No, she thought sadly, pressing her lips and tongue to the divot between his collarbones so she could finally taste his golden skin, one night between them would never be enough. There was far too much of him to admire and explore. The breadth of his shoulders. The strong arms, all muscle and sinew. The sculpted chest and ladder rungs of his lean torso, both lightly dusted with dark hair that disappeared beneath his belt. The unmistakable bulge that strained the front of his pants.

She lost herself in him for a minute, running her lips, face and breasts all along his neck and upper body while she tried to imprint the exquisite experience of him—his rippling muscles, tensing and playing beneath her touch; his masculine scent; the flaming heat from his big body; the growing rumbles of approval from deep inside him—on her memory banks forever.

Greedy now, undone, she undid his belt and zipper—

“Pas ce soir, ma reine,” he said apologetically, grabbing her wrist before she could reach for him.

Lust made her dazed and slow. “What?”

“Not tonight. Much as I want those hands and lips on me, if you do it now, I won’t last three seconds.”

With that, he swept her lightly into his arms and swung her around to his bed. Laid her down like she was made of antique crystal. Stared down at her with heated eyes while she raised her arms over her head and stretched, arching her back just to see what he would do.

“Merde,” he muttered, looming over her.

“Come here,” she said, reaching for him.

“Not yet.”

“What are you doing?” She ran her hands over her breasts and down her belly, then stroked herself between her legs. “Don’t you know how hot I am right now?”

Shaky exhale. “I’m looking at you. Nice collar, by the way.”

“I forgot about it,” she said sheepishly, reaching for the clasp in the back.

“Don’t take it off. I like it. I wish I had my camera.”

“I’m not into nude photos,” she said, turning on her side and propping up on an elbow to watch him.

“Good.” Roguish grin as he reached for his nightstand drawer and the toiletries kit inside, withdrawing several condoms. “That means I’ll be the only man who has any.”

“Oh, no you—”

“Shhh.” Reaching for her waist, he dragged her to the edge of the bed, positioning her with her legs dangling over the side. Then he dropped to his knees between them. “Now is not the time for talking.”

It sure the hell wasn’t. Not when he lowered his head and went to work on her from top to bottom. He started with her breasts, pushing them together and running his face all over them, wallowing in the feeling of her while she wallowed in his touch. Then his thumbs got to work, circling her areolae and slowly zeroing in on her nipples, until finally he licked them into his mouth. Suckled until her hips involuntarily rose off the bed to meet him and her breathy cries grew loud and unabashed.

He slid lower, dipping his talented tongue into her belly button and making her writhe even as his silky hair slid over her skin, tickling her.

And then, when his mouth was mere inches from her throbbing sex, just when he had her teetering on some previously undiscovered sensual edge, with insanity on one side and a screaming orgasm on the other, he turned his skills and attention to her legs.

He nipped the inside of her thigh, making her jackknife at the waist. Maybe he wanted her insane. Maybe it was all part of some diabolical plan to make her look foolish while nonsense words and mewls poured out of her mouth.

Maybe he wanted to give her a few seconds to cool down just so he could heat her up all over again.

Whatever. It worked.

“Baptiste…”

The protest had no visible effect on him. He held her ankle to stretch her leg out straight.

“Love the sandals,” he said, gliding his fingers over the gold straps up to her knee and hitting all the deliciously sensitive nerve endings on the inside of her leg as he did. The other leg got the same treatment, with special attention given to her instep—her instep! —which seemed to possess some secret wiring that sent jolts of electrical current directly to her sex.

Each touch was a tiny shock of sensation that made her flesh leap and her belly quiver.

“Hold still,” he teased, his voice heavy with laughter as he turned to one of her thighs, kissing, nuzzling and nipping his way up to her pussy. He clamped his hands on her hips to hold her steady. “You have ants in your jeans.”

“Pants,” she said weakly.

“Whatever,” he said, and put his mouth on her as he rested one of her legs on his broad shoulder.

He knew what he was doing. Her strangled cries filled the air as his talented tongue swirled and flicked, cranking her higher than she’d ever been before. Her overwhelmed body couldn’t handle the growing tension, and her fumbling hands didn’t know what to do. She held his head in a death grip, probably pulling his glorious sable hair out by the roots, just so she’d have something to anchor her to the earth. Her fingers flexed. Her toes curled. Her skittering heart careened toward cardiac arrest, which was a real feat considering that most of the blood in her body had surely pooled in her sex by now.

There was a final flick. A lingering nuzzle of his lips.

And he catapulted her off that invisible edge, putting his back into a two-handed shove that had her flying through the dark night sky, a silent scream on her lips.

The orgasm went on and on.

And on.

After he’d wrung more pleasure from her than she’d realized her body could experience, he moved quickly, sliding up over her and settling in the cradle of her hips. She heard the sound of his belt buckle. His zipper. Dazed, she opened her eyes in time to see him rip open a foil packet with his teeth and sheath himself, not even bothering to take his silk boxers off all the way.

His face was flushed and tight with strain, his jaw set. Muscles bulged in his supporting arm as he levered over her and gripped himself. She eagerly cocked her hips for him, but at the very last second, his feverishly bright gaze flicked back up to hers.

“Ça va?”

Was it okay?

Was he serious?

“Fuck me,” she said, pulling his face down so he could kiss her. She needed his dick inside her and his tongue in her mouth. “Please. Fuck me.”

A hint of a grin from Baptiste.

Then he surged inside her, burying himself to the hilt.

She cried out, feeling her face twist and her mouth gape with utter disbelief.

First thing? People who claimed white men had small penises didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

Second? In a historic first, she actually felt the telltale clenching inside her body that announced another orgasm locking and loading in the chamber, ready to fire very soon.

Third? This complete stranger had her completely wrung out. And he wasn’t even done with her yet.

The only good thing?

As he stared down at her, his shadowed expression reflected the same turbulence she currently felt.

“Ça va?”

His voice sounded softer this time. Gentler. Sweeter. His eyes seemed to glow in the subdued light from the nightstand.

“Oui,” she said, trying to catch her breath as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. “Ça va.”

He began to move, his hips swiveling in wondrous, rhythmic strokes. He dipped his head and brushed her lips with his, his languid tongue just a tease designed to unravel her.

As he’d predicted, they fit perfectly together, straining and flowing with their limbs twined and their mouths fused. Soon—too soon; not soon enough—her second orgasm overtook her, wringing his strangled name from her as the pleasure spiraled and she arched into him.

He lifted his head to watch her, and in that raw moment she felt no need or desire to hide her reactions.

This unprecedented experience here, with him, was everything. He deserved to know. So she cooed. Allowed herself a sultry smile as her eyes rolled closed and she dissolved into molten gold.

“Mon Dieu.” Shaky laugh from Baptiste as his tempo increased. “D’où venez-vous?”

My God. Where did you come from?

Dark triumph made her laugh as she wallowed in this moment of supreme femininity.

Did he own her tonight? Absolutely.

And she owned him.

She lifted her heavy lids and looked him in the face. The sudden intimacy when their gazes connected felt almost unbearable. Animalistic sex was one thing, and it was easy enough to check out for that. Quite another to see the sweat dotting his brow, the prickly stubble across the harsh planes of his cheeks and the utter astonishment in his eyes as she tightened both her inner muscles and her thighs’ hold on his waist.

She licked and then nuzzled his lips, a teasing little kiss that made his entire body tense into stone.

“I’ve been right here,” she said. “The question is, what took you so long to get here?”

“I don’t know.” He cupped her face. Trailed his thumbs across her brows and down her cheeks. Stroked her lips with unexpected tenderness, then gasped when she sucked one of his thumbs deep into her mouth. “But if I’d known what I was missing, I would have been here years ago.”

She had time for a quick grin.

Then he kissed her again. Hooked one of his arms behind her knee to open her wider. Swiveled his hips. Fucked her harder. Deeper. Lost some of his rhythm as his arms began to tremble and his own orgasm overtook him.

She dug her nails into the flexing globes of his ass to spur him on.

It worked.

He tensed and cried out in French, a ragged shout of rapture that she couldn’t understand. But the way her name poured out of his mouth—over and over again—said it all.

Then it was finally over, and only their harsh breathing and a stunned silence remained.

Samira stared up into the face of this man she didn’t know, suddenly overcome by their nakedness. The exquisite sensitivity of her nipples where they brushed against his hard chest as she tried to catch her breath. The feeling of him deep inside her, stretching all those secret and unused muscles. The unyielding strength of his muscular legs as she slowly released her death grip on his waist and ran her feet down the backs of his thighs, being careful of her heels.

Never in her life had she felt this exposed and vulnerable.

And it was way past too late for feeling shy, but she couldn’t stop a hot blush from sweeping up her neck and over her cheeks as she thought about her situation.

This wasn’t normal.

She didn’t have sex with strange men fifteen minutes after meeting them.

She didn’t leave all her inhibitions on the floor with her discarded clothes.

She didn’t have explosive orgasms back-to-back.

Or ever.

And she damn sure didn’t have men look at her like that—with all that stunned wonder—when they were in bed with her.

What the hell were they supposed to do or say now? Why had no one ever trained her in one-night-stand etiquette?

She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but evidently these kinds of orgasms blew all coherence right out of your mind.

That bright gaze of his saw everything, leaving her thoughts as exposed as her body. He shifted his weight, locking her in place as he stroked his soothing fingers up and down her side.

“You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I don’t know what the rules are here.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m not sure the rules apply to us. And I did mention that I’d be inside you in the morning.” He thrust his hips, just enough to spark another spiraling wave of sensation. “Or did you forget?”

That almost made her laugh. As if she could forget any detail about this unprecedented night.

“I didn’t forget.”

“But you want to leave me?”

Funny how he managed to be 50 percent sexiest man alive and 50 percent vulnerable little boy. And she didn’t want to leave either one of them.

“No,” she said quietly. “I want to stay here.”

“Right here?” He thrust his hips again, and the little boy receded in favor of the sophisticated and vaguely wicked man who’d seduced her inside of an hour.

“Right here,” she said, gliding her leg back up his and resettling it around his waist.

“Well.” His eyes gleamed as he snuck a hand between them and flicked her nipple, making muscles in her belly spasm. “I did promise you extraordinary.”

“Yes, you did.”

They grinned at each other.

Then he kissed her again as he trailed his fingers up the backs of her thighs and stroked her pussy from behind.

She cried out because she was so undone. So sated and sore.

And still so exquisitely aroused.

Eyes glinting with masculine knowledge and triumph, he stroked her harder.

Her skin leapt and sizzled, and the dance began again.