She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t embarrassed.
She simply wanted this man inside of her. The thought came unexpectedly, startling her. But being with Jasper like this revealed the emptiness inside.
She’d been a shell of a woman and would still be if she hadn’t run away.
Because it was Jasper who made her feel… real.
Her mother had described the act as though Nia would be a victim. And she would have been, with anyone but this man.
With Jasper, she could cede control without fear.
With Jasper, she could give herself without losing herself.
Jasper broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “There comes a point, Nia,” he said, “When we can’t turn back. When marriage to one another is inevitable, regardless of everything else. We’ve already come dangerously close to that.”
She knew this. In fact, most would think they’d already passed it.
She shook her head. “You said from the beginning that you didn’t want marriage. I know we’ve set out our terms, but honor has forced you into this. And I hate that. I hate that you don’t feel you have the choice to walk away from me.” Because she knew what it felt like. And she…
Had run.
“I would have had to take a bride anyway,” he said with a half-smile. “Eventually.”
Had to…
Eventually.
But she’d all but sealed his fate that morning when she’d climbed into his carriage. The fact that such a seemingly insignificant decision could alter the course of another person’s life astounded her.
But they were already at the point of no return, and here she sat, figuratively and a little literally, on the precipice of yet another life-changing crossroads.
And being in his arms, intimately acquainted with evidence that his desire matched hers, there was only one choice, really. She let out a soft sigh and Jasper claimed her mouth again.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, clutching the back of his head as she arched her back, signaling his permission to lick and kiss and suck his way down her neck. When he reached her bodice, he kept going, his mouth more demanding than his hands had been as he rubbed his face and mouth from one breast to the other. Even over the material, the damp heat of his tongue and the hint of scraping from his teeth sent desire shooting to her core.
And still it wasn’t enough.
She whimpered and released him long enough to tug down on her bodice. But it was too tight, and she glanced up to meet his eyes.
Keeping his gaze on hers, with a flick of his wrist, the material loosened.
Magic. He possessed all kinds of magic.
Only after his hands had worked her breasts free of the material did he drop his gaze. Nia allowed her own to follow, to see what he saw.
Her modiste had once declared Nia’s breasts to be the perfect size for fashion—not overly large, but also firm and high. Goldie’s had been far more prominent, similar to Stella’s, and suddenly Nia wondered if she was lacking.
Marks left by Jasper’s teeth marred the almost-translucent skin, and the tips had tightened into ruby-red buds.
But when she raised a hand to cover herself, Jasper blocked it, taking one of those buds between his fingers and pinching it.
The result was a pain that wasn’t painful but sent a piercing need to her core, where she rubbed herself against him.
“Perfect,” he said. “A tender rose. More than perfect.” He lowered his mouth, and with nothing between his mouth and her skin to dull the sensation, she experienced exquisite pleasure with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, and the unmatchable arousal from the suction he created.
Muscles she didn’t know she possessed tightened inside her, coiled into relentless need. And then…
“Perfect and mine,” he added, moving from one side to the other. “Mine,” he growled.
