We tumble into the room as one. The lights are off, but the moonlight drifts in through the open blinds. The white duvet on the bed glows almost blue. As soon as the door swings shut behind us, I turn to face Wes.

In the dim light, his eyes are dark, but they bore into me. His expression is serious, his mouth set in a determined line. His eyes rake over my body and I shiver. That makes his lips quirk up into a smile.

“Come here.” His voice comes out as a growl, and I feel no choice but to obey. My body moves towards him, my feet shuffling over the patterned carpet. He loops his arms around my waist as soon as I’m close enough and pulls me the rest of the way. The suddenness of it makes me stumble and I fall against his chest, giggling. But my laugh is silenced as soon as I look up at the expression on his face. My smile falls away and I swallow. Hard.

Wes leans his head in and my lips part automatically. His kiss makes my toes curl, the same way it always does. The way it always has. It’s sensual and powerful and all-consuming. I lean into it, the way I always do. The way I always have.

His body against mine is warm and solid, and we move easily towards the bed. Our lips never lose contact. Our hands roam each other’s bodies like explorers in a foreign country. My skin is already on fire, my nipples on full alert, my pussy beginning to pulse and clench.

Wes’s hands move to my back and tug gently at the zipper on my dress. He drags it down so slowly, I swear I can hear every individual tooth as it pulls apart. The zipper ends just below my waist, and once it’s undone, the fabric slips easily from my body. I let it pool on the floor around me.

Wes runs his hands over my now-bare shoulders, skimming them over my collarbone, the rise of my breasts, my shoulder blades. His brow is furrowed in concentration. It’s as if he’s trying to memorize every part of my body, every inch of my skin.

“God, Rori, could you be any more perfect?” His eyes take in my strapless bra, my tiny thong, my high heels. Goosebumps speckle my arms, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Instead of answering, I tug at his tie, pulling him closer to me, finding his lips with mine again. He walks me backwards until my knees hit the back of the bed, and then I tumble backwards, pulling him down with me. He holds himself carefully above me, his weight pressing into me but not too much. His hands never stop roaming my body.

My fingers shake as I try to undo his shirt. I don’t know why I feel so nervous. It’s not like this is the first time Wes and I have found ourselves in this position. But maybe it’s because it’s the first time it’s felt real.

My feelings for Wes have never really gone away, not even with all those years and distance between us. Despite everything that has changed, he’s still, in so many ways, the same sweet, sexy guy he was back then. At least in the ways that matter.

Despite all my best intentions, despite all my misgivings, I’m falling in love with Wes. Again. Still. Maybe I never fell out of love with him.

I push those thoughts away and try to focus on the moment. Which isn’t hard, given the way that Wes’s hands are now caressing my breasts. I let out a moan that makes his eyes glint.

“You can’t do that, Rori,” he growls. “Because when you do that, you make me lose all control.”

I shiver at his words. But only because I feel the same way. Being with Wes, from the first moment he walked into my office that day, has made me feel completely out of control. Like my body — and my heart — have been completely taken over by someone else.

“I want this, Wes,” I whisper. “I want you.”

He growls again, and then his lips are on my throat, my collarbone, my chest. He moves lower, running his tongue over the rise of my breasts before pushing my strapless bra down and out of his way. He groans as my breasts spring free, and then runs his tongue over those too, lavishing his attention on one nipple and then the other. My back arches involuntarily, pushing my breasts closer to his face, begging him to devour me.

And he does. His mouth and hands seem to be everywhere, touching every inch of my skin, every corner and crevice of my body. Even my mind seems to belong to him, because I can’t think or see or feel anything but Wes.

His fingers trail down my stomach and then lower, over my mound. Even through the lacy fabric of my thong, his fingers drive me crazy. He presses into me, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit while his fingers reach lower.

I whimper. His touch makes me insane. But I want more of him. I arc my hips against his hand, trying to drive him deeper.

Instead, he takes his hand away.

I moan again. “Wes...”

He grins. “Yes?”

I cover my face with my hands and groan, which only makes Wes chuckle. But instead of arguing with me, he moves his head lower. I feel a gentle tug on my thong, and then I realize he’s got his teeth on the hem of it. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he uses his teeth to pull the panties down over my hips. I lift my ass just enough to let him maneuver, but he seems surprisingly deft. He gets it all the way down to my thighs before he uses his hands to push the fabric the rest of the way down.

My heart races as Wes nudges my knees apart. My head falls backwards. Even though I want to watch what he’s doing, the anticipation is too intense. My legs are already shaking, and even though I can’t see him, I can feel the heat of his body, of his breath, as he lowers his head between my thighs.

The second his tongue finds my clit, an arc of electricity shoots through my body. I feel like I’ve been zapped with something, and my entire body pulses and buzzes with the aftereffects.

Wes knows just what to do with his tongue. He strokes my folds, my crest, my swollen nub, moving between all three with finesse. I squirm underneath him, but he holds me in place. His hands seem to be everywhere at once, caressing the soft skin between my thighs, holding my hips, spreading my knees. My chest heaves as I struggle to breathe against the crushing tide of my mounting desire.

Wes seems oblivious to the fact that I’m practically dying here. He licks and sucks with abandon, teasing me one minute with the softest of kisses, and then nipping at my flesh with his teeth. An ache so good it hurts.

I clutch the white hotel duvet as hard as I can and try to focus on not screaming so loud the entire wedding party twenty-one floors down can hear me. But the climax rushes at me like a river, taking me away with it, washing everything away.

“Wes,” I manage to pant, but then I’m gone. Everything in my body clenches, tremors, arches. I make a sound that’s like something between a sigh and a scream. Wes doesn’t let up until my entire body is trembling, shaking under his hands, his lips. Only then does he sit up, a satisfied — and slightly smug — smile on his face.

“You have no idea how much time I’ve spent thinking about that today,” he says.

“Remind me to repay the favor some day,” I say weakly. I’m still quivering.

“Oh, I will,” he grins. “But not now. Right now I want to be inside you. Do you want that, Rori?”

I breathe in and nod. Wes is already undoing his belt, shoving the pants of his suit down over his hips. I gasp when his cock springs free. It’s fully hard already, jutting out from his body and bobbing heavily. It’s pink and veiny and perfect. I lick my lips and Wes notices.

“See something you like, Miss Holloway?”

I nod. “Oh yes.”

“Good.”

He fishes in the pocket of his pants for a small foil packet before tossing them to the floor. He rips it open with his teeth and sheaths himself. I brace myself as he positions himself over me, then run my palms over his shoulders, the flat planes of his chest. I wait for him to push into me, but instead he holds himself there. I look up and find him studying me intently.

“What?” I trace my fingers over the line of his jaw.

He shakes his head, as if coming out of a trance. “Nothing.”

He moves his body over me, letting his cock rub against the folds of my pussy. Coating himself in my wetness. Just that much closeness makes me tremble again, my pussy already clenching in anticipation.

“Now, Wes,” I groan. “I need you.”

And finally, blissfully, he sinks into me. It’s the same stretching feeling as the other times, the same feeling of exquisite fullness, but this time there’s something more to it. A feeling of completion. Of wholeness. Like my body belongs to Wes. Like it always has.

Almost as if he feels it too, Wes gazes down at me. His hips move slowly. None of the franticness of our other encounters. This is pure bliss. Deliberate, focused, intense. Every stroke feels like it pierces straight through my body, all the way to my heart, my soul. I cling to his shoulders as we move together. Our bodies drip sweat, our breath comes in short pants, and still we rock together. I can smell Wes’s cologne, and the musky wet scent of our sex. I lick a bead of sweat off his shoulder.

Wes groans, his thrusts picking up in speed and intensity. All I can do is hold onto him, let myself be carried away by this moment.

“Oh, God, Wes...” I moan. My voice trails off. I can’t speak. Can’t form words. I lean into the feeling, clenching my body around him.

The orgasm explodes through me. I clutch his shoulders and pull him as close to me as I can. He thrusts his hips harder, taking me higher, pushing me further.

I can tell the exact moment he lets go. An expression comes over his face, something like awe and ecstasy, and then he slows his thrusts, burying himself as deep as he can inside me. His shoulders shake and another bead of sweat appears on his forehead. I want to lick that one off too.

When it’s over, he collapses on top of me, planting a kiss on my collarbone. I wrap my arms around him, wanting to keep the feeling of closeness a little while longer. But soon, he rolls over, onto the cool and empty swath of bed beside me. I feel an ache as soon as his skin is no longer against mine. I sneak a glance over at him, but he seems to be a hundred miles away.

My heart doesn’t lift again until he winks at me and pats his chest, holding out his arm for me to curl up into.

“Come on over here, Roar,” he says.

And I do.