Chapter 241: Chapter 241: The Mood is Right, No Words are Needed
Steam filled the bathroom, quickly fogging the frosted glass with a hazy mist.
Adrian Lancaster gently set Wren Sutton down on the non-slip, pebble-textured floor tiles.
The pitter-patter of the shower was like the tide outside, creating a private, secluded world just for them.
He reached out to test the water temperature. A warm stream then cascaded evenly from the showerhead above, soaking Wren Sutton’s sheer dress.
The light fabric clung to her body, outlining her soft, feminine curves.
Adrian Lancaster’s gaze darkened, his intentions clear.
A blush rose on Wren Sutton’s face—whether from the steam or shyness, she couldn’t tell. She turned away, her back to Adrian Lancaster.
This gave Adrian Lancaster the perfect opportunity.
Standing behind her, he skillfully and precisely found the zipper on the side of her dress.
"Darling, let me help you with your dress."
A moment later, the dress slid down her skin.
The warm water streamed over both of them.
Adrian Lancaster’s shirt was soaked as well, revealing the powerful, taut lines of his muscles beneath.
"Your clothes..." Wren Sutton began shyly, her words muffled. "They’re wet, too."
Adrian Lancaster chuckled softly and guided her hand to the buttons of his shirt.
"Then you can help me take it off."
Knowing she couldn’t refuse, Wren Sutton blushed as she did as he asked.
They stood bare before each other.
The mood was set. No more words were necessary.
Adrian Lancaster pressed Wren Sutton against the wall. With one hand supporting her back, he lowered his head and kissed her, his touch both demanding and gentle.
The sound of the cascading water masked their quickening breaths and racing hearts.
Wren Sutton’s legs grew weak. She wrapped her arms tightly around Adrian Lancaster’s neck, accepting his passion as her voice came out in fits and starts. "Are we... still going... to the beach?"
Adrian Lancaster’s kisses paused at her ear. The low pants from his throat were enough to make one’s heart race and face flush, utterly intoxicating.
"No rush," he murmured. "The Calypsos Sea will wait for us."
As he spoke, his hand slid to Wren Sutton’s waist, pulling her even tighter into his embrace.
Outside the window, the azure sea glittered under the sun, and waves gently lapped against the white sand.
And in the steam-filled bathroom, an intimacy more lingering than the waves had only just begun.
...
After they left the bathroom, Wren Sutton lay on the bed, not wanting to move.
’They’d only made love once, it wasn’t exactly overindulgence. So why do I feel so exhausted?’
But a glance at Adrian Lancaster showed he was completely refreshed, satisfaction written all over his face. He didn’t look the least bit tired.
Seeing Wren’s exhaustion, Adrian Lancaster’s heart ached. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Darling, do you still have the energy to go to the beach?"
Wren Sutton shot him a playful glare. "No. And it’s all your fault."
Adrian pressed his forehead to hers, his tone indulgent. "I’ll carry you."
His coaxing left Wren with no room to be upset. She gave him a light tap on the chest. "I’m resting for half an hour. Don’t you dare disturb me."
"I wouldn’t dare."
Thirty minutes later, Wren Sutton got up right on schedule.
Adrian Lancaster had already laid out a complete outfit for her by the pillow, from her lingerie to her dress.
Wren Sutton quickly dressed. It was a creamy-white linen maxi dress, with an exquisite blue wave pattern embroidered along the hem. It was gorgeous.
She checked her reflection in the mirror, pleased with what she saw.
Then she casually tied her hair up in a bun. With no makeup on, her look was fresh-faced and innocent.
Adrian Lancaster wore a light blue linen shirt with white trousers. He’d forgone a tie, leaving the collar casually open, and had swapped his gold-rimmed glasses for sunglasses.
The casual attire stripped away some of his usual CEO-like authority, lending him a more relaxed and laid-back air.
He walked over and took her hand. "Come on, let’s go for a walk on the beach."
The setting sun dyed the horizon a swatch of brocade, transitioning from deep orange to a smoky pink.
Hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, they walked along the fine, soft, cool sand.
Each time a wave surged forward, it washed over their insteps before receding, pulling fine grains of sand from between their toes and leaving behind a refreshing coolness and a faint, tingling itch.
The beach was scattered with countless shells, polished smooth by the tide, glistening delicately in the slanted rays of the setting sun.
Wren Sutton let go of Adrian Lancaster’s hand and hurried a few steps ahead to collect shells.
"Look at this one." She picked up a spiral conch. Its body was a pale, creamy white, streaked with light brown markings, like a miniature ancient bugle.
Adrian Lancaster took it, the pad of his thumb stroking its smooth surface.
"It’s perfectly intact."
He smiled faintly and brought the conch to his lips.
Adrian Lancaster took a gentle, trial breath. Then, the low, distant call of a conch horn flowed from his lips.
The sound was deep and rich, as if carrying the breath of the sea itself. It pierced the salty evening air and drifted far into the distance.
A few nearby seagulls, which had been foraging for food, were startled into flight. They flapped their wings, carving graceful arcs against the lavender sky.
"You know how to blow a conch shell!" Wren Sutton grabbed Adrian Lancaster’s arm, her eyes curving into happy crescents. "I’ve never heard you do that before."
Adrian Lancaster gazed into the distance, a flicker of distant, fond nostalgia in his eyes.
"I lived by the sea for a while when I was a boy. My grandfather taught me," he said. "I haven’t done it in a long time, so I’m a bit rusty."
"I think it sounded amazing. I’m going to treasure this shell forever."
Adrian Lancaster snapped out of his reverie and handed the conch back to her.
Wren Sutton carefully placed it in her pocket as if it were a treasure.
They continued their walk along the shore.
Soon after, Wren Sutton found a particularly beautiful shell.
It was heart-shaped, pink, and about the size of her thumbnail. Its edges were smooth and rounded, and it looked like a tiny, sleeping piece of candy nestled in the sand.
She bent down, gently plucked the shell from the sand, and held it out in her palm for Adrian Lancaster to see.
"Honey, this shell is so delicate."
A mysterious smile touched the corners of Adrian Lancaster’s lips.
He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he took out his phone, turned on the flashlight, and aimed a soft beam of white light at the tiny shell.
A miracle occurred.
Under the light, the pink shell, thin as a cicada’s wing, became translucent. A faint, rainbow-like iridescence swirled within, as if it had captured a sliver of the sunset.
"It’s called a Moonbeam Shell. They’re very rare,"
he explained softly, placing the glowing shell back in Wren Sutton’s open palm.
"There’s an old local legend," he began. "It says these shells are the children of the moonlight and the tides, left behind in the mortal world by the Sea God."
"If someone finds one while they’re with the person they love, any wish they make will be heard by the sea—and it will come true."
Wren Sutton held her breath, listening intently as she stared, mesmerized, at the tiny shell in her palm.
"That legend is so beautiful and romantic."
"Even if it’s just a legend, the sentiment is lovely. We were lucky to find a Moonbeam Shell."
Wren nodded. "Honey, you’re right. So, I’m going to make a wish."
With that, she closed her eyes, her thick lashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks.
The sea breeze whispered past the tips of her hair and the hem of her dress as the waves murmured against the shore.
Wren spoke with reverence, her voice soft and filled with awe for the sea.
"May the Sea God grant me a life of peace, and may I always be by my lover’s side."
