"Again."

The sex-laden voice, rough and demanding, roused Delilah from sleep. Without opening her eyes, a smile—already well-satisfied—curved her lips. Her head gave a dull ache but it was lost in the wash of sensation as strong, firm hands took control of her hips, lifting her up onto legs still shaky from the last loving. She rubbed her face against the pillow, almost embarrassed by the rush of heat and need that arrowed down to the open folds of her sex. Folds that even now grew plumper, slicker, beneath the intensity of a gaze she could feel like a stroke of his tongue.

She wanted that tongue. Again. Feeling wanton, almost powerful, she stirred her hips for him slowly waving from left to right and back again.

His grip tightened, but he did nothing to stop her. "I've waited years to look at you just like this."

She almost laughed. She'd never had a problem with his looking, but Craig almost never wanted her positioned like this anymore. The last month or so, he'd barely even touched her...

Delilah frowned, her fuzzy brain trying to remember something, something important. She stared down at her hands, her fingers knotted in the sheets, focusing on the rings on her finger. Not the silver band Craig had given her six months ago. Not the pale sapphire he d said matched her eyes. Instead a clear diamond, marquis-shaped, bound by gleaming gold and a matching smooth band next to it, resting where Craig's ring should have been. She blinked at it, confused how it got there, when the heat of his open mouth came down on the highest curve of her unturned ass. Synapses fired like the fountains outside their hotel and the thought was gone.

She lifted higher for him, crying into the pillow with a voice gone half-hoarse. He ate at her flesh, licking and suckling hard enough to leave a mark and send her nerve endings into paroxysms. Up over her hip, along the sensitive nip of her waist, along the indent of her spine as one hand reached beneath her and cupped her aching breast. She jerked against his mouth, shocked at her own unexpected reaction, torn between feeling too much and wanting even more.

It's never been like this before...

She'd been with Craig for three years, but not once in all that time had he devoured her like this. Had he set her on on fire like this. Though she'd always crushed the stray, not-quite-sated thoughts from her head, this time she couldn't get over how every part of her body felt at this moment. Alive. Tingling. As if he'd spent the entire night wringing pleasure from every single inch of her and still wanted more. Made her want more. Why now? Because they'd finally gotten married last night?

Wait, wait a second, the ceremony had been set for morning—so why did she remember stars overhead? A gazebo? What the hell...

Blunt fingertips dragged over one side of her ass, obliterating her questions and leaving fading furrows in her skin heading inexorably for her sex. She moaned as he repositioned her knees on top of some pillows. Utterly lost in the feel of those callused hands moving over her, stroking the pouting lips up one side and down the other. Slowly. Teasingly. Parting them to dip inside, drawing the moisture he found into mind-bending circles around her opening... She arched higher, desperate to deepen the stroke for him.

Which only made him laugh.

Right before he sank two fingers deep into her.

Delilah shuddered, her legs nearly giving out in relief, her internal muscles rippling around his surging touch. Again and again he pumped his fingers, taking the relief and heightening her need with it until she felt like mass of desperation.

"So close already," he crooned, laying his hard body over her so he could rumble in her ear. She blinked, his voice sending flickers of recognition through her. Craig's body wasn't soft, but it wasn't the hot, rippling steel flexing against her bare back. His fingers delved again, stroking her once, twice, before pulling out and leaving her empty, but not for long.

Even as she moaned, he began to push inside her. Thick flesh, hot and rigid, moved through her folds with a carefulness that belied his earlier aggression. She took him in smoothly, her body already familiar with the feel of him.

She pushed back against him, so deliciously full of him she couldn't manage a deep breath. Panting, she closed her eyes, torn between the screaming passion threatening to burn her up or pushing past the cottony blocks of her memory. He seemed to understand the precipice she balanced on, remaining perfectly still, perfectly buried within her.

If only it could stay like this forever. She didn't want to think. Didn't want to break this sensual spell. Didn't want to open her eyes and realize that the man behind her wasn't her fiancé.

Or that she didn't care.

Delilah cried out, lifting her head. The only truth that mattered right now was how much she needed him. Powerful thighs flexed against her own as he began to move. He reached for her, pulling her up, against his chest, his hands clasping her breasts, mouth open on the back of her neck. He drew hard, pumping up into her relentlessly, meeting her rocking motion back to him. Her head fell back on his shoulder, her own hands latching over his. Their fingers wove together, their bodies moving as if they'd been lovers for years.

As if they'd been made for each other.

She opened her eyes, heavy though the lids were, when she felt him staring at her with that smoldering green gaze. A gaze that had always followed her, always made her feel like everyone around her could see the lies she told herself and everyone else to get through each day. That stare cut her open every time it caressed her face, demanding her honesty though the man himself never once uttered a word to ensure she gave it. In three years, that gaze never failed to make her cheeks flame and her body tingle in ways it shouldn't.

It didn't do any good to avoid him now, she already knew who he was.

Kane Wilkensen.

The best man at her wedding.