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“I—” He tried to interject, but she could not stop the stream of her words.

“I thought it meant something. But if your intent is to play with my feelings, then you are a cruel, cruel man, and you’ve succeeded in your…” She stumbled for another word but was too upset to come up with anything else but, “cruelty.”

He crossed the space between them in two strides and grabbed her by the shoulders, his large hands spanning the width of her upper arms, warm and strong and sure.

And then he kissed her.

Not the gentle, questioning kiss of the night before, but an urgent kiss, full of passion. Deep. Consuming.

His mouth moved over hers with a hunger that stole her breath, his hands sliding to her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She wound her arms around his neck and drew him close, kissing him back with the need that had simmered within her for weeks… months… years.

“Honoria,” he murmured against her lips, and the sound of her name sent a thrill through her entire body. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Me too.”

Those words seemed to snap the last thread of his control. With a low growl, he pushed her against one of the stone pillars that supported the glasshouse. The cold of it hit her back, but it only sharpened the contrast of his heat against her front.

His mouth claimed hers again, deeper, bolder, more desperate. One hand cupped her breast through the fabric of her dress, his thumb brushing over the peak that hardened beneath his touch. She arched into his hand, a moan escaping her lips, swallowed by his kiss.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Tell me this isn’t what you want, and I’ll stop. I swear it.”

Instead, she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, her fingers fumbling in their haste. “I want this. I want you, Jacob.”

Chapter 18

I want you, Jacob.

The sound of his name on her lips almost made him come right there on the spot.

He cursed softly, pausing a moment to collect the shreds of his control.

“Kiss me,” she begged, and he did. He kissed her mouth, her chin, the delicate line of her throat.

Tasting the salt on her skin, his hands roamed her soft curves, hungry to know every inch of her.

With trembling fingers, he began undoing the buttons down the back of her dress, each one revealing more of the thin chemise beneath, more of her skin to the humid air and his ravenous gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, reverence thick in his voice as he pushed the sleeves of her dress down her arms, letting the bodice fall to her waist.

And she was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The chemise was nearly transparent in the light streaming through the glass, revealing the rosy peaks of her nipples, the curve of her waist.

He bent his head to press a kiss to the swell of her breast, just above the edge of her chemise. She gasped and clutched at his shoulders for support, her knees clearly threatening to give out.

Emboldened by her response, he pushed the chemise down, baring her breasts to his gaze. “Perfect,” he breathed, before taking one nipple into his mouth. Guided by instinct, dying to taste her—all of her—his tongue circled her sensitive peak as his hand caressed the other breast.

Honoria arched, her head falling back as she cried out, her body trembling.

His hands moved lower, gathering her skirts, lifting them inch by inch until his fingers found the bare skin of her thigh above her stocking. A gasp. A caress.

His fingers moved higher still…

Cupping her bottom, he lifted her, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. The position pressed her hot center against the hard ridge of his arousal through his trousers, making them both gasp.

“Are you certain?” he asked, breathless, his eyes searching hers.