Beside a private lagoon, on a secluded islet off the southeast coast of Bora Bora, two bodies moved together and apart, together and apart…writhing, twisting, exploding in passion on the fine, warm sand. He was reminded again of how radiant her silken brown skin looked in white, especially in the soft light of the moon. Desperate for her, he'd tugged the strings of her bikini bottoms loose, pulled down the triangles of her top, and ravaged her right there on the beach.

Their need was often so intense, the pleasure so consuming, they couldn't speak. All they could do was press themselves together, try to submerge themselves in each other, swallowing down every cry, every moan.

But tonight was different. Special. Tonight, their connection was so penetrating, it overpowered even sensation, and they found the will to communicate anyway as they stared, lost, into each other's eyes.

Her back arched, pushing her soft breasts into his chest, her thighs tensing around him. "Oh God, please! F-fill me…fill me up, Fitz."

He was on his knees between her quivering thighs, swiveling his hips with solid sureness, hitting her sweet spot over and over…and over. One hand cradled the smooth, curving plane of her lower back, angling her just right. It was his favorite place, so beautiful and precious...so sexy. His other hand was a gentle vise on her neck, a show of dominance that made her eyes cavernous with lust.

"That's it, Livvie. Feel me. Feel how much I love you, how much I've always loved you."

And then he claimed her mouth with his and showed her with his body…with each quietly desperate thrust, with every deep, shuddering murmur of her name.

"Livvie…"

He took a final plunge, gasping, paralyzed with pleasure as she tightened around him, squeezing the milk of his love until she'd taken every drop…until it filled her up and warmed her through, and the air off the water cooled her sweat-dampened skin.

Later, they sunk into the downy softness of their bed, wrapped up in white sheets, his arms snug about her. The gossamer curtains of their overwater bungalow danced in the constant breeze off the lagoon, the moonlight painting their private heaven blue.

"You say the sweetest things when you're inside me," Olivia said, fingering the mess of curls at his forehead. Then her eyes gleamed. "And some of the dirtiest."

He grinned, his ears still burning red. "I mean every word of it. Especially now."

"Now that we're..."

"Married."

"Married." She said it with awe, as if the word was foreign to her before that very moment. Her brow creased with her tiny frown.

"What is it?" He caressed her spine absentmindedly, his touch so light it made her shiver, but she couldn't move otherwise. She was completely sated and boneless.

"'Feel my love,'" she said softly. "You've never said that to me before. At least, I don't think so. I think—I know—I'd remember. I remember everything you say to me…" She dropped her hand from his brow, letting it rest on the pillow above her head. "What made you say it tonight?"

His sandy brows lifted, widening his expressive blue eyes. "I don't know. We've been intimate so many times, so many ways over the years…But even when we hated each other, there was love underneath it. I don't know any other way to make love to you than to…make love. Long before I ever touched you, I loved you."

She shivered again. Not from lust, or from the cooler air of night, but from the depth of emotion that made his voice impossibly deep, his words the truest she'd ever heard. She felt her face heat, a faint sting in her eyes, the tickle of wetness down her cheeks. "Me too."

They kissed until they were exhausted, passing out in each other's arms.


Olivia giggled and squirmed, trying to escape the manacles around her body. "Fitz!"

"Hmm?" Her hair was loose and wild from the few hours he'd let her sleep, the soft curls tickling his nostrils as he breathed in the scented mass.

"You're suffocating me. Can't breathe."

"Quiet, Livvie. I'm having a moment."

She giggled again, twisting around to face him. "A moment?"

He couldn't help nuzzling her newly exposed neck, kissing along the delicate column to her naked chest.

"Fitz!"

He raised his head, his eyes playful and soulful at the same time. "It makes me sick to think of how many times I almost lost you. Now that we're at this place, I have to keep reminding myself it's real. You're real. This…" he lifted her ringed finger to his lips for a kiss "…is real."

Olivia sobered a moment, quietly listening to him breathe. The constant, steady flow of his breaths assured her that he was real, too...that he wasn't a dream.

"Livvie?"

"It made me sick too," she whispered. "I can't remember ever seriously thinking about marriage until I met you. It just wasn't on my radar. And then I met you and I couldn't think of anything else. I envied the woman who was your wife. I envied Mellie…"

"Sssshhh." He kissed her forehead. "You never had any reason to envy her. None."

"No, I know. I know it's stupid. I never envied your relationship, just the title. The sense of belonging-that you were hers. I never thought you'd be mine."

His expression softened with compassion. With love. "I was yours the second I laid eyes on you. And you were mine. Just took you longer to admit it."


Their honeymoon went by like a dream. The little isle was the center of their universe, the turquoise water of the lagoon neon-lit by tropical fish and endless coral reefs. When they finished chasing manta rays and gorging themselves on decadent food, Fitz would stare at his naked wife as she stood in the open window of their bungalow each evening. And then he would feast with his hands, his mouth, his body…his soul…

...She knew he was close, felt him swell inside her, the head of his sex hitting her G spot over and over. Her back bowed, filling his palms with her breasts, pushing him further into her slick warmth until he grunted her name.

His fingers dug into her soft flesh, sending pleasure that was close to pain searing through her body. Her eyes squeezed shut, sparks of red and blue firing behind her eyes before her world went dark for seconds on blissful seconds.

"I want to die like this. Someday," she moaned when they pulled apart. Her body was still trembling, her breaths loud in the otherwise still air.

Fitz laughed. "Well, we're going to be married for a very long time."

"How long?"

"Til I'm so old and wrinkly, you won't want me to do this anymore." He smoothed his hand down her tummy, dipping his middle finger into her belly button, chuckling as she jerked against him…and down, over her soft, trim hairs, sinking two fingers into her still-quivering heat.

Olivia moaned helplessly, clamping her thighs around his wicked hand. "Then I want to die before that."

"Stop it, Livvie. No more talk of dying," he murmured, stroking her again.

She whimpered and clutched his arms, her fingers digging into the well-defined muscles there. He worked her over, never stopping, until a weak cry left her throat, and she pulsed against his fingers, wetting his knuckles.

"Starting now, there's only life," he whispered into her neck, licking her there, sucking her chin. He pressed the flat of his palm against her and she sobbed, convulsing against him, pulling and squeezing his fingers inside of her. He grinned when she finally stilled, falling back onto her pillow, weak. "And many, many little deaths."