A beautiful story, but she didn’t understand how it related to everything else. “And that’s honorable. Because you helped a doorman?”
“Because I see how actions affect everyone else. I think ahead, and I choose a path that causes the least suffering.”
She touched his face. “Or perhaps the most joy?”
He shook his head. “Joy is fleeting. Suffering lasts a great deal longer. Do you still feel your quickening?”
Her cheeks flushed in memory. “Not that exactly, but I am happy to be here with you.”
He nodded. “And I with you. But if I were to take my pleasure with you now, that would give me great joy—”
She grinned. “Then—”
“But the future would hold suffering. You might regret your choice in the morning. And if there was a babe, how would you explain that? I don’t want to father a bastard.”
She shook her head. “Babes can be prevented in other ways.” She’d learned that at the beginning of her marriage when she hadn’t wanted a child. “And even if I regret my actions, I would never blame you.”
He sighed as he lifted her hand to his lips. “Don’t you see? I want my choices to have meaning. If I were to lay with you now, it wouldn’t have meaning. Just lust.”
It would have meant something to her. To make love with someone by her choice would have been a momentous thing for her. But once again, someone else forced his choices upon her, and she resented it.
“I chose you tonight,” she said, and though she tried to hide her anger from him, he likely heard it anyway. “I may not do it again.”
“To give in to my lust now would betray my own honor. I will not risk our future on the needs of the moment.”
“Even if they are my needs?” she challenged. Then she held up her hand to stop him from talking. “I have spent my life measuring my life by other people’s demands. Tonight, I choose for myself and no one else.” He didn’t respond, but then again, he didn’t need to. Making love was a choice made by two people, not just herself alone. She blew out a sigh. “I will not damn you for making another choice.”
His expression softened. “You act as if my heart isn’t pounding for you. It would be so easy for me to fall.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not acting as if that’s true.” Was it a crime for her to wonder at her own attractiveness? She was a matron now and not as dewy fresh as the eighteen-year-old debutantes. “As Lord Chellam, you will have your choice in brides this Season.”
He wrapped her hand in his good one, then slowly drew it down his body. He pressed it to the hot bulge beneath his falls, and she heard his hiss as her hand began to shape the length and breadth of his cock.
“I want you,” he whispered. “I have wanted you since the day we first met.”
She took her time feeling him. The heat was intense but more interesting was the way his head dropped back, and his breath stuttered as she played. Even through the protection of his clothing, she found where he was sensitive. She learned a little about how he liked to be touched.
“Would you like it?” she asked. “If I did to you what you did to me?”
His eyes widened. “How do you know of such things?”
She arched a brow at him. “I was married for twelve years.”
“But you…” He swallowed. “Diana, I do not want to risk our future. I do not want to go too quickly—” His words were strangled off as she unbuttoned his clothing.
“My choice,” she said. Then she bent her head to him.
This was an intimacy she knew, but the differences were clear. His musk was intriguing, the shape and power of what she kissed obvious, but what startled her was the joy it gave her to pleasure him. She listened to his sounds, felt the shudder that went through him when she engulfed him and knew the exact moment when he surrendered to what she made him feel. He released a low groan that rolled through his body into hers, and his hips began to pump in earnest. She grew wet as he lost himself in her. And she found her own delight when his fingers cupped her breast and pinched her nipple.
Heat coiled through her. Hunger made her ache. And when he pulled her off him and caught his release in a handkerchief, she found herself watching him with hunger. His chest heaved, and his hands shook.
He wrapped his hand around her head and pulled her close for a kiss. And while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she felt his hand slip between her thighs. Still wet. Still sensitive. He worked her with his fingers, while she gasped into his kiss.
Quickening. Again!
Heat. Bliss.
Him.
