She shook her head. “Not tell me. Show me. Let me hear what you like, what you want, Theo. Let me feel it.”
His legs started to shake at that idea, the pleasure of it was so strong. He nodded slowly. “Put me back in your mouth,” he said softly. “And I will.”
She did as he asked, watching him as she took him a little deeper. He groaned and she stroked over him with her mouth again. She moved, she adjusted, she took him as deep as she could and then stroked what she couldn’t manage. She swirled her tongue and when he barked out a cry, she did it again and again and again.
He was lost to her, lost to what she did to him. He gave over to it, allowing the sensation to wash over him, take him away. She grew more confident when he moaned for her, when he lifted against her in building pleasure. And she started making her own sounds of pleasure, like touching him meant as much to her as it did to him.
He wanted to feel that pleasure. To merge it with his own until they were both shaking for each other. It took a great deal of effort, but he managed to open his eyes, look down at her between his legs, sucking him with abandon.
“Etta,” he grunted, and she looked up at him. “I want you. I want you to ride me.”
She lifted her head from him, letting his cock pop from her mouth softly. He caught her beneath the arms and pulled her up into his lap. Together they pushed her gown up around her stomach and he cupped her bare arse to position her over him. She shifted and he felt the wet heat as he slid home deep inside of her.
She cried out, her fingers gripping against his bare shoulders, nails lightly abrading the flesh there and sending increased sensation through him. He lifted against her and she gasped out his name, driving her fingers against his scalp before she began to ride him.
She ground down against him, thrust over him, moaned when he dug his fingers into her backside and rocked her harder and faster. She was already fluttering with pleasure, instant and hot and powerful. He wanted to make her quake with it, forget her name with it, let go so entirely that she flew.
He lifted into her and kissed her, and she gasped against his lips, rocking harder, gripping him with her body, her wetness increasing as she neared the edge. And then she fell with a scream, rolling her hips, gripping him in increasing waves and milking him until his vision blurred with pleasure.
He wanted to come in her, to feel his pleasure match hers. But that would force her hand in the middle of a crisis his own selfish past had created. He would never be selfish when it came to her again. So he let himself come to the very edge and then he lifted her, coming just as she was gone. She rested her head against his, still moaning as he churned beneath her.
At last the ricochet of pleasure seemed to subside in them both. Their breath began to slow, match in the quiet. She lifted her head up at last and looked down at him. He wanted her to smile. To tease. To play until they staggered to his bed. Even if he knew they’d still have more battles to wage, at least if she did that he’d know they were on the right track.
But she didn’t smile. Her bottom lip trembled instead, her eyes misted with unshed tears. And he knew what she would say before she said it.
“Every moment of this with you was…magical,” she began, ignoring him when he shook his head.
“No,” he said. Almost moaned, but this time with no pleasure.
“Theo,” she said. “Please. You can feel the change just as much as I can. We never said we wanted more. And I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me out of some kind of guilt or friendship or—”
“None of those things,” he said.
She pushed from his lap and straightened her skirt down over herself. It was like nothing had happened between them. Like she had erased the pleasure they just shared. The same way she wanted to erase the connection they’d made since making the agreement to become lovers.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his heart breaking. He’d never felt such pain before.
Her breath caught and for a moment he thought she might bend to him. Surrender to the emotions he knew had become a part of their every moment together. But they frightened her too much. After everything her parents had done, her husband had done…he had done, she had no faith in feelings.
“I must,” she whimpered at last. “Please don’t make it harder, Theo.”
He bent his head. Every instinct in him told him that he should catch her hand and demand to explain himself and tell her that he loved her until she could hear nothing else. But he thought of Roarke’s reminder that this woman had been forced into every situation she’d encountered in her whole life. And if he wished to win her, it would have to be on her terms.
He would surrender this day. But he would not give up the war until he was nothing but dust.
“If ending things will help you,” he said, his voice trembling, “then I won’t stop you. I won’t make you be or do anything you aren’t ready for. But I’m here, Etta. Please know I’m here and I’m going to be here until you are ready.”
That seemed to surprise her, but she didn’t respond to it.
“Shall I drive you home?” he asked, trying to keep things calm and cool.
“No,” she said, too quickly. “If you allow me the use of your carriage, I can make it home fine.”
Once again, he felt a powerful desire to refuse her that. To tell her not to go without him. But he didn’t. He got up and put himself back into place as best he could, then sighed and unlocked the door before he rang the bell. “I’ll arrange for the carriage.”
As he stepped out of the room, he felt his face fall and all the worst and heaviest emotions at the idea that he would lose her washed over him. But even as he rang for the carriage, he pushed the wave of anxiety and fear away. She would go and probably distance herself from him for a while.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to try to prove to her, through letters, through gifts, through gentle reminders, that he did want her. Until she was ready to hear it and him.
