Chapter 163
**Sara**
Tom's tongue swept into my mouth. I melted into him, my hands clutching his shoulders as he deepened the kiss.
"I like being your husband, too," he murmured against my lips. "Even if it's just pretend."
"Yeah?" I nipped his bottom lip. "What do you like about it?"
His answer was another kiss, harder this time, more demanding. His hands untied my robe, pushing it open to expose my skin to the warm air. I moaned as his fingers traced patterns on my bare stomach, climbing higher.
"I like how responsive you are." His voice was rough with desire. "How you react to every touch."
His lips found my neck again, and I tilted my head back, giving him better access. The balcony railing pressed against my back as he pushed me against it, his body pinning me in place.
"I like how you challenge me." His teeth scraped my collarbone. "How you keep me on my toes."
My hands fumbled with his robe, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He helped me push it off his shoulders, and I ran my nails down his chest, feeling his muscles jump under my touch.
"I like how you drive me crazy." His kiss was almost bruising now, filled with hunger and need. "How you make me forget everything else."
I moaned into his mouth, my body arching against his. The sun's heat warmed my exposed skin where my robe had fallen open, but it was nothing compared to the fire of his touch.
His hands slid down my sides, gripping my hips and pulling me tight against him. I could feel how much he wanted me, hard and insistent against my stomach.
"Tom," I gasped as his lips traced a burning path down my neck. "We need to stop."
"Do we?" His teeth grazed my pulse point, making me shiver. "You don't sound very convinced."
"Food," I managed to say, but his wandering hands made it hard to think straight. "Remember? The fancy French restaurant?"
"Mmm." He sucked hard on my neck, definitely leaving a mark. "You taste better than anything they could serve."
I laughed breathlessly, pushing against his chest. "You can eat me later. Right now, I need actual sustenance."
His groan vibrated against my skin. "Promise?"
"Cross my heart." I slipped out of his grasp, adjusting my robe. "But I might pass out if I don't get real food soon. And that would really ruin your plans for dessert."
"Can't have that." He caught me around the waist, pulling me back for one more searing kiss. "Fine. Food first, then I'm holding you to that promise."
"Deal." I patted his chest, stepping back before he could distract me again. "Now, put your robe back on before we give the other guests a show."
He grabbed his robe from where it had fallen, shrugging it back on.
I watched Tom secure his robe, admiring how the silk clung to his broad shoulders. "We should probably put on actual clothes before heading down."
"Probably wise. Although I definitely appreciate what I'm seeing right now." His eyes traced over my partially exposed skin.
"Eyes up here, Professor." I tightened my robe's belt. "Food first, remember?"
Back in our suite, I rifled through my overpacked suitcase, pulling out a dark blue sundress. Tom emerged from the bathroom in tailored slacks and a crisp white button-down that made him look unfairly attractive.
"That's what you're wearing?" He raised an eyebrow at my dress.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing. It's just..." He stepped closer, fingers trailing along my bare shoulder. "Very distracting."
"Says the man who looks like he stepped out of a magazine." I smoothed his collar, letting my hands linger. "Now, behave yourself. We're supposed to be newlyweds, remember?"
"Oh, I remember." His hands settled on my hips. "Try to act more... wife-like downstairs. We don't want to lose those honeymoon perks."
"Wife-like? And what exactly does that mean?"
"You know, adoringly gazing at me, hanging on my every word..."
"Right, because that's what wives do." I rolled my eyes. "You should work on your skills first before critiquing my performance."
"My skills are excellent."
"Really?" I crossed my arms. "When was the last time you complimented my outfit without trying to get me out of it?"
"The dress is perfect on you - it hugs your curves and flows when you move. You look absolutely stunning." His fingers traced the neckline. "Like a goddess who stepped right out of a dream."
"And there it is." I caught his wandering hand. "You lasted what, five seconds before getting handsy?"
"Can't help myself." He pulled me closer, his breath warm against my ear. "My wife is irresistible."
"Fake wife," I reminded him but pressed against him anyway. "And I'm starving. Food first, then you can show me how irresistible you find me."
"Promise?" His lips brushed my neck.
"Tom!" I squirmed away, laughing. "Seriously, I need sustenance. All this fake honeymoon activity is wearing me out."
"Fine, fine." He stepped back, adjusting his shirt where I'd wrinkled it. "Let's get you fed before you waste away."
I smoothed down my dress and followed Tom into the hallway. The elevator dinged open just as we reached it - perfect timing, like everything else in this ridiculously fancy hotel.
"Remember," Tom murmured as we stepped inside. "We're madly in love newlyweds."
"Oh honey-bear!" I clasped my hands dramatically to my chest. "I just love you sooo much!"
He shot me a look. "Maybe dial it back about ten notches."
"What, too much?" I batted my eyelashes at him. "Sweetie-pie? Sugar plum? Light of my life?"
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and Tom's hand found the small of my back, guiding me out. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"That's what wives do, right? Embarrass their husbands in public?"
"Keep it up, and I might have to punish you later," he whispered, his hand sliding dangerously low on my back as we walked through the ornate lobby.
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