“You’re already so wet,” he whispered, almost reverent.

He paused, kneeling over her, his dark eyes traveling slowly down her body—breasts rising and falling, the soft dip of her waist, the way her thighs parted just slightly, inviting.

She pulled his shirt over his head as he lowered her onto the cool sheets. Her dress followed, a puddle of coral on the floor.

The salt wind tangled her hair as she leaned against the villa’s balcony rail, watching the sun bleed gold into the horizon. The ocean below was a sheet of violet silk, barely stirring. Inside, their luggage still lay half-unpacked—a tangle of linen shirts and sheer dresses spilling onto the cool tile floor.