“Are we in a hotel?”

“Shh,” he whispered, lips to my temple. “We’re almost there.”

He carried me as if I weighed nothing, his strides even and steady. I pressed my lips to his neck and asked, “Is everyone looking at us?”

He turned his head, laughing quietly in my ear. “Definitely.”

Once we stepped into the elevator, it smelled familiar. Was it possible we were back at the Hotel Del and he had just done an elaborate ruse to trick me? But if he did, why?

We rode up in silence and I adjusted my grip on his neck, trying to listen to the number of floors we passed, to any sign of where we were. Beneath my knees, his left hand squeezed me reassuringly.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, but Bennett didn’t move. I realized there’d been someone else in there with us. How had it been for them, I wondered, to be watching us as we went up to wherever our final destination was, knowing we were clearly headed to our wedding night?

When we reached another floor, Bennett stepped out and carried me down what felt like the longest hallway ever.

“I want you inside me,” I said into the warm skin of his neck.

“Soon.”

“You won’t make me wait?”

“I only want to get you there and naked. The plan beyond that is pretty self-explanatory.”

Something about the walk felt familiar, some turn and body position, and suddenly it hit me.

Of course.

Of course.

He came to a stop, maneuvered so he could pull a key from his pocket, and opened the door.

I didn’t even have to take off my blindfold to know.

Carefully, he put me down and I reached up, slipping the satin up and off my face. Yes. It was the room we’d stayed in at the W more than two years ago—the exact one. The same couch, the same bed, the same balcony, the same small kitchenette. Although, now it had a new, no-longer-broken desk.

The room where we first knew—really knew—that I was his and he was mine.

I could feel Bennett watching me, gauging my reaction, but I’d been so overwhelmed with emotion all week that I felt a little numb, almost as if on top of the family around us, the wedding, the vows, and how much I needed to feel him, my mind clamped shut and I started to feel dizzy.

He stepped behind me, kissing my neck. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We never did lose what we found in this room,” he said, bending now and kissing my shoulder. “In fact, we turned it into the happiest hate-love of all time.”

“We sure did.” I turned to look at him, wondering if now was when he tore my dress off and fucked me facedown on the floor.

But his eyes were clear, careful. He stepped closer, bent to kiss my jaw. “You smell so fucking good.”

“What’s going on? I thought you were going to be rowdy.”

“Fucking your mouth in the car helped take the edge off.”

I closed my eyes, feeling memories storm into my thoughts.

“I’ve never done anything close to this and I don’t know how to navigate it anymore,” I’d said.

“I told you. I haven’t been with anyone else since we started this,” he’d said.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t take a room key if it’s put in your hand.”

“Let’s call a truce for one night. I just need tonight,” he’d pled, and given me three desperate kisses.

I opened my eyes. “How much of the first night in here are we going to re-create?”

He shrugged and when he smiled, he looked so young, almost innocent. “I think we’ll skip the fight in the bathroom, but I definitely hope you wake me up with your mouth on my cock.” He leaned forward, kissing me once and then pulling back to study my face. “Honestly, Chlo, I just want you out of this dress. I feel like we haven’t been skin to skin in months.”

I nodded without speaking, still overwhelmed and exhaling in relief when Bennett’s broad hands slid across my bare back, unbuttoning and pushing my dress down my sides, holding it up just enough for me to step out of the skirts. I turned back around to face him, wearing only a tiny strapless bra and the smallest thong I think I’d ever worn in my life.

Without a word, he reached for me with lightning-quick hands and shredded the panties, and then reached up to my chest, gripped my bra in one hand, and savagely tore it from my body. Reflexively, I crossed my arms in front of me, my pulse hammering.

“You had other things you were going to put on for me tonight?” he asked, nodding to the bag he’d dropped in the entryway.

“I did . . .”

He was already shaking his head. “You won’t need them. Maybe in the morning, but not right now.”

Bennett kissed my shoulder, running rough, impatient hands over my breasts, my hips, my thighs. “Undress me now.”

It was suddenly surreal to be standing bare before him like this. He’d seen me naked thousands of times, and God knows he’d bossed me around like this even more often. But this moment felt so loaded. It wasn’t the easy instinctual sex we had every night. This was Bennett, undressing me and demanding to be similarly stripped so we could have Married Sex in a Fancy Bed in an Emotionally Relevant Room.

The words wedding night, wedding night, wedding night pounded through my head. Maybe this is exactly what he felt in the limo: the pressure of doing it right, making it memorable.

I tried to ignore the way my hand shook when I pulled at his tie and slid it from his collar, but he noticed and he grabbed both of my wrists in one hand. The other slid down my front and between my legs, parting me, sliding a long finger over my clit and dipping into where I was wettest.

“Why are you shaking, Mrs. Ryan?”

With a flash of irritation, I bit his bottom lip when he leaned closer for a kiss. But then I closed my eyes, enjoying for a few moments the way he slid his finger back and forth over the rise of my clit before he stopped, patiently waiting for an answer.

“I’m a little nervous, Mr. Mills,” I admitted.

His eyes went wide, nostrils flaring as he released my hands from his grip. “You? You’re nervous?” He looked like he was on the verge of yelling or laughing, I wasn’t sure which. “You’re nervous with me?”

Shrugging, I said, “It’s just—”

“You’re nervous?” His tone had changed this time; amusement curled through the two, short words. He was definitely on the verge of laughing.

I removed his cuff links, dropping them on the carpet at our feet. “Are you making fun of me?”

He shook his head slowly, but with a devilish smile said, “Yes.”

Taking his shirt in my fists, I pulled it open, hearing the pop of the buttons as they tore free and skittered to the floor. “You’re making fun of your bride on her wedding night?”

His expression straightened and his brow smoothed as I ran my greedy hand down his chest. “Of course I am.”

“What kind of monster are you?” I teased, lightly scratching his stomach.

His answering smile tilted up one half of his perfect mouth. “The kind that’s going to fuck you so hard it’ll look like your legs were put on backwards.”

I laughed, playfully shoving him, and he fought his own smile before bending to kiss me roughly, pressing his tongue into my mouth, sucking, and biting at my lips. “Come on, Chlo. I think we both know I’m pretty easy,” he murmured. “Tend to my cock and the night is a success.”

I ran my hands down his torso, feeling every dip and hard ridge, and shivering when he bent and sucked my jaw, growling into my neck. I pressed into him, loving the feel of his hungry hands down my back, grabbing my ass.

“Get over your ridiculous nerves and fucking undress me,” he hissed, kicking off his shoes and bending to peel off his socks.

I gave his zipper an impatient tug and pushed his dress pants and boxers down to the floor. With his hands on my waist, Bennett backed me to the bed. And then he kneeled in front of me, bracing his hands on my hips and leaning forward to kiss my navel. His wedding ring winked in the dim light of the bathroom.

“We’re married,” he said quietly, pressing another kiss to my belly button. “I’m your safe place. I’ve always been your safe place.”

I slid my hands into his hair, pulling gently and knowing he was right. I’d been my best and worst self with this man, and he only loved me more the more real I was with him. No place was safer for me than with Bennett.

He moved his mouth from one hip to the other, up my ribs, tongue sweeping over my breasts, teeth pulling gently at their peaks. And then he rose to his feet as he kissed up my neck until he towered in front of me, hair hanging over his brow, eyes dark and predatory.

“How many times have we been together like this?”

I shrugged. “Maybe a million?”

“Are you still nervous?” he asked quietly, lifting my left hand and kissing my wedding ring.

I watched his tongue dart out, licking my finger, and whispered, “Not anymore.”

His expression grew serious. “Are you happy we did this?”

Nodding, I managed a hoarse “I’m giddy.” He bent, kissing me, and I said into his smiling mouth, “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“ ‘You think?’ ” Reaching up, he pressed both hands to my face, sliding a thumb inside my mouth. His lips twisted into a dark, teasing smile. “ ‘You think?’ ”

I nodded, pressing my teeth into his knuckle.

“Suck it,” he growled, and then shivered when I wrapped my lips around him, circling him with my tongue.