Resting back on his elbows, he waited, his nerves taut, his muscles fairly trembling with need. Leaning in, she puckered and blew air along the entire length of his shaft. He groaned low in anticipation. Then she gave him the wickedest, sauciest, most sensual of grins, her eyes dark and smoldering.
When her lips touched the head of his cock, he nearly exploded. “Jesus.”
Her tongue slowly circled the incredibly sensitive skin. When she closed her mouth around him, he dropped back on the pillow, lost in the sensations. She took her time, tormenting him as though she’d been born to do so. He threaded his fingers through her hair because he needed to touch her, needed a deeper connection than simply feeling her wedged between his legs.
She was keeping every wicked promise with which she’d ever teased him. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Again, with her, there was the open honesty. She never said what she didn’t mean. With her, he’d always known exactly where he stood.
Her mouth was so hot, so wet, so damned skilled. He knew she’d been a virgin when he took her the night before, had felt her body give way to him, but she pleasured him now like the highest paid courtesan. No, better than that. She wasn’t doing it for money. She was doing it because she wanted to. She was here now because he meant something to her. She’d not uttered the words, not told him that she loved him, but how could she give so much to him if she didn’t?
Pushing himself back up, he watched as her mouth slid along the length of his cock. “I’m close to bursting, Fancy. Straddle me now. I want my cock inside your sweet haven.”
Offering support, he eased her up and assisted her as she slid down, enveloping him completely. Blanketing her mouth, he tasted himself on her tongue. Sitting up, with one arm under her bottom, the other clasped against her back, he guided her as she rode him hard and fast, her hands stroking his shoulders, his back, as though she couldn’t get enough of him.
Her sighs and mewls heightened his own pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me again.”
“It feels so good.” She buried her face in the curve of his neck. Her arms tightened around him. She shuddered, trembled, cried out, and the muscles of her core squeezed—
He hung on to her as the cataclysm rocked him to his core. Dropping back to the bed, he brought her with him. Lethargic, weakened, he still found the strength to hold her to him. He belonged to her now, heart, body, and soul. He would forever remain hers.
Just as dawn began lightening the mews, Fancy awoke, aching, sore, and tender, but feeling marvelous all the same. She’d had him twice more before they’d finally drifted off to sleep.
Matthew rested on his side, facing her, his hand cradling her hip. He was so beautiful, still lost in dreams, as night began easing away, unveiling him for her eyes and her eyes alone.
A sadness swept through her because she would never again awaken in his arms, in his bed, with his scent wafting around her. Never again would she see his spiky, sooty lashes resting on his high cheekbones. Never again would she see his hair sticking up on one side or note the heavy bristles coating his jaw.
She was tempted to wake him, ask him to take a razor to his face, so she would have that memory of his mornings. To watch him wash up and dress. Although she thought her favorite memory would always be of him divesting his clothing. And hers.
She had no regrets regarding their coming together, not last night or the night before. Men did it all the time: took women and left them. Why couldn’t a woman do the same?
But it wasn’t the same. Already there was an ache in her heart for the emptiness that would consume her when she left here. The thought of leaving him hurt so badly. It made it difficult to breathe, caused her throat to tighten and tears to threaten. Love was supposed to give one strength, and yet she felt so weak. She didn’t want to leave him—ever. She wanted to stay here until their hair turned silver. She wanted to kiss every inch of him again... and again and again. Wanted him kissing every inch of her. She wanted to feel him moving inside of her with purpose and strength. She wanted what she couldn’t have.
All because of a silly desire to see a rare and precious book. Because for the briefest tick of a clock another man had touched his mouth to hers and it had meant nothing. But still, it would change the course of her life. It would take her from Matthew.
Giving him up would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
He alone held the power that made her heart and body sing. He was a rare find. Like the books she loved most of all, he offered a unique glimpse into something that shouldn’t be taken for granted. It was more than love. It was a soul-deep connection that made everything right and good.
Hearing the creak of a wagon’s wheels, she squeezed her eyes shut. The real world was beginning to move about and would soon be invading this fantasy one, causing it to fade away until it too was naught but reality. She couldn’t hold on forever.
She had to let go.
Carefully, gingerly, she began easing off the bed. His hand clamped around her hip.
“Mmm,” he murmured, opening his eyes narrowly and peering at her. “Where are you going?”
“I have to leave before too many people are about.” Leaning in, she kissed his forehead. “I can’t be caught leaving a bachelor’s residence at dawn.”
“Stay awhile longer.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
He would, she knew he would, but it would make it all the harder to leave. “I can’t.”
With a great deal of reluctance, Matthew let her go, rolled onto his back, shoved himself up slightly, and placed his hands behind his head, watching as she began gathering up her clothing. He wanted to watch her doing that every morning for the remainder of his life. He loved her, to the depths of his soul. “Don’t open the shop today. Let’s do something together. We’ll take the train to Brighton. No, we’ll take a flight in a hot air balloon.”I want to tell you who I am. I want to ask you to marry me. You can have your dream of marrying for love. Your family will have theirs of seeing you become part of the aristocracy.
Straightening, she wrapped a hand around the bedpost and stood there in all her naked glory. He wanted her breast back in his mouth, her legs wrapped around his waist. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll purchase all the books in your shop, and you’ll have nothing to sell and no reason to unlock your door to customers.”
She gave a huff of a laugh, her smile not nearly as bright as he’d expected his words to make it. “You can’t afford to do that.”
