It took only fifteen minutes to get from the lagoon to the condo, but those fifteen minutes were like an excruciating, delicious eternity. My heart stuttered the entire drive, sitting next to Colin in the back of the hired car. He took my hand and squeezed.

Some men would have tried to make out in the car, oblivious to the driver. Yes, some men would have tried more. Not Colin. I thought he would try to edge closer to me, but he stayed several frustrating inches away—yet close enough that I could smell his soap.

He was in command of the situation, chatting with the driver about the volcano and the weather as if we did this all the time together, all the while stroking my palm slowly with his thumb. Each stroke pulled something low inside my belly, anticipation and arousal building by the moment.

It was at once chaste and lascivious and made me impossibly wet.

By the time we reached the condo elevator, I was edgy and needy and wanted him in ways I hadn't wanted a man in years. Didn't know I could want a man in that way anymore. He pressed the button for our floor, then leaned back and regarded me with a sexy smirk.

"Isn't a passionate elevator kiss such a cliché?" he said. What a tease.

I played along, leaning against the opposite wall, although I was shaky inside and drenched in other places. And wouldn't have minded a kiss one bit. "A tiresome cliché. I agree."

We grinned at each other, and he licked his bottom lip. Oh, he was wicked.

Neither of us touched in the hallway or when he paused to open the door.

But as soon as we were inside and the snick of the lock echoed through the sparse space, everything exploded.

I wasn't sure who reached for whom. Was it me who flung myself toward his body? Or was it him who growled and pinned me against the hallway wall?

"Goddammit, Samantha." He was back to kissing me hot and hard, and I matched him with my own need to consume. He grasped a fistful of my hair with certainty, more certainty than any man in memory.

Like I was his. For the night, for the weekend, forever. It didn't matter. It only mattered that I was in his arms and eager to do whatever he wanted.

"What?" I murmured, trying to tease. I fluttered my eyes shut and inhaled.

"I haven't wanted someone like this in years. Maybe ever, in my life." His voice was hoarse, fierce.

"Oh, really?" I asked, trying to play it cool.

"Really." When he bent to scoop me into his arms, I considered his words. Certainly in my younger days men had made such declarations. They were words of lust. My ex had had plenty of them in rotation, and I'd believed them. Until he'd proved they were lies, all to make me part with the money I'd earned.

I'd assumed that, at my age, no man would ever say those words again to me.

And now that one had with such conviction—and with raspy, carnal neediness—I wasn't sure what to think.

We made our way to the bedroom, and Colin set me on the bed and stretched on top of me, his body engulfing mine.

"Do you want to close the curtains so it's dark?" I asked. The room was bathed in silvery light, and along the horizon the nighttime sun peeked between clouds.

Colin propped himself on his elbows and stared at me. "Why would I want to do that?"

I shrugged.

"Why wouldn't I want to look at your beautiful body and your gorgeous face when I fuck you? Because that's what I'm going to do." He said this while staring into my eyes, pressing his hips ever so slightly into mine. We were on a diagonal on the bed, fully clothed—our shoe-clad feet dangling off the edge—and yet it was erotic. A little dirty. Kind of like how he'd touched my palm with his thumb in the car. A fresh wave of wetness surged between my legs.

I gasped in surprise. He grinned.

"I'm not a prude when it comes to sex, but when you talk about it in that way, I get surp—"

"Shut up." He planted an incendiary kiss on my mouth, and all I could do was wrap my arms around him and kiss back.

He broke from my lips and found my ear. "I'm going to take off your clothes now. May I?"

I nodded, unable to breathe for a few seconds. He was commanding and asking for consent, all at once. What could be sexier?

Colin sat up and started at my feet, slipping off my new furry boots. Skimming his hands up my legs, he went under my skirt and pulled both my tights and my underwear off, sending another surge of wetness between my legs. Even the inner skin of my thighs was wet already.

I wanted him to touch me right then, but this was obviously part of a larger tease, because he hoisted me to sitting and slowly unzipped my jacket. Gracefully unwound my scarf. Kissed my neck with a maddening slowness, paying special attention to the patch of skin behind my earlobe while making murmuring noises in my ear. He slipped a thumb in my mouth, and I sucked, wishing, wanting it to be another harder and bigger part of him.

I let out a moan-sigh and allowed my eyes to close.

"My god, how many layers are you wearing?" He took his thumb out of my mouth, then pulled a sweater and turtleneck over my head.

I giggled and reached for my thin tank top, eager to be naked for him. "I'm not used to this cold."

"You don't feel particularly cold. Quite the opposite. And don't you dare take that shirt off. That's my job." I moved my hands, and he slipped his own under my shirt, unhooking my bra.

"You want to take this off before my tank top?"

"Mmhmm."

I wriggled out of my bra, and he ran his big palms over my breasts.

"Look at these. Look at these." With his thumbs and forefingers, he plucked at my nipples. "Is this because you're cold or something else?"

My nipples jutted through the thin fabric of the tank top.

"S-something else, I think."

"I see. Care to tell me what?"

"You."

He chuckled and tugged the tank over my head. When the shirt was over my face and my arms in the air, I heard him suck in a breath.

"Lie back."

Now shirtless and wearing nothing but a golden corduroy skirt that came to mid-thigh, I did as told.

He stood and began the slow undressing of himself. Shoes and socks first, then his jacket.

"Open your legs. No, wider."

I swallowed. Here he was, practically a stranger, giving me a command.

"Can you raise your skirt? Higher?"

And there I was, obeying his orders, until he could almost see the wetness between my legs. Almost. I spread my legs more.

"Jesus Christ, look at you. With that beautiful hair and those nipples. A goddess."

My hair was spread out on the pillow, everywhere. Colin flung his sweater and T-shirt to the ground, then shucked his pants and underwear in one fluid motion. I drank in his beauty as he knelt on the bed, all tan skin and muscles, long hard planes to my petite softness.

He unbuttoned my skirt and unzipped it, leaning to kiss my stomach and twirl slow rings around my bellybutton with his tongue. My muscles twitched, and I lifted my hips and pulled my legs together as he slid my skirt off. He sat up on his knees and stared at me.

"I can't believe how gorgeous you are. Jesus Christ."

I was ready to tell him to stop with the platitudes, but he growled and opened my legs again. His normally blue eyes were dilated, his pupils huge and black. A bit wild, a touch scary.

As mine probably were, because my gaze kept drifting to his stiff and straight erection.

A gorgeous erection, really.

"Is it adequate for you?" He raised an eyebrow and ran his warm hands over my breasts. He cradled them and squeezed softly. Then harder.

I laughed, enjoying his force. "It's exquisite."

"Exquisite?"

"Mmhmm. It looks to be a perfect size, a perfect girth."

And I could hardly wait to have it inside me.

He bent to kiss me softly. "Have you thought about what it would be like for me to fuck you?"

I laughed, low and throaty. "I have."

"Before or after you tried jerking me off in my sleep?"

I ran my hand over his muscled back, down to ass. It, too, was taut, and I squeezed. I bit my lip and grinned. "Before."

"Oh, really?" He dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth and bit until I felt a sting. I gasped.

"Tell me what you were thinking. Be dirty about it."

I laughed, and he flicked his tongue on my nipple, the sensation sending sparks through my veins. Then he stopped and I whimpered, begging him to continue.

"Talk to me and I'll do more of that with my tongue."

I tipped my head back and laughed. "Seems like a fair bargain, I suppose."

He kissed my neck. "Do you not like dirty talk? Is that why you were so mortified when the man in line at the airport talked about sex?"

I giggled, and Colin did, too. He kissed me softly.

"No, it was vulgar to talk about sex like that in public."

"So you're okay with it in bed?" His breath was hot on the skin of my breast, and then he leaned on his side. His fingers sought out the space between my legs and hovered there. I bucked my hips so my skin would meet his fingers.

"I'm perfectly okay with dirty talk in bed."

"Ahh. Good. I like discretion as well. It's much sexier when dirty things are whispered."

He stroked the seam of my sex with a gossamer touch, and I swallowed, unsure of when I'd been so aroused.

I nodded weakly and made a mewling noise of affirmation.

Colin grinned and nestled his mouth about a half-inch from my ear. "So you don't mind if I tell you privately that I want to eat your pussy. Or that I want to stroke your clit until you scream. Or if I inform you that I'm going to fuck you as much as I want until we leave for London?"

Dear God. He might make me come with just his voice. Was that possible? I inhaled sharply. "No. I don't mind one bit."

"Good. So tell me what you were fantasizing about. I want to see how wet I can make your pussy. And then I'll touch you. And lick you. And fuck you. Wash, rinse, repeat."

"I... Well, it was when we first walked into this bedroom."

He shifted and ran a tongue around my nipple. I thought I might burst from the intensity and stimulation alone. "Mmhm."

"And then I imagined being on my hands and knees."

The heel of his hand rested on the curls between my legs. "More."

"And I could see myself holding onto the slats of the headboard."

"While?" I was so slippery I was amazed that his fingers didn't immediately slide between my swollen outer lips. He gently bit my nipple, and I cried out.

"While you were behind me, entering me."

"Entering you? You mean fucking you." His breath was again at my ear, and I felt a sharp electrical charge when he said the word fucking.

"Yes," I panted.

Finally, his deft fingers disappeared into my wetness. I gasped, my skin tingling all over.

"Open wider. Like that. Do you know that this is what I've fantasized about for the last twenty-four hours, since I saw you at the airport? You with your legs spread, ready for me."

My breathing intensified.

"Did you think I'd fuck you slow or fast?" He slowly twirled my clit, breaking up the rhythm by dipping a finger inside me. I looked down at his hand between my legs and the sight of his thick fingers buried in me was pure, carnal perfection.

"Yes, God yes," I moaned. His finger found the hard pearl of my clit and rubbed in exactly the right place. I whimpered, loud.

"Yes what? Tell me. I want to hear you say it."

"Say, um, what?" I was having a difficult time concentrating because he moved his finger expertly, massaging my clit.

"Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

"Hard. I want you to..." I paused. "Fuck me. Hard. Colin..."

He pressed his face against my cheek and used his knee to spread me wider.

"That's right. I'm going to fuck you hard. Fuck you any way I want and make you come over and over. All night. I hope you're ready. You feel ready. Jesus, you feel incredible."

He penetrated me with two fingers. I swear, this man was shattering every defense I had with only his fingers and his voice. I was too excited and too needy for him to care about my fears or my past or my ex-husband or anything at all. Eager and edgy, I needed to orgasm. Desperately needed.

I let out a strangled cry. "Please? Colin?"

"God, I love it when you say my name in that voice of yours. Say it again. I want you to say it while you come. While I finger you."

So I said his name and I burst. I came. Over and over, a great wave as he fingered me, spread me, shattered me, all with his hand. Thinking was impossible; feeling was mandatory. He'd made me come undone, just as he'd said he would, with merely his hands.

I cried out, loud, then apologized in a whisper, incredulous at how amazing I felt.

"Samantha. I never want you to apologize when I give you an orgasm. I don't care if you scream or shake or spontaneously combust. I want you to own your orgasm. Do you promise?" he asked, in a ragged voice, trailing his fingers around my wet outer lips, making me shiver with the residual of an orgasm. Colin seemed shaky, as if he was awed at what he'd unleashed in me.

Thoughts skittered through my mind: what if I never had to apologize for anything again? What if I could spend my life feeling as loved and cherished and sexy as I did right at this very minute?

I was panting and anticipating what he was going to do with his body when he eased on top of me. His cock was right at my opening. He seemed to be in as much of a haze as I was.

"Colin?"

If he were to thrust in a certain way, he would be inside me. I held my breath as he hovered his mouth over mine. We breathed each other's air, ready, waiting, for the first thrust.

"Yes, baby. We need a condom." He sounded dazed and tender.

"We're reading each other's minds." I moved up, so he was further from my wet entrance.

He crawled to the far side of the bed. "My friend said they'd be in here."

I stretched my arms overhead, and my fingers found the slats of the headboard. I idly wondered when Colin had asked his friend if there were condoms in the condo. Had it been before we'd arrived or sometime today?

It didn't matter.

Colin rose up and stared at me as he tore open the foil packet, then unrolled the condom onto his cock. He tugged once at his balls, and something about the way he handled himself roughly made me tingly all over again.

"Don't move. Don't move even an inch. Stay like that, holding onto the bed with your legs spread. This was my fantasy when we walked in the bedroom."

"So the opposite of my fantasy? Face up instead of face down?"

He laughed and positioned himself between my legs. "That's because your face is so damned beautiful, I fantasized about looking at you. But we'll get to both of our fantasies eventually. And since you've already come, I get to watch you in the position I want. I get to fuck you exactly how I want."

I smiled, thrusting my chest out and tilting my hips upward. Holding his cock in his hand, he guided the tip inside me. Colin opened his mouth in a silent gasp, and I watched his face, rapt, as he filled me.

Once fully in, he stilled. We stared at each other in the silvery light, naked, in that all-white space.

"Samantha." His voice was a plea.

Holding onto my legs, he moved with slow, deep strokes.

"I anticipated you'd be rough," I murmured.

"Mmm. I thought I'd be because I wanted you so bad. But maybe I've changed my mind. Maybe I want this to last for a very long time because you feel pretty damned perfect, Samantha Citrouille."

I became slicker as he thrusted, until finally he was fucking me, hard. He moved on top of me, our bodies colliding against one another, his lips pressed to my throat.

The intensity growing.

The rhythm ever more erotic.

The space between us shrinking.

He bit my shoulder, leaving a little drool behind as if he couldn't quite control himself. I responded by digging my nails into his biceps.

"Am I being too rough?" His voice in my ear was strained. It never occurred to me that what we were doing was rough; it seemed simply perfect.

"No. Colin, no," I said.

"Good. Because I'm loving this. Loving every second of fucking you."

And I never wanted this to end.

He slipped an arm under my waist, hoisting me up so he could drive deeper into me. I wrapped my legs around him, so more of us could touch. I'd never felt such a strong pull toward a man before. If I had, Colin had long since erased the memory.

"I believe this falls in the category of exquisite." He propped himself up on his hands while grinding into me.

"It definitely does. I want you on top of me again, though. I need your weight on me."

He winced, almost in pain, but clearly in pleasure, and enveloped me. Thrust hard and steady. His buried his face in the hollow of my neck, and I closed my eyes and smiled. It had been so long since I'd made a man happy, I'd almost forgotten that I could. It felt like I was reclaiming something tonight, and as he told me that I was perfect and gorgeous and how I was the best he'd ever had, I believed him.

Maybe I deserved this pleasure. Getting it and giving it.

"I'm ready, Samantha. You're too much. Fuck." He groaned, a low, primal noise that made me ache. I felt him pulse violently inside me. I cupped his head, threading my fingers through his thick black hair. His big body was heavy atop mine, but I didn't care. I blinked in the direction of the ceiling and sighed dreamily.

"I could sleep like this, on top of you. You're extremely comfortable. Like the best pillow in the world."

I laughed and squeezed his ass.

Eventually we broke apart to wash, then drew the heavy curtains to a close. In the darkness, we tunneled under the covers. I drifted off in his strong arms and half-slept in a blurry state. Suspended between reality and dreams, I woke an hour or two later, the touch of his big hand on my stomach sending a sensual shudder through my body.

I reached for him, and quickly sheathing himself, he entered me almost immediately, because his need matched my own. Nothing about us was cautious or hesitant. No, everything about that night was wicked and sweet, hot and delicious. Our tongues licked flames across each other's skin, and we soothed the fire with kisses.

"This feels right," he whispered when he took me again, and something went tight in my belly. Instead of being rough and hard, what we were doing in the dark was sweetly tender. "It's like you're mine, Samantha."

"Maybe I am yours," I whispered back as my body shuddered with an orgasm and the long-buried desire to be the object of someone's focus. Perhaps this was bigger than a one-night stand. It certainly felt that way.

I was on top. My mouth was on his, hungry, his hands on my breast. He stopped kissing and I ceased my slow grind.

"Samantha? This isn't fucking, is it? It's something very different."

"Very, very different." I raggedly inhaled, because it was dark and he couldn't see the tears form in my eyes.

With every stroke, every touch, every urgent kiss, something in me ignited. I willingly gave up my hesitations. My fears. My inhibitions.

There, in the dark, I became lost in Colin. Became engulfed in the light he made me see within myself.

____