He lifted her hand gently.
“Everyone has retired for the night,” he murmured. “No one will see us.”
Tension slid from her shoulders. He led her through the dim corridor, their hands brushing, then tightening together. When they reached the bedchamber, he opened the door for her. She slipped inside; he followed and closed the door softly behind them.
As the latch clicked shut, something inside him shifted—something long-guarded and carefully walled away.
He drew her into his arms again, kissing her slowly, reverently, as though trying to memorise the tenderness of her response. His hands skimmed the linen at her back, feeling her tremble—whether from nerves or anticipation, he could not tell. He kissed her again, lingering, letting her guide the pace.
***
Evelyn gasped as Sebastian’s hands moved down her back, stroking her skin through the translucent nightgown, lingering at her waist in a way that made heat flood to the very core of her. She shut her eyes, loving the feeling of his touch on her body.
His fingers gripped the tie at the neck of her nightgown, and she felt a slight tug and then coolness, and she let him undo it. The gown fell slowly, peeling down to her breasts, where it stopped, caught by the pressure of his body against her. She blushed, but when he stepped back and, with trembling fingers, drew the gaping neck of the gown down to her waist and gazed at her form, she did not feel shy. She gloried in his gaze upon her; in the way it narrowed with desire as it feasted on her curves. It felt wonderful.
He bent forward and, before she had any idea what he was going to do, his one hand drew her close while his lips, gentle and damp, laid a trail of kisses along her collarbone.
She sighed, longing igniting within her as his lips nuzzled gently at her skin. The warm, damp pressure was moving, and she gasped as his lips laid a trail of kisses down her sternum, then stopped.
Without warning, his hand curved over her breast. The sensation was so startlingly intimate that a bolt of heat swept through her, pulling another soft gasp from her lips. He looked up immediately, as though seeking the smallest sign of her wishes. Breathless, she could only nod, her pulse fluttering too wildly to form words.
He bent again, understanding her without speech. His mouth closed gently over her, warm and ardent, his lips drawing softly against her taut peak.
She inhaled sharply, a trail of molten heat racing from her centre outward, consuming her with each slow, deliberate touch. His mouth moved with a tender insistence that unravelled her; the gentle pressure, the warm stroke of his tongue, the faint, teasing graze of his lips—all of it set that inner fire blazing higher. She cried out softly, unable to contain the ache of yearning that surged through her.
He lifted his head at once, his gaze flying to her face, concern plain in his eyes. She shook her head, trying to find the words.
“No... I mean...” She swallowed. “Please don’t stop.”
His expression transformed—concern melting into a slow, delighted grin. He drew her into his arms and lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed. Her nightgown snagged around her waist, billowing about her legs. She wriggled instinctively to free herself of it, and he seemed to understand. Kneeling at the bedside, he caught the hem and drew it down—slowly, very slowly—to her ankles. She blushed, aware of his gaze on her as each inch of her was revealed. Under the gown, she was naked.
His eyes feasted on her, lingering at her smooth thighs, at her waist, at her full hips. She could feel that hot longing in hisgaze as if he was touching her. She gazed up at him, and he gazed down at her, an expression of desire on his face that took her own longing and made it flare hotter than anything she could imagine.
He bent toward her again, repeating the slow, seeking caress that had undone her before. His mouth lingered against her skin, warm and insistent, and she thought she might lose her senses beneath the tenderness of it. One of his hands rose to her peak, teasing with such delicate precision that she hardly felt the pressure itself—only a touch so vivid, so ravishingly gentle, that her mind spiralled into blankness, her nerves awash in sensation until there was nothing left but the pleasure he coaxed from her.
His lips moved lower, and she gasped. They left a trail of fire down her chest, moving lower, more and more insistently, until they reached the parting of her thighs. She gasped again, surprised by how much she wanted him to do what he seemed to wish to do. He sat up, his eyes bright, a smile on his lips.
“Yes,” she whispered.
His outbreath showed her how much he had wanted that answer, and she flushed with delight, then cried out as his lips moved to where the fire of longing had begun to pulse and flare within her.
His mouth lingered on her skin, repeating the motions from earlier in a way that made her moan and thrash lightly on the bed, unable to remain still beneath the warm, insistent attention he gave her. The sensations he drew from her were so vivid—so startling—that she felt as though she were coming undone, every steady breath fracturing into something breathless and new.
He eased her gently, guiding her thighs apart with a tenderness that made her gasp, and bent between them. The closeness of him there—his warmth, his intent focus—sent flashes of pure longing darting through her, making her writhe beneath the rising tide of sensation he awakened.
The feeling gathered quickly, intensely; she could feel it coiling inside her, trembling through her limbs. She drew her knees up, her body shaking as something powerful began to build—strange and unstoppable. The sensations rose and rose, impossible to resist as they swelled higher and higher and then, almost painfully, broke over her all at once, crashing through her like a wild, tumultuous sea.
She cried out, a groan like she had never believed she was capable of making tearing out of her, passing through her as impossible to resist as the cresting waves of pleasure that were crashing through her again and again, making her gasp and draw her knees up like a convulsion.
Sebastian straightened up, and through the haze of pleasure that was filling her mind, she was dimly aware of him stretching beside her on the bed for a moment, embracing her closely, and then sitting and beginning, swiftly, to undress.
Evelyn gazed up at him, her drowsy eyes widening as she saw, revealed, his firm, muscled chest and broad shoulders. His body excited her; all lean angles where hers was soft and yielding. She gazed at him, fresh longing welling up inside her as he undressed methodically and then she could see all of him.
She gazed at him, cheeks flaring in a blush. Some of the whispered conversations that she heard in the corridors at home started to make sense when she saw him revealed. She was surprised, though, that she was not afraid. Her body, already drowsy and sated, was stirring to fresh longing at the sight of the hard angles and firmness of his body.
He came and knelt on the bed beside her. His eyes were wide and wild, and when he looked at her, longing in the depths of his blue stare, she nodded. He smiled, a big grin that dazzled her. Then, he knelt between her legs and, slowly, so carefully, he entered her.
She shut her eyes, the sensation nothing like it had been when his lips tugged so gently at her. This was something different, but she was not afraid. He was moving so gently, almost cautiously, as if he feared to hurt her, and she could see he was concerned. She smiled to reassure him, and he pushed in deeper.
