Titus shrugged. “It was about to get significantly worse than it had been, since the ladies left. I daresay I shall not be missed.”
“Ah.” Abigail continued to work on his neck, but he did not seem to be relaxing any. When he suddenly let himself fall backward onto the mattress with a huge sigh, she had to laugh. “You should see yourself, Titus. You did not look so exhausted when you had stayed up with me all night through my labor.”
Titus smiled, eyes closed, and reached up blindly. Abigail took his hand in hers, though she was not sure if he was asking for help up again or simply wanting contact. She tugged lightly on his arm to see if he would assist her in the former goal, but he only chuckled at her attempt and, with one good tug, pulled her down with him instead. Though she laughed, her heart accelerated dangerously.
“You are a defeatist.” She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to lever herself up. It was an impossible task, given the arm he had around her. “You need to sleep this off. I should go call your manservant to help you undress.”
Titus’s eyes had drifted open again, a half-smile played on his lips. He held her right where she was. “Perhaps you should help me yourself, beloved.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes. “You have definitely had too much to drink.”
“Or not enough.” His smile turned roguish.
“Either way, I shall simply ignore that indiscreet comment so that you can look me in the eye in the morning.”
“I can look you in the eye, now.” He propped himself up on his elbow and attempted to prove it. But she could not meet his gaze, not knowing what she would see within it. Abigail cast her eyes downward, even when he put a finger under chin to tilt her face up to his. “Abigail.” Still she refused.
A moment later he rolled her onto her back. Her eyes flew open now, which was undoubtedly his intent. But far too much desire filled his gaze, as she had known it would, desire she was not sure she could combat. Heart pounding, she closed her eyes again.
*
Titus caught his breath. Had she learned nothing with Jason? Did she not realize that she looked the height of desirable like this, eyes closed in innocence, lips parted ever so slightly, cheeks flushed? He felt the rise and fall of her breasts under him and let his breath out again. Curse her, if she was going to act this way, what was he to do? He lowered himself until he could taste her lips.
A whimper escaped, one that mixed fear with longing. Just as her hands curled into his tunic as if unable to decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Titus . . .”
“I must have you.” He trailed his lips over her jaw. “I must, beloved, I can take it no more.”
She gave one halfhearted push at his shoulder, shook her head. “Titus, no. You yourself said it would not come to this, that our love did not need consummation.”
Titus met her watery gaze for a moment. “Since when am I the one to always be right?” He kissed her again, refusing to release her mouth until her hands clung to him. “We love each other so much, Abigail. What could be more natural than this?”
He had slid his hands up her sides, taking her arms with them and anchoring them above her head with one hand, then toying with her hair with the other. Her breath caught in obvious pleasure even as a tear spilled onto her cheek. “Do not try to tell me this is right, Titus. You know it is a sin. It is wrong.”
“Perhaps,” he whispered into her ear as he took the lobe into his mouth. “But feel it, Abigail. Is it not good?”
“Good and wrong cannot coincide.” She trembled. From fear, desire, or the battle between them? “Pleasure is fleeting.”
“That depends entirely upon how much of it you have scheduled.” He smiled against her mouth, though it soon faded into another kiss. “I have never wanted a woman as I want you, my love, and I will have you. Tonight.”
Her entire body went rigid. “Will you force me, Titus?”
He met her gaze head on. “Will you make me, Abigail?”
She sagged back into the mattress under him. “If you do this, I will hate you in the morning.”
He smiled and kissed her gently. Hovering over her mouth he whispered, “You will not hate me, my love. You cannot. Your heart is mine, and nothing can change that. No matter what I do, you will love me, and you will forgive me.”
More tears spilled over. “You are not being the man I love.”
“I am the man I have always been.” He kissed away the droplets. “And yet you love me.”
“Titus–”
“Hush.” He kissed her into obedience, kissed her until she kissed him back, kissed her until she was pliable. He kissed her as he undressed her, as he awoke her, as he took her. And then he held her close as she sobbed against him, held her until she had cried herself to sleep. Then he leaned over, blew out the lamp, and held her all through the night.
Chapter Thirty-Nine