Sophia Sullivan and Ethan Sullivan surrendered completely to their desires.
If the cruise ship encounter had been accidental, this was deliberate abandon.
Ethan refused to confine himself to the bed.
The cold marble floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed in moonlight. The supple leather sofa.
He pressed Sophia against the frosted glass like a ravenous beast.
Outside, music pulsed through the night. Inside, their rhythm grew feverish.
This was madness beyond anything before.
When Ethan carried her toward the bed, Sophia's legs wrapped around his waist, trembling on the brink.
Desire crashed over them in waves.
Not even the air conditioning could cool the sweat beading at Ethan's temples.
Once awakened, his hunger knew no exhaustion.
From tender foreplay to primal movements in darkness, he commanded every moment.
Pinned against the mattress edge, Sophia's curls tumbled across her chest, veiling the marks he'd left.
She arched upward, fingers lacing behind Ethan's neck.
"Too deep."
Consciousness made every sensation sharper.
He found every sensitive point with devastating precision.
Sophia's breathing fractured.
Her palms pressed against his sculpted chest, only to be pinned down with greater force.
Oppressive. Damp. Untamed.
Control shattered between them again and again.
Until Sophia reversed their positions, straddling his waist.
Her fingers closed around Ethan's throat—only for him to catch her fingertips between his teeth.
"Don't move. You're playing with fire."
His chest heaved, arousal spiking in the darkness.
Sophia's silhouette was perfection.
A slipped shoulder strap. The ruined mermaid gown pooled at her waist, outlining every curve.
"Can't handle it?" she gasped.
Ethan's graveled whisper was pure seduction.
At the peak of frenzy, Sophia yanked off his tie and blindfolded him.
Her lips found the mole on his throat.
Darkness made Ethan crave her more.
Sophia's past didn't matter.
Tonight, he surrendered willingly.
...
The charity gala ended near midnight.
The lounge door remained shut for three hours.
When Ethan awoke, Sophia stood barefoot on the balcony railing.
A cigarette glowed between her fingers.
Smoke curled toward the moon as she gazed at the sky.
Ethan lit his own cigarette from hers.
"You're up early."
"Mmm." His dress shirt hung loose on her shoulders. "Gala's over."
"Auction's still happening."
Ethan's gaze traced her legs, the marks peeking above her collarbone.
His skin bore matching evidence.
"Attending, Ms. Sullivan?"
"Might as well."
Her voice was raw.
Every muscle ached like a well-used feline.
"Your gown's destroyed. Borrowing this."
The mermaid dress lay in tatters.
Even her necklace had disappeared.
"Spares in the closet." Ethan stubbed out his cigarette. "We haven't missed it."
Neither smoked regularly.
Only with each other did restraint dissolve.
Sophia steadied her breath. "Alright."
Neither mentioned what had transpired.