Because she loved feeling him inside her. She loved how he knew where to touch her, what she wanted.
She loved that he seemed to struggle to maintain his control—that he seemed as shaken by this desire as she was. The table shook beneath her as Jasper drove it into the wall. And then he thrust harder.
Nia gasped for breath as the edge of euphoria teased her.
This was more intense than before. Because he surrounded her. Because she felt him approaching the edge with her.
“Fuck,” he said. “Nia.” He increased his pace and the table creaked and groaned along with them, knocking against the wall.
She wanted him all around her. She wanted to be claimed, owned, inside and out. Blood roared in her ears even as unintelligible words echoed in her head. Jasper.
Jasper.
Jasper.
And then she shattered.
He’d taken her beyond the sky, beyond the stars, and sent her flying. Wicked. Unparalleled pleasure. The trembling rolled through her again, and again, and again…
When it finally subsided, Jasper thrust deeper once. And then even deeper. And then withdrew, fisting his shaft and shooting his release onto her gown, some landing on her chest and drizzling between her breasts.
Jasper used his other fist to support himself as he fell forward, head bent and catching his breath. Nia placed one hand on his head, holding him against her.
The moment was so shockingly intimate, it stole her breath.
Jasper couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done.
Not only had they made love, but he’d taken her against a table, unable to hold off for even three seconds to get them both to the bed.
He didn’t regret it. God, how could he? Merely the thought of her squeezing around him, hot and wet, made him harden again.
“You all right?” He barely got the words out between breaths.
“Mmm…” she purred. She was all right. She sounded like a satisfied cat.
She had one hand on his head, her fingers combing his hair, and a sense of rightness washed over him.
Summoning his remaining strength, he gathered her up and carried her to the bed. When had this woman become his world?
Her hands, which she’d clasped around his neck, fell away as he lowered her onto the mattress. Blue-gray moonlight filtered through the window, but the glow came from inside her more than anything. Hair spread around her face like a halo, and she gazed up at him from sleepy eyes.
His seed trailed between her breasts, pale and pert, now his favorite in the world. He’d been the luckiest man in all of England the day she’d thrown herself into his carriage. Dewberry’s loss had, indeed, been Jasper’s gain.
Taking a moment to fasten a few hooks on his breeches, he trailed his gaze down to where her hips flared into a sensual curve, catching her gown and chemise, barely covering her sex.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, breaking the kiss before he got carried away again.
“Wait here,” he said, mocking himself.
“Yes, Jasper.” She laughed, a low chuckle of contentment in her throat, and even in the darkness, her cheeks pinkened.
This woman would be the death of him.
He reluctantly crossed to the washbasin, where he poured water onto a white cloth before returning to the bed. He sat down, and when she went to sit up, he pressed her shoulder. “Don’t move.” For now, he wanted to savor her—this moment. “I like seeing you like this.”
He flicked his stare from her eyes to her chest, and then, taking his time, slowly cleaned his seed from her skin. Her nipples pebbled as she watched him touch her.
She didn’t protest when he gripped the material twisted around her, but lifted her hips to help him slide it down her legs.
