"Good morning, Mrs. Lewis."
Esther's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his warm voice. Slightly blurry from sleep, she slowly pulled herself upright, resting against the headboard.
"Morning," she mumbled, her voice husky and soft. "What time is it?"
"Nine," Daniel replied, sitting beside her on the bed. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, brushing a few curls away from her face. "How was your night?"
Esther let out a low groan, instinctively reaching behind to press her lower back. A sharp ache reminded her of the previous night's passion, every position, every moment, every inch of her claimed. Her scowl deepened as she glared at him through narrowed eyes, her lips parting in disbelief.
"You okay?" he asked, trying and failing not to grin at her expression.
She glared harder, biting back the urge to call him a monster.
He had her up the entire night.
"I brought you breakfast," he added quickly, wheeling over the tray table with a flourish. "Peace offering."
"Thank you," she muttered, though her stomach rumbled in anticipation. Her heart warmed at the gesture, even as her body protested. The tenderness between her legs and the soreness in her muscles were undeniable.
"Ouch.." she winced softly, clutching her lower stomach .
Daniel was instantly alert. "What? Where does it hurt? Let me see.."
She chuckled, catching his face in her hand and brushing her thumb gently over his cheek. "I'm fine. It's just… lingering aches. Nothing serious. I promise."
"I can call a doctor. Or we could go to a hospital.."
"Mr. Lewis," she cut in with a soft laugh, her lips brushing his in a quick kiss. "I'm okay. Really."
He studied her face for a long moment, still unconvinced. "If it gets worse, we're leaving. No arguments."
"Deal."
He leaned back slightly. "Then maybe we should stay in today. You clearly need to rest.."
"What?!" Esther blurted, her tone rising before she could catch it. "We can't cancel today's plans!"
Daniel blinked at her, amused by her sudden burst of energy.
"I swear I'm okay," she insisted, softening her voice and blinking up at him with exaggerated lashes. "Please. I've been dreaming of this day. I won't let a little soreness stop me."
He gave her a long look, lips twitching. "You're dangerously persuasive, Mrs. Lewis."
She grinned. "So… is that a yes?"
He sighed, kissing her nose. "It's a yes. But no more climbing cliffs or running through markets. We just have to make do with the beach today"
"Deal," she said, already reaching for the coffee on the tray. "But I make no promises if there's night dancing."
He laughed, shaking his head. "You'll be the death of me."
"And the joy of you," she winked.
The day unfolded like a painting.
By late morning, the couple had left the hotel, walking hand in hand through the narrow cobbled streets of the village. Following the lead of their tour guard Niko, who was taking them to the town's famous beach.
The beach was tucked away in a quiet cove, known only to locals and a handful of lucky travelers. Golden sand melted into aquamarine waters, and the sun above shimmered like molten glass. Soft waves curled along the shore in gentle rhythm, and the distant cries of seagulls added music to the breeze.
Esther stepped out of the changing cabana in a bold, figure-hugging bikini, deep emerald green that contrasted strikingly with her smooth skin. She tossed her curls back, adjusting her sunglasses as she scanned the beach.
Daniel, standing a few feet away with a towel over his shoulder, paused mid-step when he saw her.
His brows lifted slightly. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
She smirked. "You don't like it?"
"Oh, I love it," he said, walking up to her, "but so will every man on this beach."
"Is that a warning?" she teased.
"Just an observation," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "And a reminder, I fight dirty."
They walked down to the water together, holding hands, the sun glinting off their skin. For a while, it was all laughter and play.
Esther raced barefoot along the edge of the sea, the gentle waves licking at her toes as her laughter filled the warm afternoon air. She turned back, flashing a grin at Daniel, who stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching her like a guardian more than a companion.
"You know, it'd be great to have some company," she called out, gesturing for him to join her.
He shook his head, reluctant. "I'm good right here."
"Mr. Lewis," she said more firmly, hands on her hips. Her tone left little room for negotiation.
He sighed, dramatically, but stepped into the water anyway, the chill nipping at his ankles.
"Now, isn't this fun?" she teased, sending a playful splash of seawater his way.
He laughed, though he tried to hold back. "Esther…"
"Oh come on," she said with a mock pout, "playing along won't diminish your status. I promise."
He rolled his eyes, but gave in, half-heartedly flicking a bit of water at her. "Happy now?"
She laughed. "You're doing it so stiffly," she said, stepping closer. Her arms slid around his neck, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Should I teach you how to play?"
He cleared his throat and groaned under his breath, retreating a step. "We should probably get out before you catch a cold."
Back on the shore, Esther wrapped herself in a towel while Daniel gently dried her hair and back. She leaned into his touch, the moment surprisingly tender.
Then she sneezed.
"There, you've caught a cold," he said, a hint of reprimand in his soft tone.
"No," she insisted, scrunching her nose, "it was just one sneeze."
Daniel only smiled and handed her the win, brushing a kiss on her temple before heading off toward the beach bar hut.
Esther stayed behind, stretching out on a towel near the shoreline. Her skin glistened with salt and sun, legs crossed and relaxed. The water shimmered a few feet away, and the breeze carried faint sounds of laughter and music from the huts.
Daniel had gone off momentarily to grab fresh drinks. When he returned, he found her mid-conversation with a tanned, well-built Greek man who clearly wasn't just asking for the time.
The stranger was crouched beside her, speaking in soft Greek, eyes locked on hers with a charming smile.
Daniel's jaw clenched.
He handed Esther her drink and turned to the man with a polite but firm smile.
«Sygnómi, filé. Afti íne i sýzygós mou.» (Sorry, friend. That's my wife.)
The Greek man blinked, glanced between them, and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Ah, syngnómi!" he said with a sheepish grin before walking away with an amused shrug.
Esther blinked at Daniel, sipping her drink. "What did he say?"
Daniel sat beside her coolly, "He asked if we'd like a photo. Said the beach was beautiful, and you looked like you belonged on the cover of a travel magazine."
She stared at him suspiciously. "And what did you say?"
"I told him you were flattered. But we'd rather enjoy the view… privately."
Esther narrowed her eyes, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "That's not what you said."
Daniel grinned, not looking at her. "You don't speak Greek. You'll never know."
She leaned in, lowering her voice. "You were jealous."
He scoffed softly. "Please. I'm just protecting what's mine, from vultures."
"Oh, I see," she laughed. "So now I'm your beach prize?"
"No," he said, finally meeting her eyes, "you're my wife. That comes with certain… responsibilities. Like defending you from overconfident European charmers."
Esther chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. "Relax, Mr. Lewis. You're the only charmer I want."
"Damn right," he muttered, kissing her temple before pulling her into his arms as they laid in the beach bed.
The beach quieted as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of orange, lavender, and deep indigo. A soft wind rustled the palms as locals began to light a bonfire near the edge of the cove, its flames crackling to life and casting flickers of gold on the sand.
Esther and Daniel sat close, sharing a woven blanket, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her waist. A few other travelers had gathered too, couples, solo wanderers, and an elderly pair who sat on low stools, sipping tea.
A local guide, an older man with a lined face, thick silver curls, and eyes that sparkled with mischief, stood before the fire. His name was Niko, and the moment he began to speak, the beach hushed.
"In this village," he began in English with a charming accent, "we say the sea remembers. Everything. Every love that bloomed on its shores, every tear that fell into its waves."
He shifted, poking at the fire with a long stick.
"There was once a fisherman who loved a woman from the mountains," he continued, "but she hated the sea. Said it made her feel small. So he built her a home in the forest… but every night, he still dreamt of the tide."
Esther smiled faintly, curling her fingers around Daniel's.
Niko went on, telling tales of lovers turned to stars, of sirens who waited lifetimes for a sailor's return, of a flower that only bloomed for the faithful heart. The stories weren't overly grand, they were quiet, wistful, full of longing and hope.
The flames crackled, dancing shadows across everyone's faces.
At one point, Niko looked straight at Esther and Daniel, as if sensing something unspoken between them.
"And sometimes," he said, lowering his voice, "the sea returns what it takes. But only to those patient enough to wait… and brave enough to begin again."
A gentle hush followed his words, like the waves themselves were listening.
Esther shifted slightly, looking up at Daniel. He met her gaze and brushed a thumb across her cheek, saying nothing, but everything in his eyes told her he felt the weight of those words too.
They stayed long after the stories ended, letting the warmth of the fire and the sea breeze soak in. Around them, laughter and quiet conversation resumed, but Esther and Daniel stayed wrapped in silence, their hearts full and their fingers entwined.
It was a night neither of them would forget, not for its grandeur, but for its stillness. A reminder that sometimes, love didn't need fireworks. Just a fire, a story, and the ocean watching quietly nearby.
Moments later, they returned to the comfort of their hotel room. As soon as they stepped inside, Esther made her way to the bathroom, eager to wash off the lingering salt and sand from the beach.
Steam curled gently against the marble walls as warm water cascaded from the rainfall shower overhead, enveloping the space in a soothing mist.
Esther stood by the mirror, a plush towel wrapped around her chest, her skin still damp and glowing from their evening by the bonfire.
She was brushing her teeth lazily when she caught sight of Daniel in the reflection, leaning on the doorway, his eyes trailing over her with quiet heat.
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, not missing the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Long enough to know you look unfairly good in steam," he said, stepping inside.
She rolled her eyes, rinsed her mouth, and turned to face him. "Are you here for a shower or to admire your wife like a creeper?"
"Both," he admitted without shame, hands finding her waist as he closed the distance between them. "Mostly the second."
She giggled, resting her palms on his chest, feeling the warmth of his bare skin. "You're ridiculous."
"You like it."
She did. Especially when he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, his lips tracing the beads of water still clinging there. Her breath caught. The tension between them rose again, familiar now, but still electric.
"Mr Lewis …" she whispered, eyes fluttering as his hands slid slowly down her back, loosening the knot of her towel. It slipped, pooling at her feet.
He said nothing, just lifted her gently onto the edge of the sink counter, pressing himself between her knees, their skin warm and slick from the steam. His mouth found hers, slow and searching at first, deepening with every beat of her racing heart.
The room was filled with the rhythm of soft moans and water droplets against tile. His hands roamed, firm, reverent, as if learning her all over again.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. "You're not really here for a shower, are you?" she breathed.
"Oh, I intend to get wet," he murmured against her throat, "but not because of the water."
She laughed, breathless, and pulled him fully into the kiss again, letting herself melt into the moment, the heat, the weight of his body and the tenderness in his touch.
The bathroom echoed with their whispered names, gasps, and the quiet rush of water still falling nearby.
And somewhere in the haze, Esther realized, she had never felt more desired, or more completely his.
The bathroom had long gone quiet, save for the distant drip of water from the forgotten showerhead. Wrapped in one of Daniel's plush robes, Esther leaned against his chest as they sat curled up on the balcony of their hotel room, a light breeze brushing past them. Below, the soft sounds of the island night carried, the occasional echo of laughter, the whisper of the sea, the rustling of olive trees.
Daniel held her close, one hand tracing lazy circles along her arm. Her damp curls tickled his chin, and the warmth of her body against his was more soothing than anything the Mediterranean breeze could offer.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice a low hum beside her ear.
She nodded against his chest. "I should be asking you that. You practically earned a trophy in there."
He chuckled, kissed the top of her head. "I'd like a medal, actually. Something engraved."
She gave a sleepy laugh. "It'll say 'To Mr. Lewis, Champion of..' okay, never mind," she blushed, burying her face in his robe.
He grinned, enjoying her fluster. "Champion of making you forget your name?"
"Something like that."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the stars. From below came the soft sound of traditional Greek music drifting up from a nearby taverna. It was distant, romantic, timeless.
Esther glanced up at him, tracing her fingers over his chest. "This whole place… the breeze, the sea, you. It all feels surreal."
He looked down at her, brushing a curl behind her ear. "It's not a dream, Esther. It's ours."
Her lips curved. "We're really married."
"We are."
"And you're still looking at me like you did on our first dinner together."
"That's because every time I look at you, I see something new to fall in love with."
She smiled, eyes glimmering in the dim balcony light. "You're dangerous when you're romantic."
"And you're dangerous when you wear that towel," he whispered, kissing her knuckles.
She laughed again, softer this time. "Do you have an off button?"
"I don't think so," he murmured, sweeping her effortlessly off the balcony floor.
With a teasing smile, he carried her back inside and gently laid her on the bed, his gaze never leaving hers.
"Mr. Lewis…" she called cautiously, her eyes searching his.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her cheek. "I'll be gentle this time. I promise."
Something about the way he said it, soft, slow, sure, made her heartbeat skip. It wasn't just a promise. It was a warning wrapped in velvet.
And just like that, her body answered him, arching into his touch, guided by his will. The night unfurled again, tender, consuming, and utterly hers to remember.