Lewis Sheridan is kissing me, and it turns out that little "show kiss" from last night couldn't be further removed from the real thing.

All control has gone out of the window for a start - on both of our parts. Our lips surrender to each other, while our tongues desperately battle for supremacy; and his hands roam frantically over my body, as if trying to find the perfect position to relocate to. We're both breathing hard, and I can hear his heart thudding against his chest. Or maybe it's my heart I'm hearing? At this point, we're pressed so tightly together that I'm not really sure where I end, and he begins.

"Bedroom?" Lewis suggests. At least, I think that's what he says; his query is muffled against my mouth. I mumble something incoherent in response, unwilling to stop this kiss either. Like I told him before, it's been a long time for me . . . And this feels so damn good!

I'm slightly mortified to find myself whimpering when he pulls away, and his husky laugh is wicked. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather make it to the bed without hurting myself en route," he tells me. And then he actually picks me up and carries me back up the steps to the bedroom.

"Neanderthal," I mutter as he deposits me on the mattress, but I know I'm smiling.

"You know you love it," he smirks in response. He lies down beside me, turning to face me, and his expression becomes serious. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, one hand cupping my cheek as he stares into my eyes. I nod. "And it's just a one-off . . . right?"

"That's all it can ever be," I reply firmly, reassuringly. There's no way we could be anything more. Even if I am currently melting under his touch.

He swallows, his eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of seconds. Then his gaze is penetrating me again. "Okay," he says softly. "Okay." And he presses his lips to mine once more, gently this time, with none of the desperation of the previous kiss. It's slow and sensual, and it feels like he intends to savour every minute. It's glorious. He bites down lightly on my bottom lip, and I moan in response, sensation coursing through my veins. "I'm going to take my shirt off now," he tells me, sitting up.

"I think it's important you do." I can't resist a little bit of snark. "It's a truly heinous crime to fashion."

"Ha, I think you like it more than you're letting on!" His voice bubbles with mirth as he opens enough buttons to be able to pull it over his head easily. And then those abs are revealed in all their glory!

"Much better," I find myself purring, and he laughs.

"If I'd known you preferred me topless, maybe I'd have stripped for you a long time ago," he tells me, straddling me and bending back down to kiss me before I have a chance to consider the meaning of that sentence any further. I can't resist tracing my palms over those stomach muscles. They are very, very good, as is the smooth golden skin that stretches across them. I decide to explore further, moving down towards his shorts, and as my fingers graze their contents, he jerks back slightly.

"I'm trying to take things slowly here," he chides me.

"Sorry, sir," I giggle, channelling the naughty schoolgirl character I briefly thought about earlier. His gaze darkens at my words, and he slides the straps of my camisole top down my arms, making it easier to free my chest. He hisses out a breath between his teeth, eyes narrowing as he takes me in.

"You are so fucking sexy, Ruby." I feel it in that moment. And I know he means it - I can see it written all over his face. He lowers his head and his lips close over one nipple, swirling his tongue around it while manipulating the other breast with his free hand. My nipples have always been ridiculously sensitive, but now their responsiveness is way off the scale . . . and they're sending intense signals down my body to the place I crave him even more. Lewis somehow receives that message, too.

He hooks his fingers lightly into the waistband of my shorts before he looks up at me, a query in his eyes. "Is this okay?" he whispers. I can do nothing but nod - I'm already a massive bag of heightened nerves, void of vocabulary, and incapable of forming any sort of sentence. At this point, all I need is release.

He lowers the shorts down my legs, my knickers hitching a ride with them, too. He's doing this slowly, teasingly, but it feels like he's torturing himself as just as much as he's tormenting me. His breathing is laboured, his gaze focused. I'm watching him take this journey, fascinated by the intense concentration on his face. The fact it's me that he's studying so hard should be embarrassing, but somehow, it's not.

Shorts and knickers finally tossed aside, his mouth begins to move in slow kisses from my knee up to my thigh. Jesus, he hasn't even ventured anywhere near my core yet, and I'm already close to explosion. He finally moves one finger to my clit, touching it so lightly I shouldn't really feel it . . . But I'm hyper aware, my body squirming at the feeling while simultaneously trying to lean further into it: the ultimate love/hate relationship.

"Stop being a sadist!" I groan, and I hear the lightest of chuckles from between my legs.

"Your wish is my command." His lips replace his finger, and my world goes foggy as he fully applies himself to bringing me to a climax. Cancel all the nearby flights, guys, Mount Ruby is about to take out the skies like that unpronounceable Icelandic volcano did back in 2010!

I always knew Lewis would be a sexpert - not that I thought about it a lot, you understand - but he's actually even better than I expected. His tongue curls into me, and my world erupts in extreme technicolour as I grip tightly onto my pillow and ride out the electrical storm that's been building up inside me. I'm a panting, writhing natural disaster, and he's the sole survivor.

I'm unable to muffle my reaction, and I'm anticipating a smug response to this (it is Lewis, after all). But when I open my eyes, he's watching me warily. "What's wrong?" I ask, between breaths as I start to return to reality.

His lips quirk upwards in a rueful smile as he moves back up my body. "I guess I was just waiting for your regret to hit," he murmurs into my neck as his stubble grazes my skin, and all those nerve endings prickle to life once again.

"We're not quite there yet," I inform him, gasping as his teeth scrape across my collarbone. "I . . . I think I have to see you naked first. Have you inside me. Only then can I regret it."

"You sure know how to make a guy feel special." His eyes glitter as his lips descend on mine again. In this moment, we're not "Ruby and Lewis - adversaries". We're just two people connecting on a different level. The "horny" level, obviously. And apparently also on the "surprisingly tender kissing" level. Because I'm finding these kisses strangely addictive, and I think he might be too.

"Shit. Condoms," he mutters as I'm shedding my top, and he's finally about to show me the goods. "Give me a second." He rushes from the room, as if he's scared I'll change my mind if he dilly-dallies too much. Unfortunately, I'm too far invested now. And way too eager to get into his shorts.

"So who were these meant for?" I ask archly as he returns promptly with a box of condoms. My mind briefly drifts back to beautiful Lara, and my lips curl in a sneer.

"Aw, you jealous?" he says teasingly, and I roll my eyes.

"Hardly. You can sleep your way around Crete for all I care!" I keep my voice light. I'm not entirely sure I believe my own words, but I manage to sound like I do. He laughs, but there's little humour in it.

"Well, the fact the box is sealed should tell you something," he says softly as he fumbles to open it.

What should it tell me? Is he onto his second box already this holiday? I immediately feel bad about my uncharitable thoughts - he hasn't spent enough time away from me while we've been on this island to go through an entire box of condoms! I finally choose to take the comment at face value - he said he hadn't even kissed anyone in a long time, after all, and I'm assuming that we're not in some sort of Pretty Woman situation where he has lots of sex without kissing. Certainly not when he kisses so well!

"I feel truly honoured," I say jokingly, as he finally frees a condom and his responding, relieved smile lets me know I chose wisely. His eyes go all gooey dark chocolate as he looks at me spread out naked on the bed. "Holy shit, Ruby," he murmurs appreciatively, and I begin to melt once more in the sheer fire of his gaze.

Then he's beside me once more, our tongues tangling again as I help remove his shorts and slip the condom onto him (a little clumsily - it's been a while, remember?). I get a good visual of his cock beforehand - it's impressive without being intimidating (there's big and there's too big!) and as he hovers over me, I'm already desperate to have him inside me.

"You're definitely sure you want to do this?" he checks once more.

"More certain than I've ever been about pretty much anything in my life," I tell him impatiently. And, with consent fully given, he lowers himself into me. We both gasp as he fills me completely.

"You feel so good," Lewis whispers against my mouth. His lips migrate to my neck again as he starts to thrust into me. I hear him say something that sounds like "just like I always imagined you would," but it's so quiet I've probably misheard. The sheer intimacy in this moment is doing a number on me, making me feel things I don't understand. I can't have that, I just can't!

"I want to go on top," I tell him, trying to wrestle back the only bit of control I can think of. I expect him to fight me on it, but he goes with my demands, managing to roll us over without breaking our connection, and I lift my upper body so I can rest my weight on my elbows, and control our movement. It feels even better in this position. And Lewis looks way too good this way, panting below me with the finest glow of sweat coating his forehead, eyelashes long and ridiculously dark against his tanned cheeks.

"I'm already so close," Lewis groans, his lips briefly brushing mine. "You don't understand what you're doing to me, Ruby."

"I think I do," I reply as I take my turn to bury myself in his neck. He smells so good. I could live there. "Just let yourself go."

His thumb slides down to my already wet centre, immediately finding my clit and pushing down on it. "I want you to let yourself go too . . . With me this time," he says hoarsely.

Oh god, he's really about to give me my second orgasm in less than ten minutes, isn't he? I feel the pressure start to build again; it's almost too much to bear as he continues to thrust upwards while ensuring I'm awarded that additional pleasure, too. I certainly didn't expect him to be this generous. And I definitely didn't anticipate falling apart again so completely and so quickly. Yet here I am, moaning and writhing against him in sync as my name escapes his lips on the sexiest sigh I've ever heard.

Sex has never been like this for me.

There's silence now as we lie there, spent, limbs still intertwined. And then I peel myself off him, reach for my pyjamas. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him roll over onto his side to watch me.

The sudden shift in the atmosphere is distinct for both of us. As if a director has shouted "cut" on the scene, and now it's time to go back to real life.

"I'm guessing that regret is kicking in now?" His voice is gruff, and when I look at him, his face back to that unreadable poker version. I'm not really sure what I expected the aftermath of this to be like. I hadn't really thought that far ahead. The whole experience was definitely out of character for me!

"Maybe not regret," I tell him, tugging my top back over my head. "More like relief. Like we've got something out of our systems now?" I can't let him know how much this has actually affected me. He'd never let me live it down.

"Cool." He nods, getting to his feet and pulling off the condom before he slips his shorts on. "I'll get out of your hair, in that case." Walking around to where I stand, he bends and kisses me briskly on the cheek. "Nice doing business with you." He flashes me a smirk before he turns to leave, but it doesn't seem to have its usual cockiness behind it.

"Lewis, are we okay?" I blurt out as he opens the bedroom door.

He pauses, his back still to me.  I can see how tense his muscles are. "Were we ever okay, really?" he asks. It's obviously a rhetorical question as he closes the door and leaves without another word. I stare at the horrendously gaudy shirt he's left discarded on the floor, and blink away the tears that have suddenly welled up in my eyes.

When I nip out to the loo a few minutes later, he's nowhere to be seen. And when I drift off to sleep shortly afterwards, I find myself clutching his shirt tightly to my heart.

Um . . . So I hope that was good for you!

I'm not gonna lie, I kinda struggled with some of the writing of this chapter, trying to get the flow right while keeping the characters true to themselves. I'm hoping it worked out!

Also, if I wasn't already falling for Lewis, I definitely am now.  Consent king and generous in bed? It's a winning combination. 😉

But what will happen next? I'll let you know once I know . . . 🤣