There was no reason.
There was only hunger.
Her legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed her, his hand still buried in her hair, the other on the sweet curve of her hip, holding her in place as he withdrew almost entirely, only to sink home inside her again. She arched into him, her breasts rising like offerings.
He accepted. Lowered his head. Licked over one nipple as he thrust harder.
She moaned. Her nipples were so sensitive. Her cunny so wet. He was going to lose himself and spend inside her if he was not careful.Control, he reminded himself. He had spent inside her once before, and he could not do so again.
He increased his pace again, fucking her so hard, the table moved across the floor with a clatter, slamming into the wall. They were going to destroy this blasted dressing room, and he did not give a damn. If he had his way, there would be nothing left. Not a stick of furniture untouched. Nothing but him and Johanna, naked and sated.
He found his way back to her mouth as he slammed inside her, and their lips fused on her cry as she tightened on him, spending. A new surge of wetness bathed his cock, and as the shudders radiated through her body, he reached the point where he could no longer hold off his own release.
He withdrew from her, gripping his cock tightly, as he came so hard, he could not suppress his own growl of release. He tore his lips from hers, breaking their kiss as he spent all over her thigh. His heart was thundering in his chest, and he could scarcely catch his breath.
The sight of her on the table, her breasts and cunny on display, all cream and pink, her legs spread, his seed on her skin, was unbearably erotic. She was breathing every bit as harshly as he, her expression dazed. He leaned against her, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
His love for her had never been stronger.
Nor had his need to somehow overcome the walls between them.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Mademoiselle Beaumont?” called a feminine voice.
“Yes, Jenny?” Johanna answered, eyes going wide, her voice still throaty and low with the aftereffects of the passion they had just shared.
“I heard a commotion,” said the woman on the other side of the door.
“Everything is fine,” Johanna reassured her, though there was a hitch in her voice that suggested the opposite.
Her stricken sky-blue eyes met his, and he saw all the doubts and shadows lingering there. He wanted to chase them away. If only he knew how to.
“Are you needing my help?” asked the woman, ever persistent.
Cursing, Felix stepped back from Johanna, adjusting himself and fastening his trousers once more. He extracted a handkerchief from within his coat and used it to wipe the traces of his seed from her thigh.
Johana clutched at the tattered ends of her costume, gathering them around her protectively. “No, Jenny,” she called. “I will not be needing you tonight. Thank you, you may go.”
“Johanna,” he said, thinking he should apologize for the ravenous fashion in which he had taken her.Bloody hell, he had made a wreckage of the room and of her as well. Her hair was mostly unbound now, spilling over her shoulders. Her dress was ruined. The table had smashed into the wall, and the pitcher and basin were upended, their shards in the midst of a puddle of water.
“You may go as well,” she told him, the sated glow of lovemaking gone from her countenance.
“Allow me to escort you to your carriage, at least,” he said.
“No,” she denied, sweeping from the table and out of his reach once more. “That was goodbye, Felix. I cannot keep doing what we are doing.”
“I agree.” He stepped toward her. “Marry me, Johanna. The offer still stands. There is every indication that your brother is in London. I heard from the Duke of Arden today, and it is the reason I came to see you. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
She stilled, her complexion going pale. “Drummond is here?”
“According to reports from double agents within the Fenian ranks, he is,” Felix told her. “Please, Johanna. If you will not allow me to protect you, go back to Lark House. Arden will see to your safety.”
She pressed a shaking hand to her lips, as if to stifle a sob.
How he wanted to take her back in his arms, to comfort her. But he did not dare. She still did not trust him. That much was obvious. And he had no wish to push her further than he already had.
“I will wait for you outside and escort you to your carriage,” he said grimly. “It is the least I can do.”
