He was hungry... possessive.. and greedy.

"Open your mouth," he whispered, as his tongue explored and savored the recesses of my mouth, with sure and determined strokes.

The calm and composed Kristov in the garden was gone, and turned into a very passionate man, with excessive sexual desire.

His hand held my nape immobile, and his arm encircled my waist possessively.

I was trapped, cornered and captive. But who cares? It's where I wanna be - imprisoned in his arms... and give in freely to his kisses.

His firm and warm lips, kissing me deeply, hungrily... like my mouth was a delicious feast that needed to be savored. I felt like I was a food from heaven, special and precious, that could only fill his appetite.

His kisses were very addictive. His wonderful male scent lingered in my nostrils... and the subtle sweet taste of his mouth, something I could not get enough of.

He swept me off my feet and carried me to the big sofa in the living room. I felt so small and light like a feather, as he put me on his lap.

"Ahhh..." I felt the heady sensation of his lips against my neck. My eyes rolled at the intense pleasure, when he suckled the sensitive area behind my ear.

"You're so beautiful, Pia," he murmured, "you don't know how many times I dreamed of kissing you... touching you, like this..."

I felt so drugged, like I was so high. I did not protest when he touched my thigh, running to my hip, and up to the side of my breast. I just gave in to the pleasure.

My hands were restless on his neck, creeping inside his collar to feel more of his warm skin.

I moaned aloud, when his mouth captured mine again. His hand teasing my stomach and around my breasts, caressing gently, and creating an electrifying feeling.

Oh my goodness... I'm going to convulse from wanting him too much.

I was so hot and flaming in passion. I could feel the throbbing and moisture in my center, increasing.

Then he stopped, and buried his face between my breasts. He was breathing so hard, like he just ran a marathon race.

Confused, I asked him, "Is everything okay?"

He lifted his head and looked at me. His eyes were so dark, burning with passion. I could see the torment playing on his face, the torture he had to bear to control himself.

"We have to stop. I don't want you to end up hating me at the end of the day," he said.

My forehead furrowed, "I won't."

"Yeah, you probably won't. But I want to make it right with you, Pia," his hand touched the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek, "I like you so much, and I want something deep and genuine with you."

My heart melted at his words, but I was suddenly torn between conflicting emotions. I got out of his lap and sat next to him. I looked at him in dazed exasperation. It was so hard to remain focused when so close to him.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's take it slow," he took my hand, and held it closely to him, "let's date, exclusively, and get to know each other more."

"Exclusively?"

He nodded, "I don't share, Pia. I can assure you, I'll be honest and faithful to you. I expect that you'll do the same for me too."

"Of course. I wouldn't want to share either."

His smile broadened, and pulled me closer to him, "does that mean that you agree to date me?"

"Well... it depends."

He frowned, waiting for me to continue.

"You see, I have a strict boss, and he probably won't allow me to get out of the mansion and go on dates on weekdays," I curled my lips , "it would disrupt my work, as the overseer."

"What a terrible boss you have," his mouth twisted, "but I'm sure he can loosen his rules."

We laughed and started to have a meaningful conversation about our experiences in life. Our goals, dreams, success and failures.

He talked about his mother and brother, Anton from time to time. I just listened to him, trying to understand him better as a person.

Then our topic shifted to art, and I could feel his heart and passion on it as he mentioned the different types of paints. Oil, acrylic, watercolor, gouache and encaustic.

"Show me the difference," I insisted, and we ended up back in the sunroom, where we tested different kinds of paints. He painted a simple landscape, so quick that it took him only fifteen minutes.

I was very happy that slowly he embraced art painting again. I gave him a hug and a smack on his lips. A smack that ended up into torrid kissing again.

"I thought we're going to take it slow," I said to him.

"Then, we have to keep on reminding each other," his lips brushed against mine as he spoke.

We laughed and continued to hug each other.

"I'm leaving the mansion tonight," I reminded him that it was Friday, "so, I'll see you on Monday."

"No way. I'll be missing you terribly, I don't think I can survive 'til Monday," he hugged me tightly, his lips pressed against my cheek, "let me take you on a date tomorrow. How about sailing?"

"I can't. I'll be spending my day with my parents. Probably shopping, then we'll have lunch at Mom's favorite Korean restaurant."

His dark brows rose, "well, we can have dinner together."

"Dinner sounds good," I answered, and he gave me a satisfied grin.

We went back to the mansion at around one in the afternoon. We had lunch together in the dining room, and had his birthday cake as our dessert.

Tess served the food, and she kept on giving me a teasing look. It was awkward, and I felt really conscious eating with Kristov. I knew the staff were talking about us, wondering what was going on.

"Did you make a birthday wish when you blew your candle?" I asked Kristov when he sliced the cake.

His eyes captured mine, "I did."

"I wonder what that is?"

His mouth curved into a gorgeous smile, "I'll tell you someday."

We were talking, laughing and flirting. We shared our funny and happy moments, the people who matter in our lives, about work, and our favorite things. I was amazed that in just one day, I learned too much about him.

After our lunch, I went to the servant's quarter and met Jean, Tess and Sammy.

"What happened? You seem to be getting along too well," Jean asked curiously.

"Did you kiss?" Tess kept on asking, "I'm sure you did. I saw him holding your hand, and wiped the crumbs from your lips."

"Give us the details, girl. We're very curious to know," Sammy insisted.

I told them about some minor details, but that was it. I valued my privacy and Kristov's. Whatever we had, should remain just between us.

On Saturday early morning, I left the mansion and went home. Dad opened the front door.

"That bastard still won't let you go," Dad muttered angrily, "he can have as many girls as he wants, why does it have to be you!"

"Can you just stop, dad. I just arrived home."

"Answer me, Pia. Why didn't you ask him to let you go? I told you to convince him, and you're not doing something about it."

"Dad, a contract is a contract. Besides, it's only three weeks more, then I'm out," I reasoned out.

"That bastard likes you. Did you know that?" Dad got angrier as we continued to talk.

"Can we just stop talking about him? I'm tired."

"Bullshit! Do you like him too?" Dad questioned, "tell me the truth, Pia!"

"Give your daughter a break, Luis," Mom scolded dad, "she came home to relax, and now you're yelling at her."

"You're tolerating her!" Dad's anger was directed to Mom, until they started yelling at each other.

I went to my room, and sprung myself to my bed.

Tonight, Kristov will come and meet my parents. How am I going to deal with it?

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