She shifted. Perhaps she should just leave this alone, but her mind raced with questions. “But, er, you aren’t trying to…that is, you haven’t…I mean, you must be…”
“Hard as steel?” he said with a bright smile. “Oh yes. But just because I want something doesn’t mean I don’t have the ability not to take it. I didn’t put my hands and my mouth on you so that I could have my own pleasure, Elizabeth. I did it because I wanted you to see and feel what you should have experienced before. What a man should have done when he touched you.”
“Oh,” she whispered.
He leaned in and kissed her once again. Gently. Briefly. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world and more. Don’t tell yourself that it isn’t something you need. It’s something you were made for.”
She blinked again, trying to let that selfless offering sink in. What was this man about? She had judged him as so much and yet he was…different. Not exactly the rake he pretended to be.
“Well, I…thank you for it. And for not expecting anything else in return.” Though when she said the words, they felt hollow. She rather wanted something more.
But he was being stronger than she could be, it seemed. And she should thank him for that, as well, though she didn’t.
He glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve been missing from the ball for a while now,” he said. “We probably ought to return, though not together.”
She stepped up to the mirror mounted above the sideboard across the room. It was amazing how she could look so unchanged in the reflection when she felt utterly different from head to toe thanks to the man standing behind her. She smoothed her hair and fought with all her might to regain a little purchase. A little dignity.
“You are probably right,” she said, forcing a smile, as if she were as unmoved by what had just transpired as he appeared to be. “I’ll go back first.”
“Probably best,” he said with a chuckle. “I need a few moments to become, er, presentable.”
He glanced downward and she followed his gaze. His breeches strained against what appeared to be a sizeable bulge. She knew what that was, what it meant, and her stomach fluttered at the sight of his arousal. Well, he’d said he did want her. There was the proof.
Even if he wouldn’t take her.
Her cheeks felt like fire as she backed a step away. “I’ll see you back in the ballroom, then,” she whispered.
His brow wrinkled, and suddenly he moved toward her in three long steps. He leaned in, pressing her back against the door to kiss her one last time. Although the kiss started as a passionate exploration of her mouth, it changed as she wrapped her arms around him. He gentled his tongue, his lips, he tilted his head for different access. He made love to her mouth as he had with her sex a short time before.
And just as then, she felt lost to him when he did.
But finally he broke away and leaned around her to unlock the parlor door. They didn’t move, although she could leave now.
“Why—why did you do that?” she asked.
He caught her hand as he stepped away, allowing her space. As he kept eye contact with her, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Because I know it might be the last time,” he admitted. “And I wanted it to be memorable.”
She smiled even though the idea that tonight was the last time they would allow this connection between them to take over was painful. “You have succeeded in that, Morgan, in spades. I will be thinking of tonight for a long time to come. Now, goodnight.”
She forced herself to slide her hand from his, forced herself to turn and exit the room. But as she walked away, his gaze hot on her back, her entire body began to shake. She’d spent years telling herself that the pleasure her friends seemed to take in physical intimacy was not something she would ever want or find.
And in a few short moments, this man had torn away her expectations and changed everything in her world. Now she had to decide what to do with that knowledge.
As Elizabeth disappeared around the corner back toward the ballroom, Morgan shut the parlor door and relocked it. He sagged against the surface of the door, the full ramifications of what had happened tonight hitting him in a great wave.
He’d lost control. That was the only way to put it. Hearing Elizabeth talk about her past, about the bastard who had hurt and used her, had stoked a fire in him unlike any that had ever burned before. He’d wanted to ride across the country, her flag flying above him, and strike a deathblow to her enemy.
And when it had become clear that wasn’t possible, the other thing he’d wanted to do had become stronger, more undeniable. Touching her, giving her pleasure the other man had denied in his cruelty…it was all Morgan had been able to think about.
“Oh, yes,” he muttered out loud as he flopped down in a chair before the fire. His still-hard cock throbbed, and he shifted. “You’re so fucking noble.”
It was easy to pretend all that had been for her. But that wasn’t it, was it? He’dwantedto kiss her, even though they’d said they’d never do that again. He’dwantedto touch her. He’dwantedto lift her skirts and scent her desire and make her shake around him as she moaned his name.
He’d done it for himself as much as for her. And the more he thought about it, the harder he got.
“Bloody hell,” he gasped out, and flicked the placard of his trousers down. His cock, hard as steel, bobbed away from the confines and to full attention.
He didn’t deserve the pleasure he was about to give himself, but it didn’t matter. He spit on his palm and stroked himself from base to head. Pleasure ricocheted through his entire body, bordering on pain, and he let his breath slide out in a long groan.
