“It’s someone’s birthday,” he said.
I clapped my hands, grinning.
He set the cake on the side table and leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. “Happy birthday, Clara,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Abel,” I murmured back.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, until I had to pull away laughing. “Not now. At least let me taste my cake first.” I tried to slip out of his hold.
He didn’t let me go.
“Oh, now you want me to let you escape?” he said, tightening his arms around me.
I laughed, pushing at his chest playfully, but he only captured my lips again—slow, heated, full of promise.
“Tonight, Clara,” he murmured against my mouth, “you have no idea what I’ve planned for you.”
And I realized then—I didn’t want to wait at all.
It was the best birthday I had ever had. I spent the morn
