Beatrice’s entire body tightened.
“Yes.”
One little word that nearly ruined him.
He began moving inside her again while his thumb learned the rhythm that made her breaths quicken. He watched every change in her face—the soft shock, pleasure she couldn’t hide, and that helpless little crease between her eyes when sensation gathered faster than she expected.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Just like that.”
Her hand slid from his lapel to the back of his neck. She was clinging to him.
“Gideon.”
“I know.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I have you.”
And God help him, he did.
Not as he had any right to have her.
But for this moment, she was beneath his hand, open and trembling and trusting him with the very place where another man had taught her terror.
The realization nearly broke hm.
He wanted to kill for her.
He wanted to love her with a gentleness so complete it would leave no room for old darkness.
Love.
He bent and kissed her instead, swallowing the sounds she made as his hand moved beneath her skirts. And, God help him, he felt every reaction. Every shudder, the desperate little shifts of her hips…
Come apart, Beatrice. For me.
“Gideon,” she whispered.
“I know.” His mouth brushed hers. “I’ve got you.”
“I know.” Her fingers dug into the skin on his neck, and her body drew taut beneath him, shaking around his touch. Her breath caught once—then broke.
With a stunned little cry against his mouth and a shudder that moved through her whole body. So… Beautiful. So… precious.
Gideon held her through it, his own restraint stretched to the edge of madness as she clung to him, breathless and trusting and undone.
Mine.
For one suspended moment, there was nothing but the sound of her breathing and the terrifying knowledge that he had never wanted anything more.
Then…
Voices in the hall.
Gideon froze.
A man’s voice. Low. Familiar.
Dash.
BEYOND REASON
