She seized her pleasure the same way she seized life, adventure. Her enthusiasm made even daylight disappear. Inside the small-windowed room, night reigned supreme.
And shadows did not exist in the night. In night, he was fully whole.
Her heat penetrated the flimsy layers of linen and cotton separating them. Her desire stretched out like an invisible string. She wanted him? She could have him. But he wouldn’t settle for crumbs.
He seized command, deepened control, stole her breath, and promised pleasure—possession—in return. He lifted her up and pinned her, her back flat against the wall.
Lock and key, her thighs fit to his. His cock—as hard as he’d been from night into morning—rested desperately close to where they both wanted.
With one slight movement, he could open the flap of her trousers. With another yank, they’d be on the floor. He could finally—finally—settle between her legs and thrust until the painful throb ceased, something he never would have considered when he believed her chaste.
But no virgin could have such confidence.
So what if she’d had another man? Now was all that mattered. She was everything he wanted. Everything he’d so far denied.
He rocked against her pelvis.
She whimpered. The sound ricocheted through him.
He rocked again. This was going to feel so, so—
“Stop!”
Icy chill spread through his veins. No other word could have reached him so fast.
Blood pounded behind his eyes, making everything hazy and red. He stepped back and slowly eased her onto her feet.
Stop.
Of course she’d been right to demand he cease his attentions. He’d lost his mind.Again.
“Rayne, I—I’ve never done this before.”
He took in her red cheeks, her wide-eyed frantic gaze… Unbelievable as her innocence was, she was telling the truth.
“You owe me no explanation.” He hadn’t entirely found his voice. “But for your own good, you should leave.”
Just like the last time, he’d simply stolen something that wasn’t his.
This time, however, he hadn’t just violated a virgin. He’d come razor’s-edge close to swiving another gentleman’s betrothed against a wall.
He pressed his hands over his lips, as if he could wipe off the stain of everything he might have done. No doubt, she longed for her gentleman friend’s restraint.
He turned away, hating Edmund Alistair Clarke more than he’d hated anything.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said roughly. “If you’ve set your heart on that—” He stopped himself from sayingprig. “I’ll see you on the mail coach but no farther.”
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Chapter Seven
Sheshould leave, should she? Because hechanged his mind?
All Julia had wanted was for Rayne to slow down.
To give her space to take a breath that wasn’t his.
To put her feet back on the ground.
