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Her hips moved in time with his hand, pulling him deeper, her clit grinding against the heel of his palm.

She writhed against him, frantic, her breathing choppy and uneven.

“Yes, my heart,” he whispered. “Use my body. Take your pleasure.”

She came with a loud cry, her body clenching tightly around his fingers. One hand dug into his shoulder while the other fisted in his hair.

Jacob grinned. “Good girl.”

She looked down at him, her eyes clouded with desire.

Jacob straightened, removed his jacket, and laid it on the banister behind her.

She raised questioning eyes to his, but he only grabbed her hips and lifted her, setting her down atop the jacket.

He stepped between her thighs, raising her skirts to reveal her, and she immediately began tugging at his shirt, frantically pulling it off. As soon as she succeeded, her mouth was on his—licking, kissing, biting.

His hand returned to her center, his fingers circling her swollen nub, making her breath hitch. Her hands trailed down his torso, leaving heat in their wake.

Then her fingers found the falls of his breeches, undoing them and freeing his cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, and they both gasped.

Jacob looked into her eyes and saw raw need.

“Take me,” she whispered. “Now. Hard.”

He obliged, entering her in one hard thrust. She cried out, her head falling back, her fingers flexing around his shoulders.

He gripped her hips tightly as he drove into her with exquisite force. She moaned each time their bodies met, digging into his skin—the slight pain only deepening his pleasure.

He withdrew, and she whimpered, reaching for him. But he lifted her from the banister, then turned her to face the dark gardens below. His mouth on her neck, one hand trailed down her belly to the place he longed to fill again.

His fingers played with her there, making her gasp and tremble. Just as he felt her tense in his arms, he thrust into her once more.

He worked her swollen core while pounding into her with renewed urgency. The sounds of their bodies slapping, her cries and whimpers, his gasps—all of it fueled the rising pressure inside him.

It built and collected inside him until it finally burst with violent force.

* * *

Jacob covered Honoria with his jacket, not only to keep her warm but also to conceal the gaping tear in her bodice.

“If you continue doing that,” Honoria said quietly, “the modiste will have enough work just from mending my gowns.”

He let out a chuckle. “Perhaps she should design one better, so I don’t have to. Add buttons to the front, perhaps?”

Honoria laughed. A gorgeous sound. He’d missed it so much.

Jacob brushed a lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Are you ready to go home now?”

“Mmm.” She let out a pleasant rumbling sound and buried her face in his bare chest. “No.”

He chuckled. “Children are waiting for you.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be sleeping at this hour?” she murmured against his skin.

“I think today is the exception.”

She grinned and tilted her head up. “Yes, I want to go home. I missed them very much.”