“But—”

He guided her down, then pressed her up against the door without turning on a light. “Another time beneath the stars,” he promised. “Tonight, I have plans.”

“Plans?”

“Yes, and they involve making you cry out my name over and over again. And call me selfish, but that…that sound from your lips, Daisy, is for me alone.”

Her bones liquified. But that was okay because Diego had her. He had her against the door, held there by his big body while shutting out the rest of the world. She felt him nibble her throat and had to laugh breathlessly. She was already halfway to crying out his name.

Then his hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers, not a single space between them. His body was deliciously hard. Everywhere.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back from her. Without notice, she was alone. She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see a damn thing, not even a faint outline of him. The only light came from a narrow line of moonlight slanting vertically down the middle of the bed and the floor, ending at her feet. “Diego?”

He stepped into the shaft of moonlight. Wordlessly, he tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

He was gorgeous bathed in the glow, his lean, tough muscles rippling with his every movement, his body reminding her of a sleek, powerful cat. A wild one.

She heard the dull thud of his boots hitting the floor. The rest of his clothes followed, and he turned to her, making her swallow hard.

Mine, she thought.

“Now you,” he said. But before Daisy could, he came to her and turned her away from him, placing her hands on the wall. He slowly unzipped her dress, nudging it off her shoulders and past her hips before leaning his body into hers and pressing his mouth to her shoulder. Her bra fell away like magic as he kissed and nibbled his way to the crook of her neck, the column of her throat, and then he was at her ear. “I can’t wait to be inside you again,” he said. “The way you pant my name drives me insane.”

It was a good thing he was holding her up. But then he wasn’t. He’d dropped to his knees to unzip and pull off her boots. Then her tights. When his fingers hooked in her undies, she made a sound, and then another when he slid them down.

“I…can’t stand,” she managed.

Far more adaptable in any given situation than she was, he rose to his feet and took her with him to the bed. She hit the mattress on her back, and he followed her down. Their gazes met and locked, and in his eyes, she saw the things that hopes and dreams were made of. Her heart rate spiked. Feeling emotionally exposed, she actually tried to look away until she realized that the vulnerability she saw reflected back wasn’t hers, but his.