She nodded even as she opened to him.
This was Thea as he’d always dreamed. Sweetly giving, yet demanding in her own right. She began moving, rolling her body against his. He copied her movements, thrust deep, eased out, came for her again. It was a dance of lust and desire. A partnership.
Her clothes became an encumbrance. Althoughhe was still fully clothed, he ached to have her naked in his arms. He tugged at her dressing gown, freed her of it and impatiently grabbed her nightdress at the neckline, all but ripping it off her.
Naked, Thea was perfection. Their movements were growing more frenzied. He never wanted to be apart from her, not ever. He buried his head in her breasts, both arms around her waist. Her arms were around his shoulders. She moved harder, faster.
And suddenly, she cried out.
He felt her quicken, her hands gripped his shoulders, her body tightened.
Neal held her fast. She was gasping, repeating his name, whispering words he could not have made out even if he’d had sense, which he did not.
Nothing had ever felt as good as being inside Thea. No woman had ever so completely overpowered him with desire. She was quicksilver and light. She was the stars, the moon, the sun. In this moment, she owned his entire being. He could not imagine himself without her and was loathe to ever let her go.
She was his. Completely.
And he made his claim by burying himself deeper than he’d thought possible and releasing his seed with a force that robbed him of breath.
Her legs encircled his hips. She leaned against him, her body spent, her heart pounding against her chest and matching the racing rhythm of his own.
Slowly, he noticed the coolness of the room, the way the lamp sent flickering shadows around them, their reflection in the mirror. Her straight arms rested on his shoulders, her hands loose and relaxed.
Neal nudged her head where it was snuggled in the crook of his neck. She turned to him and he found her lips. This kiss was even sweeter than the others—and only then did understanding dawn.
Of coursetheir coupling would be unlike any other. There had always been a strong connection between them. His father had realized that. It had been the reason he’d ordered the sixteen-year-old Neal to stop seeing her and sent him to London. Because of her, he’d sat Neal down and told him of the curse—
The curse. How could he have forgotten it?
Neal pulled away from the kiss and came to his feet, almost dropping her to the floor. She caught herself in time and stood.
She gave him a sleepy, seductive smile, her gaze dropping to his spent sex, which was alreadystarting to stir at the sight of her warm, compliant, well-used body.
Dear God, he could have a go at her again. Only this time, he wanted to be naked as well. He could make love to her every hour of every day and still want her more.
Her lips were full and red from his kisses. Her skin radiated a healthy, rosy glow. Her usually properly styled hair was wildly tossed.
There was no other woman on the face of this earth more beautiful to him—and then he realized that he was in danger of falling inlove.
Neal backed away from her, buttoning his breeches.
Dear God, what had he done?
She took a step toward him and he put up a hand. He tried to keep his mind blank, to literally freeze her out of it.
He’d refrained from chasing women not because he’d been circumspect but because he’d compared all of them to Thea. She was the ideal, the epitome ... and he’d fallen in love with her without being conscious of it. Maybe he’d always loved her.
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Thea,” he started but then stopped. What was he going to say? Whatcouldhe say? He’d just rogered herlustily. She was his. She had nowhere to go, and that was his fault as well.
Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. She slid her arms around his waist. His breeches grew tight. “What may I do for you, my lord?” she murmured in a voice so sensual that he had to kiss her—
Neal dived away from her kiss. This was not right. He couldn’t marry Thea.
He must.He was honor bound to do so.
He began backing toward the door. She started to follow him. He moved faster. “Tomorrow, I’ll procure the special license—tomorrow,” he said. “We’d best marry posthaste.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, frowning as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.
