The air on the terrace was thick with the scent of jasmine and salt, a heady perfume that did nothing to calm the storm raging inside Elara. Below, the Aegean Sea was a sheet of hammered bronze, the setting sun bleeding its last light across the water. It was postcard-perfect, a view she’d dreamed of for months. And she was sharing it with the one person on earth she shouldn’t be.
Her best friend’s brother, Kaelen.
He stood at the far end of the stone balustrade, his back to her, a glass of amber liquid dangling from his fingers. The white linen shirt he wore was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the tanned column of his throat and the hint of dark hair dusting his chest. He was a force of nature, all broad shoulders and lean, coiled muscle, a stark contrast to his sister, Lily, who was all soft curves and bubbly laughter. Elara had known him for a decade, had watched him move through life with a quiet, brooding intensity that both intrigued and unnerved her. He was the unattainable. The forbidden. The man her best friend had explicitly warned her about, laughing as she’d said, “Don’t fall for my brother, El. He’s a heartbreak waiting to happen.”
Too late.
The thought was a sharp, painful throb behind her ribs. It had happened so gradually, then all at once. A look held a second too long across a crowded dinner table. A shared, wry smile when Lily’s latest boyfriend made a fool of himself. The way his gaze would find hers in a room, a silent, steady anchor that made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. And now, here they were, on a Greek island paradise, a million miles from their normal lives, and the tension between them was a living, breathing thing.
Lily had flown back to Athens for a “work emergency”—a flimsy excuse if Elara had ever heard one, likely concocted to give a lingering ex-boyfriend the slip. She’d left them alone in the sprawling, whitewashed villa with a wink and a breezy, “Don’t burn the place down.”
The silence stretched, punctuated by the distant cry of gulls and the soft lap of waves against the rocks below. Elara clutched her own wine glass, the cool condensation slick against her palm. She should go inside. She should retreat to her room, pack her bags, and invent a family emergency of her own. Anything to escape the magnetic pull of him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Kaelen said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the stone beneath her feet. He didn’t turn around.
“I’m just… enjoying the view,” she managed, her voice a little too high.
He finally turned, and the full force of his attention hit her. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, were intense, searching. They swept over her, from the messy bun of her dark hair to the simple sundress that clung to her hips. She felt it like a physical touch, a slow, deliberate caress that left a trail of heat in its wake. Her breath hitched.
“It is a beautiful view,” he agreed, but his eyes never left her face.
He took a slow step closer, then another, the soft scuff of his leather sandals on the stone an agonizingly slow countdown. The space between them shrank, the air growing thick, charged. She could smell him now—the clean, masculine scent of his soap, mixed with the oaky warmth of his whiskey and the faint, wild tang of the sea. It was intoxicating.
“Kaelen,” she whispered, a plea and a warning tangled together.
He stopped an arm’s length away, close enough that she could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, the dark shadow of stubble along his jaw. He was so beautiful it hurt. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was feather-light, yet it sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. Her skin prickled, her nipples tightening against the thin cotton of her dress.
“We shouldn’t,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She was thinking of Lily, of their friendship, of the tangled, messy fallout that would surely follow.
“I know,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “Tell me to stop, Elara. Tell me to walk away, and I will.”
His gaze was a question, a challenge. He was giving her an out, one she knew she should take. But her body was a traitor, leaning into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. The war between her head and her heart was a silent, brutal thing. Lily’s face flashed in her mind, followed by the image of Kaelen’s hands on her skin, his mouth on hers. The latter was a far more potent image.
She opened her eyes. “I can’t.”
The words hung in the air, a surrender. A smile touched his lips, a rare, genuine thing that transformed his stern features. It was a smile she’d only ever seen glimpses of, and it was aimed directly at her. It was devastating.
He closed the remaining distance, his hand sliding from her jaw to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. His other hand found her waist, pulling her flush against the hard plane of his body. She could feel the solid heat of him, the evidence of his own arousal pressing against her stomach. A gasp escaped her lips.
“You have no idea,” he breathed, his voice a ragged whisper against her mouth, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
His lips met hers, and it wasn’t a gentle, questioning kiss. It was a claiming. It was all the suppressed longing, the stolen glances, the unspoken words, crashing over them in a wave of raw, consuming need. He tasted of whiskey and something uniquely, devastatingly him—a flavor of salt and man. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding, exploring, while his hand tightened in her hair, tilting her head back to give him better access.
Elara melted against him, her hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, her fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath. Her wine glass slipped from her grasp, shattering on the stone floor with a sharp, distant sound that neither of them registered. All that existed was the hot, wet slide of their tongues, the frantic exploration of hands over clothed bodies.
He walked her backward until her back hit the warm stone wall of the villa. The rough texture was a jolt against her bare shoulders, a grounding sensation in the dizzying whirlwind of her senses. His mouth left hers, trailing a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin where her pulse beat a frantic rhythm. She moaned, a low, throaty sound, her head falling back against the wall.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped against her collarbone, his hands moving from her waist to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed over the hard peaks of her nipples, the friction of the thin cotton sending a shockwave of pleasure through her.
She arched into him, a desperate, needy movement. “Kaelen, please.”
“Tell me what you want,” he commanded softly, his lips hovering just above hers. “I want to hear you say it.”
“You,” she gasped, her mind a hazy blur of desire. “I want you. All of you.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. In one swift motion, he scooped her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively. He carried her through the open French doors and into the villa, his steps sure and confident. The interior was cool and shadowed, a stark contrast to the fiery heat of the terrace. He didn’t stop until they were in the master bedroom, a high-ceilinged room dominated by a massive, canopied bed draped in white mosquito netting.
He laid her down on the cool, crisp sheets. The world tilted, and then he was over her, his body a wall of heat and muscle, caging her in. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with a hunger that mirrored her own. The last vestiges of reason, the nagging thoughts of Lily and consequences, were burned away in the inferno of his gaze.
“Are you sure?” he asked, one last, hoarse question. His hand rested on the hem of her dress, a silent question. It was the final checkpoint before the point of no return.
Her answer was to reach down and cover his hand with hers, pushing it higher, under the fabric, onto the smooth, bare skin of her thigh. Her skin was feverish, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.
That was all the permission he needed. He pushed the dress up over her hips, then her stomach, pulling it over her head in a single, fluid motion. She was left in only her simple lace panties, the cool air on her overheated skin making her shiver. His gaze was a physical weight, a slow, appreciative perusal that left her feeling both exposed and incredibly powerful.
He lowered his head, his lips finding the hollow of her throat, then moving lower, pressing a kiss to her sternum. His mouth was hot and demanding as he took one of her breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taut nipple. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as he sucked and laved, his other hand giving the same attention to her other breast. The pleasure was sharp, almost painful, shooting straight down to the ache between her legs.
His mouth continued its journey south, leaving a trail of fire across her stomach. He hooked his fingers into the lacy band of her panties and slid them down her legs, tossing them aside. She was completely bare to him now, her skin flushed, her body trembling with anticipation.
He knelt between her legs, his hands on her thighs, gently parting them. The intimacy of it, the raw vulnerability, made her breath catch. But there was no shyness in his eyes, only a deep, reverent hunger.
He lowered his head, and the first touch of his tongue against her slick, sensitive flesh ripped a sob from her throat. He was relentless, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles around her clit, then dipping lower to taste her essence. He teased and tormented, bringing her to the edge and then backing off, his fingers joining the assault, sliding inside her, stretching her, filling her while his mouth continued its exquisite torture.
She was climbing, climbing, her hands fisting in the sheets, her hips bucking against his face. The world had narrowed to the hot, wet pressure of his mouth, the relentless rhythm of his fingers. Moans and whimpers tumbled from her lips, a litany of his name, of pleas for more.
“Oh god, Kaelen… please… don’t stop…”
He growled against her, the vibration pushing her higher. He increased the pace, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers curling inside her to stroke a spot that made her see stars. The climax crashed over her like a tidal wave, a cataclysm of pure, unadulterated pleasure that ripped a scream from her lungs. She shattered, her body convulsing, her vision going white as the world dissolved into sensation.
When she came back to herself, she was limp, breathing in ragged gasps. Kaelen was kissing his way back up her body, his lips leaving a trail of damp heat. He reached over to the bedside table, his movements efficient as he sheathed himself.
He positioned himself at her entrance,
