“You…won?” Her whole body echoed with want, so close to completion that she almost vibrated with need.
“Indeed.” He held up her shift, which he’d untangled from her arms. “I undressed you first.”
She might have argued—if she’d had another night with him, she probably would have. But she had only tonight.
She raised herself up on one elbow. “What do you win? Something wicked?”
“Something wonderful,” he said solemnly.
Yes. She could give him that. Something perfect. Something for tonight, something to remember her by. He took off his coat, his waistcoat. He undid his belt, winking at her as he did. He slid his trousers and smallclothes down, revealing the crumpled tails of his shirt and strong thighs dusted in dark hair, thick-muscled calves. Her mouth went dry.
He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing the planes of his chest at the same time as his thick, hard erection pointing toward her.
He turned away for a moment and then came back.
“Here,” he said, sliding something into her hand. “This is a sheath.”
It was made of a flexible material. Not of animal intestine, as she’d been expecting.
“Vulcanized rubber,” he told her, as if he’d followed the chain of her thoughts, “and if you ask me about the process at this moment, you’ll owe me two ices.”
She couldn’t help but smile in the darkness.
“Here’s my prize. I want you to help me put it on.”
She slid her hand over his penis. It was long and smooth, the shaft firm to her touch.
“It rolls.” His hand came over hers, adjusting the rubber over the head of his cock. It was dark and swollen; she touched it tentatively, and then, when his breath hissed in, with more firmness.
“God, Violet.”
It seemed almost a shame to cover that magnificence—but she did, sliding the material over the head and then down. She reached the end of the sheath—and then realized there was nothing else to do.
Nothing but…
He leaned down and kissed her again, a leisurely kiss, as if they weren’t on the brink of intercourse, as if his limbs weren’t tangled with hers. It was a kiss that made her believe they had all the time in the world.
Lies, those kisses. They had only tonight.
But she let his kisses whisper sweet falsehoods to her. She even allowed herself to believe them—to give herself up to the gentle touch of his hands, the rub of his bare chest against her ni**les, the brush of his c**k against her hip, then her thigh. She let herself sink into a dream in which this might happen on a regular basis.
Not every day; that bore too much risk. But maybe once in a crescent moon, once in a few weeks. Often enough to shine light into the darkest recesses of her memories and sweep away her fears.
By the time he entered her, thrust after patient thrust, it seemed inevitable. Inevitable that he should fill her so. Inevitable that her pleasure would come so swiftly. Inevitable that they should find each other’s hands, clenching them together. It was inevitable that they should join, his hips seeking hers, hers rising to his.
“I love you,” he whispered to her.
I love you, she told him with her caresses, I love you. Her hands twined with his, her body nestled against his. She hoped he could hear how much she loved him. That he’d remember that in the lonely nights that followed.
He never slammed into her. He took her, rocking against her, pushing, coaxing her along until his every motion elicited her gasps, that spark of pure pleasure floating in the air as if struck by a flint.
She caught fire beneath him. Even then he didn’t speed up. He continued through her every last sob, taking every inch of pleasure from her until she was worn out. Only when she was completely sated did he take her hard, his hands holding her hips in place, his thrusts growing harder, faster, his breath becoming ragged—
He pulled out of her and groaned, his hips still pumping.
She could scarcely think, and he’d done it precisely as he’d promised—wearing a sheath, pulling out before the moment of crisis. Not an iota more risk than was necessary. She’d known that he would. Sebastian would never have lied to her about such a thing.
She couldn’t return the favor.
Instead, she reached out and wound his hair around her fingers, bringing her mouth close so that she might brush her lips against his.
One truth. She could give him one truth, even if he wouldn’t believe she’d meant it come the next morning.
“I love you,” she said.
He kissed her back. “I know.”
IT WAS ONLY NATURAL, Sebastian told himself, that Violet would be a little nervous this morning.