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Alec pushed himself up, cupping her cheek in one hand. “We’ll work it out as we go.” He kissed her, and she leaned into him, her heart swelling with love for this good, decent man. He could have thought less of her for Edward, or been like Edward, who had never once expressed any concern for her comfort.

“Do you pleasure yourself?” he murmured, brushing kisses across her face.

“Oh,” she squeaked. It was confession enough.

His eyes seemed to snap like lightning. “Show me.”

“But you⁠—”

“I cannot think of anything I want to see more in this world, love.”

The last word did it. She leaned back, propping up one knee, and licked her two fingers. Alec flinched, staring at her fingers as she reached down to touch herself. Cressida put her head back and closed her eyes, as she usually did, but inside her head she imagined him watching. She fairly flew toward climax, and when she opened her eyes, hovering near the brink, it was to find he had shucked the rest of his clothing and was still watching her, one hand gripping the bedpost so hard his muscles bulged. “That’s how,” she gasped.

He glanced at her in question, his face fierce. She nodded and he put his hand over hers. His fingers were larger than hers, stronger, and when he stroked her, she pulled her hand away and fell backward, giving herself up to the bubble of pleasure rising inside her. “Alec,” she sobbed. “You—Now—Please⁠—”

The mattress dipped as he moved, then he pulled her to the edge of the bed. Keeping one arm hooked under her knee, as if he knew she liked it that way, he resumed stroking her at the same time he pushed into her.

Cressida gasped, clutching at him. He paused, but she shook her head wildly. That gasp had been one of pure carnal want. Incapable of speech, she squeezed his wrist and raised her hips to meet his next thrust.

It didn’t hurt. The fullness amplified the effects of his wicked thumb and she thrashed, shaking, as he moved against her. It was needy and hungry, as if neither could hold back. He let go of her knee so he could cup her breast, rolling his thumb across the nipple before lowering his head to take it into his mouth. Cressida ran her hands over his shoulders and arms, scraping her nails along the muscles that bunched and stretched as he moved inside her, filling her body and her heart, and the bubbles of pleasure swelled into a wave that swamped her in a sparkling burst of ecstasy that left her sobbing, laughing, tingling all over.

Alec's hands settled on her hips and he changed his rhythm, angling his hips to drive into her differently. As Cressida started to regain her senses, he gave a harsh exclamation and pulled back. He leaned down and kissed her, scorching and demanding, and his body quaked in her arms as he spent himself again her belly. She cupped his face in both hands and kissed him back. His face was damp—with sweat, but also, maybe, tears.

Cressida squeezed her eyes closed, arms tight around him. She didn't want to leave his arms, or this bed. If this night was all she ever had with him, she would never be sorry. She loved him, and she was willing to risk ruin and heartbreak.

Alec raised his head and looked down at her. The unflappable, impenetrable man was gone; this Alec gazed at her with clear, soft eyes, his face flushed with passion, a wondering little smile on his lips. He kissed her tenderly, then disentangled himself. He cleaned her stomach with his discarded shirt, then crawled into bed and pulled her against him.

"This is not over," he murmured against her shoulder. “Please. I want—not just tonight⁠—"

Her heart swelled with more happiness than she had ever felt in her life. “Yes,” she whispered. “So do I.”

His arms tightened around her, and he exhaled softly. Within a few minutes his breathing relaxed into sleep, and Cressida settled against him in silent bliss, feeling completely at peace for the first time in months.

I want more, too. I want forever.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He came awake suddenly, with the sense that someone was watching him. From long habit Alec lay perfectly still, listening, only to realize within a moment who must be watching him intently enough to wake him.

She had rolled onto her side and propped her head on one arm. Her hair was loose around her bare shoulders and breasts. In the faint glow of dawn she was beautiful, and Alec’s heart took an unexpected leap at the sight of her. He could easily become accustomed to waking up to this sight.

But her eyes were somber, and her lush mouth turned down. Belatedly he realized she was staring at the long scars that crossed his chest. It had been too dark to see them when he pulled off his shirt.

“They don’t hurt,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“They must have, once.”

“Long ago.”

Finally she raised her eyes to his. “You suffered much more than you want anyone here to know, didn’t you?”

Alec shook his head. “Not from these.” He fingered the worst scar, the one that ran from his collarbone down over his ribs. “Not even this one.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His muscles tensed as she ran her fingers down the same scar. “I was unconscious most of the time that one was at its worst.”

Even though she smiled a little, he sensed her hurt. “You don’t have to tell me. Everyone has their secrets, and we don’t even know each other that well⁠—”