“Cade,” she said, pushing him away. “Listen to me. Please. Just listen.”

“Listening,” he murmured, tugging at the sheet she was holding to her breasts. “Be assured that you have my utmost attention.”

“We can’t be married,” she protested, trying to keep the sheet over her body even as he exposed one nipple and began to tease it with his fingers. A hot flush of need slammed through her body and she had to bite back a moan as he rubbed the underside of her nipple in the way that drove her craziest. “We weren’t even supposed to go out last night. You and me . . . it was only supposed to be one night. Nothing else. No strings, nothing. We weren’t supposed to see each other ever again.”

“But we did see each other again,” he murmured, flicking her aching nipple with a practiced thumb even as he continued to kiss her shoulder. “Also? You are so fucking pretty naked. My cock is aching just looking at you.”

This time, the moan did escape her throat. “Cade, we shouldn’t.”

“Oh, we should. We definitely should.” His fingers coaxed her nipple to a stiff little point, and his other hand eased the rest of the sheet down, until Kylie was topless and covered only by the pooling fabric in her lap. He took her hand again, kissed the palm, and laid it on his cock, thick and hard and aching.

And she sucked in a breath, fascinated by that intimate touch. Her fingers grazed the head of his cock and she was surprised to find it wet with pre-come already. “You’re that turned on?”

“Are you kidding me?” He took her big, heavy breast in his hand and lifted it until her nipple was pointing toward his mouth, and he gave it a long, lascivious lick. “Just seeing you makes me so hard I can barely stand it.”

She moaned again. Her fingers tightened around his cock and she gave him a squeeze as his mouth nipped at her breast. “We need to talk about this marriage—”

“Talk later. Breasts now.”

“But you’re not listening to me,” she said, torn between frustration and desire. “We shouldn’t be married.”

“I see nothing preventing us from the fact,” he murmured. “I want you.” His hand covered hers on his cock. “See how much I want you?” Then, his hand slipped between her rounded thighs and pushed to rest against her pussy. “And I can feel how wet you are for me.” His fingers slid along the damp seam of her. “So tell me that you don’t want me, Kylie? Because I have proof.” He lifted his hand and showed it to her, gleaming with her fluids.

She shook her head, still dazed. “We-we can’t. Cade—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, pressing those damp fingers against her lips. The taste of her own salt hit her tongue, and it was strangely erotic. A gasp escaped her.

“That looks delicious,” he murmured, and leaned in, capturing her mouth with his and then lightly sucking on her lips, cleaning them of her taste. “Mmm.”

“Cade,” she moaned. Oh God, he was driving her to distraction. She couldn’t think when he was kissing her own juices off of her mouth. All she could think about was his hand on her pussy again, or her hand on his cock. And even though it was wrong and she shouldn’t want him to touch her, she positively ached deep inside for him.

“Condoms,” he murmured, kissing her jaw, her neck, and then pulling away reluctantly. “We need condoms.” He leaned over the bed, giving her a gorgeous view of his long, lean, tanned body, and her hand gripping his length as if she were holding on for dear life. He pulled a drawer open on the bedside table and then cursed. “I know I have more condoms around here somewhere.” He sat up and kissed her quickly. “Be right back.”

Then, extracting himself from her grip, he hopped up and headed across the suite to the bathroom, tight ass flexing as he moved.

The moment he left the room, reality set in. What on earth was she doing? They needed to annul this thing and forget it ever happened. The last thing she needed was to have sex with him again. It was supposed to be one freaking night, damn it. She was never going to keep things from Daphne at this rate. She was going to lose her job at this rate.

And . . . then what? Mooch off of Cade? Let him think she was a gold digger? Become his burden?

Her stomach clenched hard at that.

She heard him rummaging in the bathroom. “Just a moment,” he called out. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

Her jeans were pooled by the bed and she grabbed them and slid them on, shoving her feet into her flip-flops. She grabbed her shirt, hauled it overhead, snagged her purse, and ran for the door, closing it quietly behind her.