The sunlight gleamed off the ocean. Impossibly blue water lapped at impossibly white sand. A cloudless sky and scorching sun was perfectly offset by a sea-salt-scented breeze. The perfect combination of heat and sun and wind.

A spicy scent surrounded me as he ran his hands over my sweat-slicked skin. Up my back and then down, over my ass and down my legs. His thumbs worked into knotted muscles, then spread my cheeks.

A hot, wet tongue probed at my pussy, and I moaned, pushing back for more. Little trickles of pleasure rippled across my nerves, and I wanted it to never end. This place. This feeling. Being here with him. I wanted to stay here and never have to go back to the real world.

But the real world was calling…

Awareness came to me in stages.

I was inside, and the little bit of light coming between the curtains was fairly gray.

I was on a bed with nice sheets. Really nice sheets. That smelled amazing.

As did the body above me. Spicy. Like the sunscreen from my dream.

Heat radiated off him, caressing my skin. His hands were on me too. Palms skimming and fingers massaging. Part of my dream made reality.

I moaned, and he chuckled, the sound as sensual as silk whispering across skin.

“Good morning.” His voice was rough as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my spine.

“I was having an amazing dream,” I said, my own voice thick with sleep.

“Were you?” He massaged up the backs of my thighs, his thumbs brushing the bottom of my cheeks. “Better than this?”

I looked over my shoulder at him. “A little.”

He raised an eyebrow, humor dancing in his amazing turquoise eyes. “How so?”

I flushed but didn’t hesitate to share. “You had your mouth on me.”

“Let me remedy that.” He pushed my legs apart and settled between them, his wide shoulders tucking under my thighs as he pulled up my hips, and then his mouth was on me.

Jalen Larsen was a gorgeous twenty-seven-year-old billionaire tech genius, but at the moment, all I could think about was that he had an insanely talented tongue.

It danced around, drawing patterns on sensitive flesh, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through me that made what I’d felt in the dream pale by comparison. I closed my eyes and let my head fall down to the mattress. I didn’t let myself think of the mechanics, instead focusing on the sensations coursing through me. Letting myself feel rather than think.

I squirmed, my nipples rubbing pleasantly against the sheets, and he chuckled again, this time sending vibrations through me. A moment later, a finger slid inside me.

“Mmm…” I made a pleased sound.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so wet.”

When he shifted positions, I sucked in a breath. His tongue was venturing somewhere new. He’d told me once that he’d do this, but I hadn’t really expected it like this.

“Relax, Rona.” He added a second finger in my pussy, twisting them even as he moved them in and out of me. “I’m not planning on fucking your ass just yet. Just enjoy yourself.”

I opened my mouth to give a smart reply but ended up only swearing when his tongue teased over my asshole. It felt strange, but not in a bad way. I liked it, in fact.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew what I’d like even when I didn’t. He’d understood me almost from the first moment we’d touched. What we had between us wasn’t ‘normal,’ but it was…strong. This connection, it was something I couldn’t explain, but I couldn’t deny it either. He made me feel things…

He sank his teeth into my ass cheek, and I yelped.

“Stop thinking.”

Thinking was almost always a problem for me. I had so much going on in my head that I sometimes lost sight of who I was. Of what was important. What was good in my life.

We were home. Safe. My father was back in prison where he belonged. Justice had won. Clay and I were friends. Jalen and I had dealt with our issues. I was still mourning Adare, but I understood grief, and I knew she would’ve understood me letting it go for this.

His fingers moved inside me, finding that spot that made me forget everything except the current of electricity it sent rushing across my nerves until I shattered. As I came, he pulled his fingers out, and I whimpered, my body convulsing again as a mini-orgasm rolled through me.

He pulled my hips up until I was on my knees, but when I tried to lift myself onto my hands, my arms wouldn’t hold me. He chuckled as I slumped onto my elbows, bracing myself for what I knew was coming. A moment later, he drove into me, and I cried out as my body stretched too fast.

He froze for a moment. “Are you–”

“Don’t stop.” I barely managed to get the words out. “Please, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I could hear the grin, and it made me smile too. I’d smiled during sex before, but this was different. This was humor. I’d had heat and friendship during the few weeks that Clay Kurth and I had been in our ‘friends with benefits’ stage, but I’d never had actual humor during sex.

I liked it. Almost as much as I liked the way Jalen felt inside me. Almost…because there was absolutely nothing that could compare to the way we fit together, the thickness and length of him, how much my body molded itself to accommodate him. As if nothing as small as spatial relations could keep us from being as physically close as two people could be.

“You’re doing it again,” he said as he slammed into me hard enough to jar my thoughts. “No thinking.”

My retort came out breathless. “I thought I was in charge.”

He leaned over me and put his lips at my ear. “Now, what made you think that?”

He laughed again, and there was heat in the sound. The sort of heat that sent the flames inside me roaring, consuming me from the inside out. I was going to come again, this time with fire rather than lightning. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around my wrists. As he pulled my arms behind my back, I knew I could resist him and he’d let go, but I didn’t even consider it. I might have teased about being in charge, but I liked the freedom that came with not being in control.

My cheek rested on the bedspread as my hands settled at the small of my back, the position somewhat awkward but not necessarily uncomfortable. I had a feeling, though, that my neck and shoulders would complain if I was left this way too long. He used one hand to hold my wrists in place while the other moved to my hip.

“Good?” he asked.

I nodded as best I could. “Good.”

He didn’t attempt to ease me into anything, trusting that I would tell him if I couldn’t take it. The next thrust took my breath away, and what came after kept me gasping for air, each inhalation driven out of me by the snap of his hips, the angle of penetration, the ache in my shoulders. Overwhelming contradictory sensations converged into one tight knot low in my belly, a white-hot explosive just waiting to blow my world apart.

“Fuck, J,” I panted. “Don’t stop. So good. So good. Don’t stop. Fuck. Please. Just like that.”

His thumb slid down my crease, stopped, pushed.

I came with a wordless scream.

He kept going, cursing as I convulsed around him. His thumb popped out, but I barely noticed. Each stroke sent another orgasm rolling over me. Or maybe they kept that first one going. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. His grip on my wrists tightened, and he pulled me upright, my back against his front. He wrapped his arm around my waist, driving up into me.

“Close,” he grunted, “so close.”

“Fucking hot.” I let my head fall back on his shoulder. “Fucking hot when you come. Should be fucking illegal.”

He pressed his lips to the top of my head. I turned toward him so he could take my mouth. His tongue twisted with mine in a scorching kiss. His hips jerked, losing his rhythm. The kiss became sloppy, desperate as he chased his release. I reached up, burying my fingers in his hair, the rich brown strands as soft as they looked. He bit my bottom lip, and I groaned into his mouth. A shudder passed through him, and his cock twitched, then pulsed as he came.

We collapsed onto the bed, a pile of sweaty, trembling limbs. Soon, we’d need to get up, return to the real world. We had jobs and friends and family, bills to pay and responsibilities to care for, lives that we’d put on hold.

But right now, in this moment, I could just lay here and exist. Me and him and nothing else, no one else. He was my respite, and I intended to appreciate every second we had together.