Ash stilled.
For the first time since stepping into this room, something in him stopped short, like a carriage horse rearing back at an unseen drop-off.
“Love?” He said the word as if it were foreign to him.
Her gaze flickered away. “I cannot continue this affair unless you agree.” She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling. “You must swear it.”
Ash exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his body still tight with need. “No love,” he said finally, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “Fine. I agree.”
Relief crossed her face. “Good.”
But as he took her in his arms again, as he stripped her bare, as he tied her wrists above her head and made her gasp his name, something dark and dangerous twisted in his chest.
Because, damn it all, love had never even crossed his mind.
Not until she told him it was impossible.
And now?
Now, it was all he could think about.
Oh, hell. He was so screwed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The next time they met at the club, there was no pretense. No veiled glances. No lingering innuendo. Just the quiet, thrilling understanding that had built between them, simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
Ash watched her from across the room, the flickering candlelight playing over her features as she played faro, winning round after round with effortless grace. But she wasn’t looking at the cards. Not really. Every now and then, her gaze flicked to him—small, fleeting moments, but each one sent a pulse of heat through him.
And then, without a word, they left together.
Upstairs, the air between them was thick with expectation. As soon as the door shut behind them, she was in his arms, their bodies colliding with a force that had been held back for too long. Clare barely had time to gasp before Ash lifted her, carried her to the bed, and laid her down upon it. Firelight cast flickering shadows along the walls, painting her golden against the dark.
She arched a brow, breathless, teasing. “What took you so long?”
He locked the door with a soft click. “Two seconds is too long to be away from you.” His voice was low, roughened by the hunger that had haunted him all evening.
She reached for him, but he was already moving, lowering himself onto the mattress beside her. His heat seeped into her skin before his lips ever touched her, and when they finally did—when he kissed her—she melted into him as if she had been waiting for this moment forever.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Ash could see it in the way her chest rose and fell too quickly, the way her pupils were blown wide with something wild. But before he could claim her, she did something unexpected.
Leaning back against the pillows, she trailed one delicate hand down her body, her fingers skimming the curve of her waist before slipping lower.
His pulse thundered.
“Teasing me, love?” His voice was nothing but gravel.
She met his gaze, her eyes dark with challenge. “Would you prefer I didn’t?”
His jaw clenched. God help him, but he had never been so desperate for a woman in his life.
With a sharp exhale, his hands went to the fall of his breeches, undoing the buttons with swift, impatient fingers. He was hard—achingly so—and the sight of her sprawled out before him, touching herself with unabashed confidence, made him throb with need.
Her moans filled the space between them, soft, breathless sounds that made his blood burn. When she reached for him, tugging him toward her, he didn’t hesitate.
With one smooth thrust, he slid inside her, and the world tilted.
