“I’m fine.” She sipped her water and leaned against the doorframe. “I’ve got a bit of a headache, but otherwise I’m good as new.”

Her eyes skimmed over him, catching on the only item of clothing he wore—a pair of boxer briefs. Shadows obscured her face, but nothing could hide the sharp intake of her breath in the silent room.

“You should get back to bed,” he said, swallowing against the flood of desire that raged in him. He burned from the inside out, his skin begging to have her hands on him.

“You should come with me.”

“Libby,” he warned. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I wish you would.” She stepped closer and touched her palm to his bare chest. “I’m not drunk, and I’m perfectly capable of voicing what I want.”

He took the glass from her hand and guided her back to the bed. “What do you want, Tiger?”

She dropped down to the mattress, pulling him with her until he knelt over her, nudging her thighs apart with his knees. “To pretend we’re not pretending…just for tonight.”

Before he could protest she looped her arms around his neck and dragged his head down to hers. He feasted on her mouth, greedily seeking out her tongue, sucking on her lower lip and dragging it between his teeth. Nothing about this was pretend.

“Libby.” He pulled his head back, trying to think through the fog of arousal that engulfed him. “We can’t—”

“Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips.

He buried his face in her neck, feeling the flutter of her pulse against his lips. His hand caught the hem of her T-shirt and dragged it up, exposing her pale skin to the moonlight. Heat flared within him like a fire blazing out of control. She fanned him. Heightened his senses. Filled him with burning power.

Tossing the T-shirt over the side of the bed, he brought his head down to one breast. Above him, her soft moan made a tremor run down his spine. She fisted her hand in his hair and arched against him.

“Let’s go slow and enjoy it.” He moved to the other breast, lavishing attention on the nipple with his tongue.

“I lose control with you.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and scraped her nails along his skin.

“Me too.”

He kissed his way down the plane of her belly, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his lips. Something told him that tonight was his last chance to hold her in his arms before reality came crushing down on them both in the morning. So he would pretend, as she’d asked, and deal with the fallout tomorrow.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, skirting around her heat. Making her wait. Drawing out the moment that they would drown together.

When he moved his mouth to her sex, she cried out and the sound shattered something inside him. He couldn’t wait, didn’t want to. Every second with Libby was a precious gift that would soon expire. He focused on her center, feeling the quake in her thighs, pushing her higher and higher until she broke.

A shudder ran through her as she came, his name falling from her lips over and over. As she floated back down he pressed his cheek to her belly, and she ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re so very good at that,” she said, the fog of climax blending her words together.

Her skin was smooth against him, her warmth fueling his desire. He pushed up onto his hands and hovered over her. A smile pulled at her lips, her eyes heavy-lidded. Sooty lashes touched as she blinked and he drank it all in, committing every curve, every line, every plane to his memory.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” she asked with a husky laugh.

“For starters.” He ran a palm over her ribcage and caught the weight of her breast in one hand, smoothing his thumb over her nipple.

She hummed in pleasure. “And then?”

“Everything.” He came down onto her, resting on one arm so he could brush the hair from her face with his free hand. “I want every moan, every shudder, every orgasm I can possibly get from you.”

“Greedy.” She kissed his shoulder.

“I am when it comes to you.” The weight of his words should have driven him away but instead it seemed to suck the air from between them until there was nothing but skin on skin, their hearts aligned.

When he pushed inside her the whole world slipped away. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled back until he was sitting upright and she straddled him. Her hips moved up and down, the rhythm perfectly matched as he slanted his mouth over hers. She tasted sweet and warm and familiar. Like home. Like everything he’d once wanted.

“I don’t regret this,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. “I don’t regret being with you.”

“Me neither, Tiger.” He stroked her face with one hand and ran a thumb along her lower lip.

He reached down between them and found her sweet spot, feeling the tremors run through her as he stroked, intent on having her come around him. She tightened, her forehead dropping down to his shoulder, allowing him to fully support her.

“Paul, I…” she gasped. “I…”

“Let it happen.” He kissed her forehead, her cheekbone, her temple. “Let me feel you.”

Her teeth sank into his shoulder and she muffled the sharp cry of release as she tipped over. He buried himself deep inside her and lost himself to the sensation of her pleasure, giving up control to feel her as he came.

His arms were wrapped around her so tightly that no air could pass between them. They were fused together, her body wrapped around his, heels digging into his back. He cradled her as he lowered them back to the mattress, her hands never letting go.

The words from his speech came echoing back to him. He questioned everything with Libby curled in his arms, and his sanity was high on that list.

Libby woke the next morning to the gentle pressure of lips on her skin. Exhausted from a night of too much pleasure and too little sleep, she tried unsuccessfully to clear the fog away.

“Don’t get up,” Paul said as he stroked the hair out of her face. “I have to go, but you don’t need to get down there for another few hours. Order room service and stay in bed.”

She smiled, blinking to bring his face into focus. “I wish you could stay.”

“You won’t be thinking that when you starfish on that bed.” His lips brushed against hers.

He’d already changed into his tux, and he smelled of soap and cologne. Combined with his olive skin and dark hair, he looked as though he’d stepped from a magazine ad. But the hunger in her eyes reminded her that he wasn’t just a handsome face; he was a protective, caring, passionate man whom she’d fallen in love with.

Her heart thumped as the words swirled in her mind. Love? Did she really love Paul?

“You need some rest. I think I wore you out last night.” He chuckled and looked around for his phone, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“We wore each other out.” She pulled the covers up to her chin, as though a few layers of cotton could protect her from the weight of her realization.

“Very true. I’ve got to go, but I’m looking forward to seeing you in that black dress.” He leaned against the door as though he didn’t want to leave.

“Are you looking forward to getting me out of it?” The thought left her breathless and, despite the fact that they’d made love not a few hours before, her body already ached for him again.

She’d become addicted to him, his touch inciting a hunger and craving that was totally new to her. But it wasn’t only about sexual fulfilment…he made her whole. All the doubts and insecurities her family had fostered in her vanished when he was there. He filled the grooves in her soul, soothed her wounds, smoothed out the rough parts of her.

The end had come too soon, and she didn’t want it to be over. Ever.

“Do you need to ask me that?” He waggled his brows and opened the door, hovering for a moment before leaving her alone.