She stroked him several times before she answered, the whisper filled with desire. “Yes.”

I love you.

No. It would only bring them both pain.

He reached for her, sliding one finger into her, slick from his mouth and her desire. “I like your pretty pink lips.”

She laughed at the words, breathless. He slid one finger deep into her tight, dark channel, and the laugh became a gasp. He looked up at her. “And I would like very much to be inside you.”

She met his eyes. “I want that, too.”

He kissed her, then set his forehead to hers as she placed him where she wanted him, at the entrance to her, and he bit back a curse at the sensation, so hot and wet – for him. He eased into her, so tight, and she sucked in a breath. He met her eyes, registering the discomfort there. “Georgiana?” he asked, something unsettling him even as he thought he might die from the pleasure of her.

She shook her head. “It is fine.”

Except it wasn’t. She was in pain. He eased back.

She clamped her legs around his waist. “No. Please. Now.”

If he didn’t know better…

She pulled him closer, and he lost the thought until her breath hitched again. “Stop,” he said. “Let me…”

He pulled back, then rocked in again, in short, gentle slides, each deeper than the last, until he was deep inside her, buried to the hilt. “Yes,” she whispered as he bent and placed a long, lingering kiss to the place where her neck met her shoulder. “Yes.”

He could not have said it better himself.

He pulled back, met her eyes. “Is it —?”

She leaned up and kissed him, letting her tongue slide between his lips in a stunning kiss. When it was through, she said, “It is magnificent.” Then she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him back enough to look down between them. “Look at us.”

He did, following her gaze, and he felt himself grow even harder, deep inside her. She inhaled, then smiled. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, sir.”

Christ. He loved her.

He wanted her. Playful. Brilliant. Beautiful. Sinful.

Forever.

He matched her smile with his own. “I can think of ways I would enjoy myself more.”

She placed her hands at the curve of his buttocks and squeezed. He groaned. “Show me.”

And he did.

He moved in deep, decadent strokes, and she matched him, lifting her long legs, his name on her lips like a mantra, first soft and barely there, and then a cry of pleasure, making him wish this moment would never end. He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her close as he thrust, and her hands came to his shoulders, wrapping tightly around him as she cried out for him.

As though he would leave her.

As though it were possible for him to leave her.

He would never leave her.

She pulled back at the last moment, as he thrust fast and strong against her. She met his gaze. “Now,” she said, the word full of desire and wonder, hinting at something he would be able to grasp if his head weren’t so damn full of her. “Now.”

Now, indeed.

She fell into pleasure, tight and perfect around him, with such power that he thought he might not survive it. She called his name as he thrust once, twice, hard and fast and glorious until his release raced toward him, and he pulled out of her, coming hard and fast and like nothing he’d ever experienced.

As one.

And he knew, instantly, that he had not ruined her for other men.

She had ruined him for other women. For life.

He pulled away, and she sighed a protest at his departure, making him ache for her once more. He wasn’t ready to leave her, but he fastened his trousers loosely, and removed a handkerchief, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to one of the large chairs on the far side of the room before settling her into his lap and cleaning her.

“You didn’t…” she trailed off.

“I didn’t think you would want the risk.” Not that he didn’t secretly enjoy the idea – a collection of tiny blond children with their mother’s pretty amber eyes. “You did not choose the last time. You should choose the next.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and he pulled her close, wanting to keep her safe now. Forever.

Christ. That word again.

She curled into him as he stroked his hands over her beautiful, soft skin, replaying the event in his mind as their breathing returned to normal, turning over her words, her movements, her sounds.

The moments of surprise. Of wonder. Of desire.

Of discomfort.

Realization dawned.

She lifted her head when his hands stilled on her. “What is it?”

He shook his head, not wanting to answer.

Not wanting it to be true.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Tell me.”

I have not… with anyone…

She’d said it. He simply hadn’t believed her.

Who was she?

What game did she play?

What game did Chase play?

He met her eyes, noting the openness there, the honesty. So rare. Something must have shown in his own gaze, because hers went wary. “Duncan?”

He didn’t want to say it, and yet, he could not stop himself. “You’re not a whore.”

Chapter 17

… It is a constant surprise to this publication that Lady G— was so easily dismissed for nearly a decade. What we would not offer for a peek into the lady’s past! Alas, we shall have to settle for watching her bright future…

… Several critical votes are before the Houses of Parliament this week. The owner of this very paper is a vocal proponent of setting clear limits for child labor, and watches carefully as this great Nation’s leaders decide the fate of her youngest citizens…