I still can’t quite believe we’re here. Married. A week ago we were standing in the sun in Italy, saying vows with shaky voices and smiles so big my cheeks hurt. Now it’s just us, tucked away on this little slice of the Maldives, in a villa that feels like it was built only for us. No paps, no strangers sneakin’ photos. Just sand, sea, and the two of us.

I wake slow, body heavy from sleep, the sound of the waves rolling in through the open doors. You’re already out on the deck, hair pulled back, your body glowing in the late morning light. You’re leanin’ on the railing, starin’ at the water like it’s whisperin’ secrets. I stay in bed for a minute, just watchin’. Married. My wife. That word does something to me every time it crosses my head.

The villa’s all clean lines and wood, pale stone floors that stay cool underfoot, a round rug that catches the morning sun. Beyond it, that railing. Solid, smooth, overlooking a view that feels unreal. And the thing is—I can’t stop thinkin’ about it. About you bent over it. About the way I’d hold you there, take you there, with the ocean watchin’ but no one else around.

I shake my head, laugh under my breath. “You’re a menace,” I mutter to myself, pushin’ off the bed. I tug on a pair of loose shorts, pad barefoot across the floor. The air smells like salt and suncream, mixed with the faint sweetness of the fruit we had last night.

You don’t turn when I come up behind you, but I see your shoulders relax a little, like you already know it’s me. My hands slide around your waist, pulling you back into me, chest pressed against your back. I bury my face in your neck, press a kiss there. Soft, then another. “Morning, wife,” I murmur, my voice still rough with sleep.

You tilt slightly into me and I can’t help grinnin’. My fingers trace lazy patterns along your stomach, my thumbs brushing over your skin. God, I’ve missed this—missed just bein’ close without a timetable, without crew or rehearsals or cameras. Just us.

“You look too good standin’ here, you know that?” I whisper against your ear. “Drivin’ me mad.”

The ocean’s glitterin’, breeze pushin’ at the curtains behind us, but all I can think about is you. My hands roam slower, down your hips, back up again, just touchin’, not rushin’. I’m needy, yeah, but it’s wrapped in somethin’ sweeter too. You’re mine now, properly mine, in a way I’d been dreamin’ about for years.

I press another kiss to your neck, then one to your shoulder. “Been thinkin’ about somethin’,” I admit, my voice low, a bit cheeky. I chuckle, ‘cause I already know how it sounds. “See that railing? Can’t get the thought out of my head. You bent over it, me behind you. Just us, out here with no one around. Doesn’t that sound…” I trail off, kiss the edge of your jaw, “…perfect?”

You shift a little under my hands and that’s all the answer I need. My lips brush your ear as I whisper, “C’mon then, love. Let me show you.”

I take your hand, gently but firm, lead you those few steps closer. The wood is warm under our feet, the horizon stretched out in endless blue. I stop just behind you, sliding my palm along your back, guiding you forward until you’re right there. My breath’s quicker now, heat already thrumming under my skin.

“Bend over for me, darling,” I murmur, my voice low and steady. My hands grip your hips, my chest pressing close to your back. “Yeah, just like that.”