Which meant they had an early morning.
She nodded, but before he turned to leave, she placed her hand on his arm, resisting the yearning to lean into his chest. “Will you inform me if one has not?” she asked instead.
His brows rose, but he dipped his chin. “It will be fine.”
She noticed that he made no promises. If there was no available chamber, he would likely sleep on a bench in the taproom, or the stables, or perhaps the carriage. Before she lost her courage, Nia closed the space between them with a single step, slid her hand up his arm, and pressed onto her toes.
When she couldn’t quite reach his mouth, he met her halfway. One of his hands cradled her cheek and the other landed on her neck in what began as a tender, rather innocent kiss.
Nia opened her mouth, and like a burst of lightning, every second of denial leading up to this moment exploded.
Jasper hitched his hand on her thigh and lifted her off the ground. Instinctively, Nia clung to him with both her arms and her legs as he carried her into the room, kicking the door closed behind them.
“You’re sure?” he rumbled against her mouth.
She’d never been more certain of anything in all her life. This man had become her world.
With nothing but a sliver of moonlight glowing through a single window, Jasper bumped into a table. Keeping his mouth locked on hers, he released her legs just long enough to unfasten his falls.
Seated on the table, Nia couldn’t get close enough. With him standing between her thighs, she fumbled to help with his buttons. When they finally came loose, they both wrestled to remove the impediment of her gown. Her tongue writhed with his, wanting more, and when his length finally pressed against her center, she clawed at his back.
“Jasper.” She inhaled him, molding herself to his front.
“Sweet—” He slid his hands beneath her, and it settled between them.
It felt hot, soft, and hard at the same time. Jasper shifted his hips, sliding along her folds, slick now with her own juices.
Rather than feel embarrassed, she moved with him, moaning into his mouth.
“Bed,” he said. “You should have a bed beneath you. Silk. Velvet.” His mouth latched onto her shoulder.
Both the top and the bottom of her gown and chemise were practically knotted around her waist, his breeches open and loose.
Using her feet, she shoved them down his thighs, clutching the almost steel-like muscles of his buttocks.
And she clung to him tighter. Because this…
…was somehow perfect. It was clumsy, messy, and spontaneous, like everything else between the two of them.
And it was…
Perfect.
“I want—” Nia gulped as he slid partially inside.
“Nia.” His whisper came out more of a rasp. “What do you want?”
“You.” She moved her hips against him. “Inside.”
Jasper nudged forward, filling her, but not enough. He drew back and if he hadn’t slid inside again, she would have wept.
Deeper.
He had one hand between them, rubbing, stroking her sex. And he pumped out and in again, sliding, shoving, filling more and more of her.
She’d been warned there would be tearing—pain. She’d been warned…
Wrongly.
