The Shy Magnate Who Left Her Speechless

Naima was a renowned photographer, a self-made woman who never went unnoticed. The daughter of a Vietnamese mother and a Brazilian father, she had inherited the best of both: her mother’s almond-shaped, deep eyes, her father’s honey-colored skin and black curly hair, and green eyes that seemed not to fit anywhere and yet ruled everything. On top of that, there was her six-foot-three frame, which made her stand out even among the models she photographed.

She was a woman of contrasts. An object of desire for any man who crossed her path on the street, but even more fascinating when someone sat down to talk to her. She had lived a lot. She had lived in Hanoi until she was five and, because of her mother’s work, had spent stretches of time in half a dozen countries before turning twenty: Canada, Lisbon, Berlin, Istanbul. When she finally settled down, she studied commercial photography and began working on all kinds of campaigns. Her name traveled by word of mouth because of the quality of her work and a professionalism few could match.

But there was a crack in that bright life. She had been in a relationship trapped by routine for more than six years. Her partner was a good man, attractive even, but he had grown so complacent that nothing remained of what had once brought them together.

They lived like two roommates splitting the rent. They didn’t seek each other out at night, there was no spark, no games, none of that tension that once drove them mad. Naima had stopped seeing him as a partner. She loved him, yes, but in the way one loves an old friend.

Everything began to change a few months earlier, when Ethan Wright appeared.

Ethan was an eccentric New Zealand businessman, owner of a powerful real estate company, who hired her for an ambitious project: a luxury catalog featuring the most exclusive mansions in his portfolio. He had heard about her, about how good she was, and became obsessed with the idea that it should be Naima, specifically, who would front the campaign that would put his business on the map.

It wasn’t easy for him to hire someone so in demand and with such a packed schedule. But Ethan was persistent, and the offer he finally put on the table was so outrageous there was no human way to refuse it.

Naima accepted and moved to Auckland. That trip was, in essence, the perfect excuse to finally end a relationship that had been dead for a long time. She packed without guilt and without looking back too much.

The first time Ethan saw her in person, he was smitten. It was inevitable. But it wasn’t just her looks: she was cultured, accomplished, with a conversation that drew you in and ideas for the campaign so different and daring they left him speechless.

Naima, however, found Ethan unbearable. Another rich man looking at her without the slightest shame, convinced that his checkbook gave him the right to anything.

His strange behavior multiplied the awkward silences, especially when she laid out her proposals. Again and again, Ethan seemed to pay more attention to her body than to her ideas, and that drove her crazy.

The campaign planning dragged on for several weeks. Endless meetings, discarded sketches, arguments about light, framing, and locations. When the work finally ended and Naima was gathering her things to leave the office, Ethan walked her to the elevator. And there, suddenly, something happened she hadn’t expected.

The man who, in meetings, acted like the typical overconfident millionaire, aggressive and overwhelming in business, summoned up the courage with all the awkwardness of a teenager and asked her out.

Naima was completely thrown by that sudden shyness. That insecure man, who could barely hold her gaze, had nothing to do with the shark in the boardroom.

Maybe Ethan isn’t the asshole he seems to be, she thought.

And that doubt, that little spark of curiosity, was enough for her to say yes.

***

They went out for lunch and dinner several days in a row. On each date, Ethan behaved like a gentleman: polite, generous, attentive to every detail. Day after day, Naima found herself more seduced by his personality than by his money, even though he insisted on taking her to increasingly expensive and dazzling places, as if he could somehow cover up an insecurity he couldn’t hide. Then, true to form, he would leave her at the hotel entrance and go back home alone.

Until one night, after dropping her off as usual and just as he was turning to leave, she broke the script.

—Why don’t you come up to my room and we can have something a little more relaxed? —Naima said.

—I don’t know… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable —he replied, almost stammering.

—I insist.

And as she said that last word, she walked into the hotel lobby without waiting for an answer. Ethan followed her. They went up together in the elevator, and he was visibly nervous, looking at the floor, the walls, anything but her. Naima watched him from the corner of her eye and smiled to herself.

She opened the room door and went in.

—Please, close the door —she asked.

Ethan closed it behind him and stood there dazed, not knowing what to do with his hands. Naima walked through the room with deliberate calm. She slipped off her shoes almost without looking. Then she loosened the straps of her dress off her shoulders and the fabric slid down her body, caressing her until it fell at her feet. She kept walking barefoot toward the bed, lay down, and challenged him in a teasing tone.

—You can pour yourself a drink or come to bed.

Ethan approached timidly to the edge of the mattress.

—If you come to bed, you’ve got too many clothes on —she added.

He obeyed in silence. He took off his shoes, then his jacket and tie. Naima watched him with interest, not missing a single movement. He unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a strong, defined chest, as if carved from marble. He continued with his trousers, revealing firm, muscled legs, and finally climbed onto the bed beside her.

Now it was Naima who looked him over. She immediately noticed the generous bulge straining the dark fabric of his underwear. She scrutinized every inch of that body and, the more she looked, the more she liked.

—Do you mind if I get comfortable? —she asked softly.

—Make yourself comfortable wherever you want, it’s your room —he answered, his throat dry.

With a mischievous smile, Naima unhooked her bra and let it fall to the side. Her breasts came into view, large and round, crowned by coffee-colored areolas and small nipples beginning to harden.

—Now I’m more comfortable —she murmured.

Ethan swallowed. He felt a growing heat rising from his chest and burning his face.

Naima noticed how the bulge beneath the fabric was beginning to shift to one side, stretching it even more. And I already thought it was big before…, she thought. She saw that Ethan still didn’t dare make the first move, trapped by that shyness of his, so she decided to take control.

She gently pushed him until he lay on his back and climbed on top of him. She brought her lips close to his without quite touching them, just enough for him to feel her warm breath brushing his mouth. Ethan couldn’t hold back any longer and covered that last distance to kiss her. Their lips met, their tongues searched for each other in a slow, wet dance, and for the first time all night he stopped trembling.

As they kissed, Naima felt her own breasts pressed against that hard torso. She moved her hips slowly, rubbing her sex against the unmistakable hardness of him. Ethan caressed her back, sliding his hands down until they found the thin thread of her underwear, discovering how soft every inch of her skin was, how firm her thighs were.

Naima pulled her face back and looked him in the eyes with a desire she no longer bothered to hide. For him, those slanted green eyes drove him completely insane.

—I think it’s time to stop being shy —she whispered.

She turned on him until she was facing the other way, sitting carefully so each one had the other right in front of their mouth. Naima removed the last piece of clothing from Ethan with far more determination than he would ever have had, and exposed him completely. She explored him first with her tongue, slowly, like someone savoring something forbidden, and then gave herself over completely, with a mix of hunger and patience that left him breathless.

Ethan, far from staying still, moved aside the fabric that still covered Naima and began to return each caress with his tongue. She felt pleasure spread in waves, moved her hips almost without realizing it, and her breathing grew deeper and more broken, while she continued tending to him.

She couldn’t hold out much longer. She was too aroused, too hot. She sat up, turned, and straddled him, taking him in all at once with a moan that escaped her without permission. She began to move at her own pace, setting the rules herself, while Ethan, completely overwhelmed, could only hold her hips and look at her as if he still couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

When she felt he was about to lose control, Naima stopped and let herself fall beside him, panting.

—Now fuck me —she told him.

Ethan knelt between her legs, which she was already offering open and eager. He entered her slowly, carefully, and began to move in rhythm, gaining confidence with every thrust. Little by little he sped up, and he could see Naima’s breasts bouncing with each movement.

—Yes, like that, hard… make me come for you —she panted.

Those words lit Ethan up more than anything else that night. He made her turn over and get on all fours, grabbed her by the shoulders, and drove into her with a force that drove Naima wild. Neither of them could hold on much longer. They came almost at the same time, spent, and fell to one side of the bed in each other’s arms, still catching their breath.

***

That night, without grand promises or declarations, the two of them decided to give it a chance. A relationship with one tacit condition, the one she had been missing for six years: stay together only as long as they kept the flame alive.

And, for once, Naima was sure they were going to make it happen.