The voice of reason pounds at the back of my skull, and still, I allow Lucas to drag me from the ballroom by my wrist. I glance over my shoulder and blush when I spot Buck watching us leave. He raises his glass and winks.

Busted.

With my luck, it will be me that makes the fucking front page.

Rattled, my heels catch on the bottom of my gown. I pitch forward, falling into Lucas’s arms with the grace of an elephant. Without a word, he steadies me, motions for me to wait, and then heads to the reception desk with determined strides.

I twist my fingers behind my back, fidgeting as Lucas hands over a credit card, takes the access key, stalks back. He roughly grabs my and half drags me to the elevator. My palms slick with sweat. The door swooshes open, we step inside, the air crackles with tension so thick you could slice it.

Neither of us speaks.

My chest swells so tight I can barely breathe.

Lucas lifts his gaze to the light at the top of the elevator, watching the numbers crawl toward the penthouse suite. With his attention diverted, I study his profile, the clench of his jaw, the firm line of his lips pressed together. He’s frustrated, or mad, or I don’t even know what.

This is ridiculous. Foolish. A complete mistake. I’ve seen him when he’s angry, and it wasn’t pretty.

But how can I resist the need that pulls my insides tight like an elastic band, stretched almost to breaking?

Nothing has changed between us—he is Lucas Hammer, and I’m just…me. The kind of girl that doesn’t fall for billionaires. And yet, my desire is all consuming, pushing me to forget the anger, the complications, the reasons we absolutely, most definitely, should not be together.

He is irresistible.

Sexuality oozes from him. It’s in the way he stands, walks, speaks—it practically drips from his mouth when he breathes. My skin tingles with the need to feel his touch, and that reckless, all-encompassing desire is how I justify my actions now.

The elevator swooshes open.

I gather the bottom of my dress in one fist, slip off my heels and carry them in the other hand, tip toeing down the hall after Lucas. He inserts the key card, shoves open the door, and barely steps across the threshold before shrugging out of his jacket. He tosses it on the floor and turns, leveling me with a stare that freezes me in place. His eyes sweep across my skin, and he eyes me like a predator stalking its prey.

He stands back, as if admiring me. “Scrumptious.”

The air around me cools, and my skin prickles, every hair standing upright for his inspection. I’m suddenly self-conscious of the high-rising slit that slices almost to the top of my thigh, the sharp “V” that shows off my contoured cleavage, the open back that dips almost to the base of my spine. My body trembles beneath his gaze, naked and vulnerable.

Lucas reaches out to me. I take his hand, scarcely noticing the opulence of our suite, as he guides me to the King-sized bed, and lays me on the mattress. My heart thumps like a bird trapped in a cage, the fluttering wings against my bones deafening in the otherwise silence. Through the oversized windows, the city lights glitter like the ballroom chandelier below.

“You’ve been on my mind,” he says, so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

My throat swells shut, trapping my response. I’ve missed him too—more than I should. But here with him now, I’m unable to hide behind denial. My want is on display.

He stands at the foot of the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, while behind him a gas fireplace flickers to life. The firelight gives his toned muscles a gleam as if they’ve been chiseled from polished wood, bringing into sharp focus the tattoos that pepper his torso. A devil smirks from above his navel, the faint outline of a horse gallops across his upper chest. Each mark seems intended, purposeful, perhaps designed to mask the constellation of various sized scars that have not yet faded out of sight.

Beneath the heavy fabric of his dress slacks, his thighs are as sturdy as oak branches, and at his crotch, a thick bulge betrays his arousal. I imagine his cock, hard and ready, and my clit throbs with fresh need.

My fingers itch to explore him, but I am merely a puppet, waiting for his manipulation, trapped under the intensity of his stare. His emerald eyes flash as if on fire, burning through to my core.

His nostrils flare as he breathes deep. “Ah, that sweet pussy…” He curls his lips into a sexy smirk. “I bet it’s just as delicious as I remember.”

Gently climbing on to the bed, he straddles my torso, his hand hovering over my breast before finally cupping it in his palm. I hiss through my teeth as his thumb slips under the thin material of my gown and settles against my nipple, as though it’s back to exactly where it belongs.

My hiss becomes a groan as he leans forward, and his teeth pry the dress from my skin to give his warm mouth access. I’d brazenly chosen to go braless, and without its constraints, Lucas is free to touch, lick, suck. He does so with little hesitation. And when his tongue flicks across one perky nipple, my breath hitches.

Almost stops.

“You naughty, naughty girl,” he murmurs, noting the absence of my undergarments. I suck in my stomach as his hand trails down to my thigh. He tugs the dress up toward my waist and touches, softly, the naked mound of my sex. My cheeks go hot at his discovery—I’m not wearing panties either. “You must have known somehow that we’d be together tonight…”

Did I? Perhaps in my self-conscious I understood that if we saw each other, our connection would be too strong to resist. “I’d hoped,” I admit.

His smile widens, impish and knowing. With slow calculation, his fingers strum against my clit. My thighs part, enticing him with my sticky, melting sex. Jesus. What is it about this man that makes me behave so out of character?

I respond to his touch by wriggling closer, desperate for this, for more of this. Please, I beg, unable to voice my need. Touch me. Stroke me.

Fuck me…

As if in tune with my thoughts, Lucas cocks his head, still idly playing with my breast and my clit while watching my face with the curiosity of a scientist. Our chemistry is explosive, addictive.

I want him so much.

Tension builds between my thighs until my head goes so light it seems to float. My brain empties of thought and logic. Excuses and protests disappear. Damn the consequences, I won’t turn from this. Couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I’m trapped under his possessive hold.

Abruptly, Lucas removes his hand, leaving me with the sharp tingle of loss, and stands to unbuckle his belt. He removes his pants and briefs with practiced ease. I take in every inch of his magnificent body, quivering in anticipation.

Coming to me again, he lays over my chest, his muscles hard and smooth against my nipples. I blush as he pushes his groin up against mine, aware that my pussy juices have soaked through the thin material of my dress.

His mouth comes down on me.

The contact of his lips on mine is soft at first, almost ethereal. Then, the kiss grows more frantic. His tongue pushes inside my mouth, bringing with it a taste that is as heady as his scent. My breath hitches. His lips are candy sweet, and his tongue is cool and wicked, darting like a serpent, tasting and probing, then powerfully devouring. The pressure of the kiss becomes so intense, my jaw aches.

Lucas laces his fingers through mine, and he uses his body to caress and excite me. He rubs against the dress, rocking his hips, his cock somehow working between my thighs and spreading my lips to stimulate my clitoris.

Voice muffled by his tongue, I garble out a weak protest, even as my pelvis jerks against his, commanding him to give me more, more, more.

Working swiftly, he slides the straps off my shoulders to fully expose my breasts. Then roughly tugs the bottom of my dress upward, leaving me naked except for the band of material circling my waist. Cool air breezes across my flesh. His cock is hard and huge against my thigh. He shifts, and with just a little help from his hand, navigates his way inside me.

My pussy clenches around him, sucking in his impressive girth. Aroused beyond anything I’ve ever known before, the bulk of his penis almost makes me come without him even moving one inch. I lay trembling beneath him, gasping, panting, begging for him to just hurry up and fuck me. My patience is stretched thin.

And then, with barely a stroke, I am on the brink.

My body clutches at him, clenching and contracting as he begins to move. He thrusts fast and hard and before I know what’s coming over me, I reach my peak, crying out as the convulsions tremor through me, his name on my lips.

And then he’s fucking me and I’m coming again, groaning, losing myself in him as he loses himself in me.