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In answer, she reached between them, her hand finding the fastening of his trousers. “Yes.”

He kissed her again as she freed him. His cock sprung forward, pressing against the soft heat of her inner thigh. He shifted, positioning his tip against her slick entrance. And gasped.

He was overwhelmed by her heat, her readiness for him.

“You are so hot,” he rasped. “So wet for me.”

So-so wet. And he wanted to drown in her juices.

She moaned, the sound low and needy.

Her reactions to his reassurances only spurred him on.

Unable to wait any longer, he thrust inside her in a single, smooth thrust.

They cried out together, her body arching into him, his eyes falling shut as he filled her completely.

They stayed like that for a moment, breathless. With each exhale, her inner muscles fluttered around his shaft, tightening and releasing.

Fuck. She felt like heaven. Her body, her scent, the sounds she made…

It nearly broke him.

He could not last much longer.

He began to move his hips in an instinctive rhythm, withdrawing slightly before pushing back in.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, feeling her hot breath on his face. “So perfect around me. So tight. So warm.”

“Jacob,” she breathed, her back arching, her head falling back against the pillar, her hips thrusting forward and taking more of him. “I want more. Harder.”

Her words worked like an incantation, a command. He gripped her tighter and moved faster, each thrust deeper, harder, driving into her in full force, marveling at the little sounds she made with his every thrust, feeding on those helpless breathless gasps and whispered pleas.

He lost himself in the rhythm, in her body, in the way she responded to every stroke.

His fingers dug into her buttocks as the pleasure surged, overwhelming him, his hips still moving on their own accord. He held onto her with everything he had as he spilled inside her, a groan torn from his throat.

* * *

Honoria held on to him tightly as he came apart in her arms. She was trembling, her breath ragged, her skin slick with sweat.

She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Not only had he kissed her—he had taken her, right there in his glasshouse.

He was still inside her, his fingers twitching where they gripped her bottom.

Then he looked at her, and for a moment, time stopped. He leaned in, and she met him halfway—their lips touching, their tongues tangling in a slow, sensual kiss.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor that led from the house to the glasshouse. Honoria’s eyes widened in panic. Someone was about to walk in.

Jacob withdrew from her quickly, leaving her empty and aching. He lowered her carefully to the ground, her legs unsteady beneath her. With a swift kiss to her forehead, he nudged her behind a pillar and began fastening his trousers just as the door opened.

Pressed against the stone, facing away from the entrance, Honoria fumbled with her shift and dress, her fingers trembling.

“You have a visitor, my lord,” Mr. Clarke said.

Thank God, it was just the butler. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen anything untoward during his approach. Honoria’s face burned, her entire body still trembling from aftershocks of pleasure and fear.

“Thank you, Mr. Clarke. I’ll meet them in my study.”