She yielded to him, a silent plea for something more intimate.
“Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he reassured her.
She cupped his cheek, closed her eyes, and kissed him with such fervour he nearly hauled her against the wall, desperate to be inside her.
Her moan vibrated against his mouth, and he drank it in, his hand gliding up the silken inside of her thigh.
“You’re sure about this?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Don’t stop, Gabriel.”
Her skin quivered beneath his touch, heat meeting heat, and for a moment the world shrank to the slow slide of his fingers and the sound of their unsteady breaths.
God, she was sweet. Sweet and wet and his for the taking.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you?” His voice was almost feral as he circled the tight bud, finding the right rhythm. “Since that first night in the music room at The Burnished Jade. Long before I dared admit it to myself.”
She gripped his shoulder, her fingers sinking into the fine wool as he slipped two fingers into her wetness, his thumb teasing the centre of her need.
“Gabriel,” came her plea.
“That’s it, love. Let it take you.” He watched her, a sliver of moonlight catching her parted lips and the rise of her breasts as she came undone.
Desire clawed at his control.
Hell, he was ready to spend in his trousers.
Her head fell back, her mouth parting on a moan—the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He held her as her body shuddered through the exquisite sensations. It took Herculean strength not to lower her to the bare boards and lose himself completely.
They stood, gazes locked, their breathing gradually steadying.
“That was … that was?—”
He kissed the words from her lips. “Don’t say it now. Think about what it means to have me in your bed. Take all the time you need.” Because he feared that once he had her, his heart might never recover.
She nodded. “Have you and Miss?—”
“I’ve never touched her the way I’ve touched you.”
He straightened her nightgown and tied the belt of her wrapper.
“Allow me to escort you back to your bedchamber. We can discuss the pleasures of married life tomorrow.”
She smiled now the urge to make love had ebbed, yet something else thrummed in the air between them.
Something powerful.
Something he couldn’t name.
Chapter Thirteen
Morning brought no peace.
Olivia had slept as if in a dream, only to wake with her body still thrumming from Gabriel’s touch. His cologne lingered on her nightgown. The faint ache between her thighs stirred memories of his voice, his hands, the hunger in his eyes when he brought her to completion.
He’d been right to urge caution.
Such intimacy did more than blur boundaries. It left her tethered to him in ways she couldn’t explain. She felt him still, as if he lived beneath her skin. As she dressed, the whisper of fabric over her thighs made her catch her breath, as though he were there, touching her again.
