“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are locked on my face as he gently tucks the loose strands of my disintegrating chignon behind my ear.

The tender sweep of his hot, rough finger pads across my cheekbone makes me shiver. His touch is perfect. “Really?” I try to hold his gaze but I feel like it’ll consume me so my eyes tumble to his mouth.

He licks his lips when he nods. “Really…Your skin is like velvet. And your lips are the perfect shade of pink.” His finger pad outlines the shape of my mouth.

Fire spreads across my cheeks. There’s so much sincerity and desire in his words. I’m not a particularly insecure person but nothing will knock a girl’s confidence down a few pegs like getting stood up at the altar.

Am I not beautiful enough? Is that why the guy I’ve loved since I was 13 made a last minute detour instead of showing up at our wedding?

Yet here’s this stranger, touching me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. His caress is reaching past the surface of my skin, sinking into my soul.

We’re standing toe-to-toe in the middle of his tiny 12^th floor hotel room with nothing but the neon lights from the bustling street outside pouring in to illuminate the room. My heartbeat mimicks the frantic energy of the Strip. My blood whizzes loudly through my ears.

My dress is in a pile on the floor while his suit jacket is draped tidily over the back of a chair. When we arrived here a few minutes ago, I kicked off my white satin heels by the door next to his neatly-arranged loafers. Now, that I’ve lost four inches, I can truly absorb his height.

He’s tall. Maybe six feet five. And now that he’s towering over me, his shoulders seem even broader. So very masculine.

“You have such beautiful eyes, Daisy.”

And he has such beautiful everything. Every part of him is spectacular. It’s overwhelming.

My eyes dart to the side of his face. "You have...very attractive ears," I blurt out like a moron.

He laughs throatily. The rich sound permeates the air and dissipates some of the nervous tension I feel. “My ears?” He grazes the lobes with his fingers. “That’s all I’ve got going for me, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize as I bury my face in his chest. “I’m sorry. I kind of suck at flirting.”

I was with Josh since the eighth grade. We’d gotten to that comfortable place in our relationship. That place where we weren’t really trying to impress each other anymore. So, I’m very much out of practice.

“Plus, I've never had a one-night stand before and I'm not feeling particularly sexy tonight. I’m just...I'm really nervous."

He pulls me closer and tilts my chin up. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” I’m close enough to feel his cock hardening and lengthening against my belly. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know exactly how sexy you are. You won’t ever doubt it again.”

My pussy clenches at the words like she’s trying to catch them and hold onto them.

I want this so much. I want him so much.

When he lowers his face to mine, I wrap my arms around his neck and inch up on my toes. My heart hammers with anticipation. But there’s a trifling, little voice at the back of my mind, telling me that this is wrong…I shift my face away at the last second.

I stumble a half-step back. A single tear crawls down my face.

He brushes it away. “Daisy, I really, really want you. I need to make that clear, just so you don’t doubt it…But we don’t have to do this. You have every right to change your mind.” His thumb brushes my jaw back and forth.

I peek up at him. He looks like a completely different man now that we’re in his room. Just as handsome and tempting but the smug veneer he wore at the bar is gone. There’s so much kindness on his face. Only kindness.

Lust builds in my blood. It travels down my limbs, making my body tingle and heat. Making the space between my thighs go slick.

My hand runs down the front of his chest, riding the pounding rhythm of his heart. “I want you so bad, it’s killing me.”

He takes my hand in his and slowly, he pulls my huge diamond engagement ring from my finger. A shuddering breath moves out of me as he flings the jewel to the floor.

To me, it’s symbolic. With that one gesture, my status as a single woman solidifies in my mind.

His gaze zones in on my mouth. I close my eyes and tilt my face up.

I feel blunt fingertips tracing my hairline and tucking loose tresses away from my face before rough palms clamp down on my cheeks and slide the length of my neck. His lips come down on mine with a need that’s slow and savage. The force of it, enough to make my knees falter. I stumble backward until I collapse onto the bed, pulling him down with me.

As our tongues loop and dance together, my hands embark on a frantic search for his skin, tearing at the buttons of his shirt.

Meanwhile, he’s kissing my throat and chest. He unclasps my strapless bra and my breasts spring free. Suddenly, I’m aware of how tiny they are. They feel so inadequate. But he cups them and brushes his mouth across the tips. He circles one nipple with his thumb while pinching the other between his fingers.

“God—every part of you is perfect, Daisy. Every part of you is so sweet.”

Hovering above me, his fingers loop into the waistband of my lacy bridal garter belt. There’s no air in the room as he slowly pulls it down my thighs. He releases a sharp hiss as his eyes follow the sensual movement. I hold my breath and goosebumps crawl the length of my thighs.

When all my underwear is flung halfway across the room, his hands are braced on my thighs. He looks over at me, as if waiting for one more act of confirmation, one further bit of assurance that this is exactly what I want.

I’m sure about this. There’s not a doubt in my mind.

I widen my stance, spreading my thighs further apart and I guide his hand to my pussy. He growls as I slide his fingers through my wetness, my heat. “I did this to you, Daisy.” There’s a note of awe in his voice as he rubs me back and forth. “You’re wet like this for me.”

I confirm it with a whisper. “I am.”

His jaw clenches and lust engulfs his irises like a dark inferno. Quickly, he dips his hand into his pocket and produces a condom from his wallet. Then, he drops his pants to the floor, revealing his long, powerful thighs. I lie there, breathless and willing, as I watch him stretch it over his broad tip and down the thick length of his erection.

I lean up and greedily steal a kiss, sliding my mouth against his. His tongue pushes between my lips and I groan at the warm, velvety texture. He uses the distraction to his advantage, swiping the crown of his cock along my super sensitive clit. I buck, arching my hips for more of the fantastic feeling, crying out against his lips. And then, he changes the angle, breaching me in one powerful movement. I cry out some more.

We fall into a rhythm. My ankles locked around his waist, he pounds into me. Each thrust is deep and confident and hits a package of nerves so sensitive it will probably be the cause of my untimely death.

Here lies Sophia Gallo who died in the throes of a violent orgasm. She regrets nothing.

That should make a fun inscription on my tombstone.

Yep. The sex is gonna kill me. I’ve accepted it. And I’m not complaining.

At the bar, he warned me that he was good at this. He told me he’d give me the hardest orgasms of my life. I guess I sort of thought he was speaking in hyperbole.

He wasn’t.

My fingernails grate along his scalp. “So good…So so so good…Fuck, please…Go deeper…Harder. Please.” My begging grows more desperate and shameless as the sensations head toward their peak.

My words shock me. I can’t believe they’re coming from my mouth. Before this moment, I’d never begged for a dick in my life.

Sophia Gallo has always been a lady. A classy chick.

I’ve never been so brazen about what I want in bed. Yes, I would give Josh subtle hints and indirect suggestions—lord knows he needed them—but never have I come straight out at the height of my orgasm and screamed…

“Give me your fucking cock! Don’t you fucking stop! Pound me until you fracture my pelvis!”

Yeah…those kinds of words were never in my vocabulary.

They weren’t until tonight, at least.