Evelyn gasped, then smiled in bliss as he drew off her shift with one fluid movement. He lay beside her, his fingertips tracing a path along her inner thigh. She trembled at the touch, heat stirring through her as he eased her gently open, his hand seeking the place that made her breath falter.
When he found it, she moaned—soft, helpless—as he teased her with slow, careful strokes, each one sending warmth unfurling through her, rising from her core to her chest in shimmering waves. The pleasure built swiftly, her body answering his touch with a desperation she could not hide. Her legs quivered; her breath came short; she clutched at him as though she might fly apart.
He must have felt how near she was, for he paused only long enough to shed the rest of his clothing and return to her side.
“My dear,” he murmured, kneeling as he drew her thighs gently apart. She sighed, welcoming him. He positioned himself with care and eased into her, and the sensation stole her breath—the fullness, the closeness, the sheer wonder of it. A cry escaped her before she could stop it.
He moved slowly at first, then with deeper, sure strokes that sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her in mounting waves. Her body arched toward him, helpless to do otherwise; each movement seemed to carry her higher, her breaths breaking into soft cries as the intensity grew. And then—suddenly, overwhelmingly—it crested, sweeping her into a place of breathless, trembling bliss.
Sebastian followed her a moment later, his movements tightening, his breath catching on a low sound as he shuddered and collapsed gently against her.
She wrapped her arms around him at once, savouring the weight of him, the warmth, the safety of being held so completely.
He rolled to his side with care, and she sighed at the loss of his closeness, then nestled against him as he pulled her into his arms. His breath was warm against her cheek; his skin damp from exertion, as hers was. She clung to him, kissed him softly, and gradually drowsiness stole over her.
She drifted in and out, dimly aware of Sebastian’s hand stroking her hair, his lips brushing her temple. She threaded her fingers through his curls, nuzzling closer, and at last slipped into sleep.
“Dearest Evelyn,” he murmured when she woke beside him later. She blinked, disoriented—then memory rushed in, and she smiled. It was still dark; she shifted toward him and kissed him.
He was silent for a moment before speaking again.
“Dearest Evelyn… I am so sorry I was such a fool. I feared that loving you would weaken me. Had I been honest—with you, and with myself—I would have confessed long ago that I wanted you from the moment I first met you.”
Her heart swelled. “Oh, Sebastian… me too,” she whispered.
“Really?” His blue eyes brightened with delight.
“Yes,” she said shyly, heat rising in her cheeks. When she looked up again, he was smiling with such boyish wonder that she had to laugh.
“You know, I never imagined it,” he admitted, sounding almost bashful.
Evelyn giggled. “Truly?”
“I never would have believed you could feel anything for me that matched what I felt for you,” he said softly.
“No!” Evelyn laughed, astonished. “A handsome man like you?” The words slipped out—she clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified.
His grin was dazzling. “I shall treasure that forever,” he murmured. “And may I say in return that you are a beautiful woman? A very, very beautiful—and enchanting—woman.”
Warmth flooded her entire body. “Thank you,” she managed.
“My pleasure.” He kissed her again, lightly, sweetly. She giggled, and he gathered her close, peppering her face, her neck, her shoulders with affectionate kisses until she was laughing breathlessly. At last, he wrapped his arms around her and held her still.
“We must rest, sweet lady,” he whispered against her ear. “Tomorrow we must wake restored and strong.”
“Yes,” Evelyn breathed. “Yes.”
She curled against him, resting her head on the pillow beside his. His warmth pressed against her; his breathing rose and fell in a steady, soothing rhythm. Filled with safety and a deep, glowing contentment, she drifted slowly into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sebastian woke to the steady rise and fall of soft breathing. He rolled carefully onto his side and opened his eyes—and wonder washed through him. Evelyn slept beside him, her face relaxed, peaceful, touched by the early sunlight that filtered through the net curtains. Her lashes lay dark against her cheeks; her lips were faintly parted. She looked unreal—like something painted, serene and impossibly lovely.
He sat up slowly, not wishing to wake her, and gently pulled the coverlet over her shoulder where it had slipped. His gaze lingered on her satin-smooth skin, and a fierce longing rose in him to slip beneath the blankets and claim her again. Instead, he tore his eyes away, not wanting to be too aroused, and stood up. His ankle ached, and he recalled the previous day vividly. She stirred as he walked to the chair where he had discarded his clothing, and when he turned around, Evelyn was gazing into his eyes. He smiled and blushed, feeling acutely aware of his own nakedness.
“Good day,” he murmured, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.
“Good day,” Evelyn answered softly, shyly.
