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rigid, above the fabric.
    “Oh, Jesus, Lily …” he breathed.
    He took one of her nipples in his mouth and something ignited between her legs. She thought her whole body might catch fire, the sensation so foreign, so overwhelming, she could hardly stand it.
    He licked and lapped, alternately sucking on the pink bud and circling it with his tongue. Her body moved of its own accord, her back arching, hips rising off the bed. He reached behind her, lifting the small of her back as his mouth made its way to the other breast, as if he couldn’t have it in his mouth fast enough. As if he couldn’t get close enough to her.
    She knew the feeling, and she moaned as he fastened his mouth on her before moving down the flat of her stomach, trailing kisses until he pulled back the thong, sliding it down her legs and tossing it aside.
    He paused, gazing at her like he was trying to memorize every inch of her body before he gently parted her legs. She heard the intake of his breath as her womanhood was revealed.
    He lowered his head, tenderly kissing the inside of her thighs, slowly moving upward from the space near her knee until she could feel his hot breath on her center. Lightening shot through her veins as his tongue found her, hot and wet.
    He lapped at her core, exploring every inch of her until she was moaning without shame, without restraint, dying for him to fill her with his hardness.
    She touched his hair, silky under her fingers, as he tongued her hot center. He circled her tiny blossom with his tongue, drawing it up and out over and over, a volcano of passion building and building until it was finally let loose, an explosion of pleasure rocking her body.
    She cried out, lost to everything but the inferno inside her, the feel of his mouth against her wet womanhood as she came against his mouth.
    She was trembling when he rose, sliding up and over her, pausing to grab the condom from the nightstand, tearing it open and throwing the wrapper aside, his eyes wild with desire. He paused between her legs, and she grabbed his hips, looking into his eyes.
    “I’ll die if I don’t feel you inside me, Kane.”
    He groaned, positioning his tip against her slickness until she gasped. She didn’t take her eyes off him as he slid into her, stopping only when he reached resistance.
    He hesitated, looking down at her with a question she couldn’t answer. Didn't want to answer. Not now. Now, there was only him, and she wanted him like she had never wanted anything before.
    She pulled his hips toward her in one thrust, opening her body to him, rising to meet him. There was a brief twinge of pain. Then only pleasure and heat and the knowledge that her body belonged to him.
    He seemed to slow, and when he reached up to brush the hair back from her forehead, there was tenderness in his eyes. She moved against him, his wet shaft sliding in and out of her, and told him without words that she was okay. That she wanted this. Wanted him.
    She took his mouth, parting it with her tongue as his manhood opened her, gently at first and then with more urgency, the inferno building in her again as he moved faster, growing harder and bigger inside her until she thought she would pass out from the exquisite torment of it.
    His body tightened, and he lowered his head to the hollow of her collarbone, breathing her name as she shook against him, his body shuddering against her as he poured into her.

Thirteen
    She was gone when he woke up, the sun fighting its way through the heavy draperies at the hotel window. He lay back down and closed his eyes, the night coming back to him in a flash of memory.
    Lily’s warmth pressing into him, her legs entwined around his hips.
    Her hands in his hair as he tasted her, the musky sweetness of her filling him with desire.
    Her perfect body rising to meet his, the wet softness as he slid inside her.
    And then, the realization that she was a virgin.
    He didn’t know why he was surprised. She was Lily. Sweet—though