Not triumphant or self-satisfied. But purposeful, fully conscious of…
Of her.
“Still good?” he asked, his voice rougher now. Watching her reaction as though it mattered more than anything else.
“Yes.”
His thumb moved over her through the fabric, weakening her knees.
Gideon shifted closer at once, steadying her against the tree.
“I should stop,” he murmured against her skin.
Beatrice could only shake her head, tilting her hips forward.
The movement brought the full length of him against her.
Hard. Unmistakable.
Even through layers of clothing, she could feel him pressing against her stomach. The realization of what she did to him—what this did to him—weakened her knees even more.
Gideon exhaled unsteadily. And as he eased the fabric of her bodice lower, cool air met the heated flush of her breast.
She shivered.
Again, his gaze lifted briefly to hers.
Beatrice nodded, and then watched as he oh, so slowly dipped his head to claim her with his mouth.
Warm. Wet.
Nothing like anything she’d ever imagined.
When his lips closed around one peak, her eyes fluttered closed and she all but collapsed against the tree. As sensations pulled low through her body, her fingers tightened helplessly on his shoulders.
“Oh—”
She did not pull away— instead, she pressed closer—and he gave her a little more of him. The deep pull of his mouth. The rough scrape of his jaw against the sensitive underside of her breast.
And that warm pressure of his tongue… seemed to travel through her entire body. So much… desire. Low in her stomach.
“Gideon…”
This was different than the drawing room.
Then, she had overwhelmed herself. This time?—
This time he guided the pace, he explored… careful and deliberate, drawing sensation from her piece by piece until she scarcely knew how to breathe.
“Beatrice.” His voice sounded strained now. Almost raw.
Gideon pressed his forehead briefly against her shoulder, his breath uneven against her skin.
She could feel his heart racing.
“God help me,” he whispered. The words were not playful. They sounded torn from him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Again?” she asked.
