“I have to show you.”
And before she could reply, he lowered his mouth to hers.
Any protest she might have had died a swift death as his mouth seized her own.
It was not a soft kiss. It was a conquest. A claim. A need to drive out all doubts. All fears.
He pulled her across the coach, onto his lap, and all but devoured her lips. Tasting. Teasing. Taking.
He stole her breath, her fears, and replaced them with fire. The heat of his passion burned through her, and she found herself clinging to him, barely able to think. Barely able to move under his ministrations.
His hand slid to her skirts and his palm took her calf in hand. Oh so slowly, he slid that palm upward, over her silk stocking.
Past her knee. To her thigh. Then over the ribbon which secured her stocking.
He lifted his mouth from hers, catching her gaze as he dragged his hand up her thigh, under her chemise.
She could not draw breath, and for once, her gown felt far too tight. Her breasts ached, pressing against the bodice.
She did not care if anyone caught them in this moment. She did not care that they were being absolutely scandalous. Just outside his house.
She no longer needed to care.
She was his wife.
And everyone was still at the Scofield ball. They would be until dawn.
She had missed this. His touch. This wildness that only he could awaken in her. A desire to throw every rule away.
And then his fingers slid between her legs and met her core.
She gasped and arched against him, that sweet, nearly unbelievable ache of pleasure coursing through her.
He bit his lower lip, as if he wished to devour her. As if the sight of her pleasure was his greatest reward.
He did not relent as he circled his fingers over her most intimate spot.
She clung to his shoulders, shocked that they had abandoned all decorum. Thrilling in it, too. The way he touched her, stroking her slowly as if he was determined to make her dwell in bliss without pause, was almost unbearable in its sweetness.
His mouth descended upon hers in a searing kiss, stealing her thoughts. And each kiss tossed her higher and higher into passion, and her body began to tremble as if it couldn’t take the building pleasure anymore. And when she found herself crashing through wave after wave of bliss, he stole her cry with his mouth.
She held onto him as if he was the only thing keeping her in this world.
And when her breath slowed, he met her gaze again and said in a low growl, “This is what we have, Jack. We always will. And it will be enough.”
As she struggled to regain her composure, it was difficult to argue.
But could it last? Could it sustain them? This wild fervor of bodies?
It had to be. They had to make it so.
Slowly, he lowered her skirts, then slowly, deliberately, he brought his fingers to his mouth.
Her eyes flared as he swiped his tongue over his fingertips. And she knew. Somehow, she knew he was promising her with more pleasures to come.
He threw open the coach door, climbed down, turned, and held out his hand to her.
She stared past him to the doors of his impressive townhouse, knowing that she was stepping into a new future. One entirely a mystery to her.