Just as the screen was about to lock, the bathroom door clicked softly.
Diana stood at the junction of light and shadow wrapped in a wide white bath towel, her wet hair dripping water droplets, sliding down her collarbone into the deep shadow.
The undried water marks glazed her calves, and when she stepped barefoot on the wool carpet, it was like crushing a pool of moonlight.
"Honey... Ready for the fashion show?"
She shook the paper bag with the gilded logo in her hand.
"Combat supplies are in place—commander, please come inspect!"
Her voice was soaked in water vapor and husky as velvet.
Ethan brought a cool breeze as he approached, and she smiled and took half a step back, but the bath towel around her waist was hooked by his long fingers. The moment the fabric wrapped around his wrist, the bath towel slipped down like an avalanche.
The LED display of the downtown building was switching to a galaxy picture, the broken light sweeping over her newly worn Vacheron Constantin, and the diamonds drawing the afterimage of star trails in the dimness...
Ethan pulled her wet waist close, his fingertips sinking into the silk fabric:
"Can't wait, naughty auntie?"
Round 1: Midnight Blue Deep Dive
The moment the belt of the robe was pulled away, Diana dodged with a smile, but was pressed deep into the sofa.
Diana fell against the back of the velvet sofa, and Ethan's kiss ran over her carotid artery with the coolness of mint.
She bit his earlobe and laughed, scolding:
"Little devil... The clasp is hurting me!"
The soft sound of the metal fastening coming undone was drowned in the scorching heat that swam through his palms.
When the midnight blue silk slip dress flooded her waist like water, the tips of his teeth clutched the deep V strap on her back, and the sound of silk tearing was like a nightingale's flapping wings.
Diana rose and fell in the storm full of strength and skill he brought, her slender fingers leaving beautiful red marks on his broad and firm back, her mouth overflowing with broken whispers, sometimes calling "honey" emotionally, sometimes scolding "little devil" coquettishly.
Ethan responded with deeper exploration and more fiery possession, sweat blending and breath burning, as if the sharp edge of controlling 30% of Musical.ly at the daytime negotiating table and the ambition to conquer the business world were all poured out and melted into this deep intimacy and conquest.
.....
Round 2: Lace's Offense and Defense
The scattered silk wrapped around the foot of the crystal decanter, refracting colorful spots of light.
Diana knelt before the floor-to-ceiling window, and the ribbon of her burgundy lace lingerie was wrapped around Ethan's fingers like a rein.
The neon lights of downtown traced the undulating curves of her back, and when sweat beads rolled down her waist, he leaned over to taste the saltiness, his tongue tip skimming the black ribbon wrapped around the lace edge.
She grabbed his hair with her free hand, and the watch slammed against the glass with a clatter:
"Gentle... This piece was expensive..."
The final words were smashed into the reflection of the galaxy on the window.
.....
Round 3: Disarming of Tulle
The almost transparent tulle slip covered moonlit skin, and when the pearl buttons bounced off under Ethan's teeth, the San Francisco skyline was already reflected in morning light with golden edges.
Diana curled up in the duvet, so exhausted that even her eyelashes were damp with sweat, the tulle wrapped around her ankles like a captured flag.
Ethan held up the sweaty back of her neck to feed her water, and as she closed her eyes and sipped, the diamond dial on her wrist reflected the red marks on the back of his shoulders—those were her last trophies.
"...little devil..."
She couldn't lift her fingertips, her voice hoarse, "Carry me tomorrow... Sightseeing..."
The tide of passion was turbulent, wave after wave, and finally after the ultimate joy and release, the two fell asleep in each other's arms in exhaustion and satisfaction, sinking into the deepest dreams, temporarily forgetting the world, leaving only each other's warmth.
His heartbeat gradually subsided like a war drum under the bedding, and she had sunk into the black sweet land.
.....
The next day.
A ray of morning light shone diagonally on the bed through the gauze curtain. Diana turned over lazily, and the soreness from her waist made her hiss softly.
The lingering images of last night flashed back in her mind, and she bit her lip and buried her face in the pillow.
Ethan was already dressed neatly, adjusting his collar in front of the mirror, and the morning light outlined his neat jawline. Catching a glimpse of her small movements in the mirror, the corners of his lips unconsciously raised a satisfied curve.
He paced to the edge of the bed, his warm palm gently covering her waist, with a smile in his voice that couldn't be hidden:
"Really can't walk? I'll carry you downstairs."
Diana slapped his hand away, but snorted softly because the action involved her sore muscles. She forced herself to get up, but the tips of her red ears betrayed her embarrassment:
"Less gloating... Just help me up."
Ethan smiled and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her hair:
"Yes ma'am, my naughty auntie!"
...
The hotel's restaurant lobby was filled with the aroma of coffee.
Diana took out her phone from her Chanel handbag, the screen lighting up with showing successful museum reservations:
"Good thing I booked tickets a few days in advance—summer museums in DC are harder to get into than Broadway shows."
Her tone was a bit smug, her fingertips running through the dense time slots on the screen.
The waiter came over with a plate and placed a bowl of grits and a few slices of toast on the table.
The grits had a pale beige color with a slightly grainy texture.
Diana wrinkled her nose and leaned back, the iced coffee in her hand gripped tightly.
"This looks... weird!"
She frowned with a face full of suspicion.
"People online say this Southern thing is an acquired taste, so I don't believe it."
Ethan picked up the bowl with interest—he had indeed never tried this Southern "delicacy" in his previous life.
He took a deep breath—then scooped up a spoonful.
He put it in his mouth—the bland, pasty texture immediately filled his senses.
Under Diana's gleeful gaze, he forced himself to swallow.
In an instant, an indescribable bland mushiness exploded in his mouth, and Ethan's entire face wrinkled up, and he spit it all out with a "pfft," even ruining the toast on the plate.
"Ugh—this is not food!"
He grabbed the ice water and chugged it, gritting his teeth and swearing:
"In this life... No, in the next life, if I touch this stuff again, I'll... I'll eat grits for a month straight!"
If Jack were there, he would definitely say: Ethan, you're hardcore!
Subsequently.
The two got into the hotel courtesy car, and the morning breeze passed through the window, blowing away the last bit of fatigue.
The courtesy car drove smoothly along Independence Avenue, and the white marble buildings of the National Mall gradually came into view. The morning light penetrated the classical architecture, awakening monuments that embodied American history.
When the car arrived at the entrance, the crowd was already flooding in like opening floodgates.
When Diana lightly held Ethan's arm and got out of the car, her dress hem faintly exposed her slender ankles, and the pair of Jimmy Choo nude high heels she was wearing made a crisp sound on the pavement.
She had specially changed into a cream-colored silk dress today, well-tailored, outlining her graceful figure, her long hair loosely pinned up, revealing her beautiful neck.
"There are more people than I imagined."
She frowned slightly, but didn't panic.
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