And then his mouth engulfed mine, deep plunging swirls of his tongue took me over as he struck his claim. I felt my lower body pool with instant heat, desire and craving sparking to furious life. Ethan showed me how much he did indeed need me.

My hands dove into his hair and gripped it in handfuls, edging the passion up a notch. I heard myself moan as he swallowed me up with even deeper kisses that had me literally shaking with desire. I knew I had to slow things down before it became impossible to stop.

My hands left his hair and found their way to his chest where I barely managed, with Herculean effort, to press him back enough to break our kiss. It was not easy, neither physically nor emotionally. I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in him all night long, but I also had a plan and I intended to see it through.

We both stood there panting, our faces so close, but yet, not touching; him in his tux with the purple brocade vest, me in my vintage-inspired lace wedding dress, the sexual tension crackling in the air between us like a raging electrical storm about to go nuclear.

I told Ethan what I wanted.

“I n-need to get ready for you… Please?” I managed on a shaky breath, hoping he understood this was something important to me.

He swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple flex at his throat. “All right,” he said evenly, as if it were a calculated effort for him to respond to my request without showing me what he really thought of it. I had the feeling he didn’t like being asked to wait some more, but he was agreeing for my sake, because he was sweet like that with me. “I'll do the same then, Mrs. Blackstone.”

“Thank you, Ethan. I’ll make it worth your while.” I stood on my tiptoes and planted a kiss on the side of his bearded neck.

“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” My lips felt the vibration of his growl as he spoke his thoughts. “Everything you do is worth my while, baby.”

I released him and looked back to where the glow from the en-suite bathroom showed me the way. “Where will you go to get ready?” I felt more than a little guilty about kicking him out of the bedroom, even if for just a short while.

“The adjoining bedroom is also very nice.” He gestured toward a door in the wall to the left of the bed. “These old manor houses always had lord and lady connecting bedrooms so they could meet up for the really important, private stuff that happened in the night.” He drew a finger across the low neckline of my bodice, moving especially slow over the swell of my br**sts sitting against the lace of my gown.

“Oh? The important private stuff, you say?”

“Undoubtedly, baby. The shagging…is…very…very…very…important.” He gave me soft, seductive kisses between each of the words.

“Which room are we in right now? Lord’s or lady’s?” I asked breathlessly, feeling like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room.

He shrugged. “No idea. Don’t care, either. I shag and sleep wherever my lady is, and I always will. Pick a room, Mrs. Blackstone.”

He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it in his gallant way, his eyes slipping up seductively to capture another slice of my heart. Who was I kidding? He already had the entire portion…and he always would.

I sighed with need and forced myself to take a step backward, creating some distance between our bodies. My arm stretched out as I slid back, my hand still clasped in his much bigger one. “Okay…how does this room in fifteen minutes sound?” I stepped backward again, moving closer toward the bathroom door, my eyes never leaving his blues as they tracked my movements.

Those same beautiful blue eyes also glittered with all the shuttered heat of a man who would be ravishing me very soon. He allowed my hand to be released from his grip; the heat of his skin noticeably absent the second contact was lost.

He gave me the serious Ethan-stare, the one I’d seen many times and was well familiar with by now—the one raw with male prowess…and the overpowering sexual dominance that made me burn.

“Like fifteen minutes too f**king long, my beauty.”

I had to suppress the slight moan that escaped my throat at the effect his words had on me. I was just a mortal woman after all. Ethan was the one who looked and acted like a Greek god to me.

He seared me with another look dripping with the promise of the molten sex to come, before turning away, walking through the door, and closing it with a soft click.

Once he was out, the room was instantly quiet and I felt more than a little bereft without him. I just stood there and absorbed the reality of where I was in the moment. I’m getting ready to make love with my husband. The idea jolted me out of my stupor and sprung me into action pretty fast.

I fled for the bathroom and worked myself out of my dress, which gratefully was not difficult at all with its easy access placement of a side zip. I hung it up carefully on the boudoir hanger which had been arranged, for what I assumed, especially that purpose. I would have to remember to do something nice for Hannah. She’d thought of everything.

I set my veil aside while I brushed my teeth and drank a glass of water. I stripped out of my lingerie, except for the stockings and garter belt in pale lavender silk, and looked at my side profile in the mirror. I had a bump. Not much of one yet, but it was definitely there. I gave our sweet little peach a caress and reached for my veil again. I reattached it and stepped back out into the bedroom. I climbed up onto the raised bed and sank down into the downy softness of the duvet on my knees. I was careful to arrange myself with my back facing the same door Ethan had used when he left the room. He would pass through it again when he returned, and I wanted him to have a first vision of me as I’d planned it out in my head. I was ready even though my heart was racing.

I closed my eyes.

And waited for Ethan to come to me.

THE sounds of the door opening and then closing told me when he was back in the room.

I sensed him staring and the idea gave me a thrill to know what he was seeing of me. I turned my head and found him with my eyes.

“I just want to look at you for a moment,” he said, remaining still, a few feet away. I could tell he was affected—his hooded eyes and the set of his jaw—and that knowledge emboldened me.

“Only if I can do the same.”

My Ethan had prepared for me as well. The beautiful tuxedo with the purple brocade vest had gone the same way of my wedding dress probably. In its place just one garment. Silky black pajama bottoms slung low at his waist. The contrast of the black fabric to his skin displayed his golden muscled chest and carved abdomen to perfection. And I got to drink him in. The muscular cuts which tapered into a spectacular V below his waist made my mouth water, forcing me to swallow. One of the most beautiful parts of my man. I needed my mouth there.