look. Then put away the knife. “Maybe because someone wore me out this morning.”
He smirked, took a sip of wine, and said nothing.
But he didn’t stop watching her.
She was standing on her tiptoes, reaching for a bowl on the shelf when he moved.
He crossed the kitchen in two strides, set his glass down, and slid behind her. His hands wrapped around her waist, hot, possessive, steady.
“You really think I could sit here and watch you wear my shirt like that all night?”
She laughed, breathless. “You were literally just watching.”
“And now I’m done watching.”
He kissed the back of her neck. Bit her shoulder, just enough to make her gasp.
“You sure you want to eat first?” he whispered.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Starving,” he said, turning her around.
“But not for food.”
She was on the table before she could argue.
He lifted her like she weighed nothing, set her on the edge of the wood, and spread her legs with firm, deliberate hands.
She went still, breath frozen.
The cool air hit her thighs, and his hands were already slipping under the hem of the shirt.
“You smell like sunshine and sex,” he growled, crouching between her legs. “Sweet and fucked.”
She tried to speak. he licked a line up her inner thigh and she forgot how.
“Elias—”
“Shh.”
He pushed her panties aside and used his tongue like he was claiming her.
She couldn’t hold still.
Hands gripping the edge of the table, hips jerking with every pass of his mouth. He held her down when she tried to squirm, eyes locked on hers the entire time.
“You like being on my table, baby?”
She whimpered. Nodded.
“You look better here than any meal I’ve ever had.”
She was trembling when he stood, mouth still slick with her.
“Still hungry?” he asked.
She could barely breathe.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
He pushed her back gently until she was lying flat, her hair spilling over the wood.
He entered her slow, deep, one hand holding her leg over his shoulder, the other braced on the table.
The first thrust knocked her breath out.
The second had her crying his name.
Every time the table creaked, her body jolted under his.
Her hands clawed for something, his arms, the edge, herself.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Liana,” he growled.
She sobbed out, “I do… I feel all of it…”
He cursed. Picked up the pace.
Until she shattered beneath him.
But he didn’t come. Not yet.
Silence.
Only their breathing, and the faint sound of a plate slowly spinning to a stop somewhere across the table.
There were figs on the floor. A wine glass knocked sideways. Her peach slices nowhere to be found.
She lay there, bare, boneless, eyes fluttering closed.
“I can’t move,” she whispered.
Elias pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll carry you.”
He lifted her carefully, arms under her knees and back, and walked them into the bathroom.
“You’re not done with me, are you?” she mumbled, cheek against his chest.
He grinned.
“Not even close.”
