We reached our floor and stumbled toward our room, kissing our way down the hallway. Josh pinned me against the door while he fumbled with our room key, and I took the opportunity to set my mouth to his neck, breathing in his freshly showered scent and a hint of sandalwood. He cursed at the lock as I ran my hands under his shirt, my fingers playing along the lines of his washboard abs, exploring the ridges as if I didn’t know them by heart.

Josh wound his arm around my back so I didn’t fall when the door opened, then lifted me off the ground to carry me through. I turned all of my attention to his mouth, his incredibly soft lips and wicked tongue, kissing him as the door shut behind us. We moved through the suite until we reached the bedroom.

The sunset lit the room with a perfect glow as he lowered me to sit on the bed. I immediately raised his shirt and licked the incredibly sexy fuck-me lines that ran along the edges of his abs to disappear into his jeans.

There were times I could still barely believe that he was mine, that I had the right to kiss him, touch him, make love to him. He was an addiction that I was only too happy to have. Even after being together for years, I couldn’t keep my hands off him, couldn’t get enough.

These next nine months were going to be torture.

The thought made me pause. I looked up at him as his hands wound through my hair. What if something happened to him? What if this was about to be one of the last times I ever had him? I let out a shaky exhale and tried to swallow back the fear that had instantly paralyzed me.

“December?” he asked, his voice low.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He sank down in front of me and framed my face with his hands. “You will never lose me. It’s impossible. I’m coming home to you. I’m going to marry you.”

I couldn’t stop my lower lip from trembling. How had this month gone by so fast? How were we down to just a few nights together?

“Say it,” he ordered. “Say it out loud.”

“You’re coming home,” I said, willing the words to be true. “We’re getting married.”

“Damn right we are.” He surged up, lifting me by my waist and moving me to the center of the bed before settling his weight over me. He ripped his shirt over his head and threw it to the side, then waited for me to raise my arms so he could do the same for me.

My bra met my shirt on the floor, and then I was skin-to-skin with Josh, letting him warm me even to the depths of my fear.

“I’m going to wipe away every thought from that gorgeous brain of yours. Until we leave this hotel room, your only concern should be about how many orgasms I can wring out of you before we need to order more food. Understand?”

His eyes bored into mine, waiting for my response.

I shoved my fear, my worry, my sadness into a tiny, iron-clad box and then tucked it away in the furthest recesses of my head. There was no way I was letting those emotions cloud my last few days with him.

My hands gripped his ass, and I rolled my hips against his erection. His eyes flared. “Let’s see how many you have in you,” I challenged.

A cocky grin lit his face, and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. I arched up and sucked his tongue into my mouth. If he was taking my thoughts, then I was consuming his. It was only fair.

I sent my hand under his jeans and into his boxers, running it over the smooth, warm skin of his hip and thigh, until I palmed his hardness and squeezed gently.

“Fuuuuuck,” he growled against my mouth, his breath hitting me in short pants.

As he slid down my body, my hand fell away from him, instantly feeling bereft. Then his lips surrounded the peak of my breast, his tongue laving my hardened nipple, and my hands rose to hold his head instead. He was true to his word in the elevator, licking a path to my other breast, then down the dips and hollow of my stomach.

My jeans came off easily, and Josh breathed through the blue lace of my panties, making my hips buck against him before he drew those down my legs, leaving me bare.

“Yours, too,” I ordered, needing him just as naked, just as exposed. Everything about me felt raw, on edge, my emotions so big, so conflicting that I wasn’t sure anything besides Josh made any sense.

His tattoos rippled as he removed the rest of his clothes, each line of ink reminding me that under his love-tamed exterior, there was the barely restrained bad boy who always surfaced when unleashed in our bedroom.

He never looked away, letting me see the need behind those gorgeous eyes, his undeniable desire for me. Then he leaned forward, parted me with his fingers, and licked me. My eyes fluttered shut, and a moan tumbled free. “I’ve wanted to do that all fucking day,” he said. He knew every line of my body, exactly where to lick, how hard to suck to bring me to the edge. Josh played my body like an instrument, plucking at my nipples, humming at my clit while my head thrashed on the pillow.

“Josh…”

“December?” He gave me another long lick.

“I want you.” My fingers sank into his short hair.

“You have me,” he promised, pausing to suck at my clit. My muscles were locking, tension building through my entire body as he continued, the pleasure so deep I swore I could taste it on my tongue. “I need to see you come apart.”

He didn’t have to wait long. My back bowed as he sucked at me again, my orgasm ripping through me with a searing heat and leaving me limp with tiny aftershocks.

He moved over me, settling between my thighs. I felt him hard at my entrance and lifted my hips. “Josh,” I urged.