He wanted more. She could feel it in the tight line of his shoulders, the roughness of his breath, and even in the restraint in every movement. He was not exactly treating her as if she might break. He was watching her as if she mattered too much to rush.
That was worse because it made her trust him even more than she already did, which was alot. He rose from the floor and kissed her, his full weight pressing her back into the mattress.
His hips settled between hers, and she understood at once exactly how much he had kept from his face all evening. He was hard, and he made no effort to hide it.
His length pressed against her through his trousers and the thin linen. Her breath left her in a short, startled gasp against his mouth. He moved once, slow and deliberate, and the friction coaxed a sound from her she had not expected.
His mouth curved against hers as he did it again.
“Connor.” His name came out half-warning.
“Aye,” he said, and did it a third time.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she arched into him despite every sensible part of her. She felt him make a low, raw sound at the back of his throat.
He kissed her harder as his hand moved between them. Soon enough, his fingers found the inside of her thigh.
She held her breath, feeling his eyes on her as he moved higher. When he finally touched the heat between her thighs, she turned her face into the rough pillow and bit back the sound that tried to escape her.
He took his time with her, even more thorough than the first time, learning what she liked. Then he applied it while she gripped the blanket with one fist and his wrist with the other and felt her thighs begin to shake.
Then his hand went still, and he pressed a kiss to her hip. Slowly, he moved even lower.
Violet stopped breathing.
His mouth replaced his hand, and she shoved her knuckles against her lips because the sound she made could not reach the floor below. He gave her no warning. He knew what he was doing, and he did it, and she lay in the narrow bed with the rough blanket beneath her and his hands holding her steady and completely lost the thread of every thought she had.
Her fingers found his hair as the pleasure built with an urgency she had no interest in slowing.
Her heels dug into the mattress, and her free hand fisted in the blanket hard enough that the seam bit into her palm. When climax crashed over her, she bit into the pillow and let it move through her like the ocean. Her whole body pulled tight and then released, her breath gone entirely until it wasn’t.
Connor came back up slowly.
He kissed her mouth, and she tasted herself on him. She should have been startled, but for some reason, she wasn’t. His weight settled beside her, one hand splayed on her waist, his breath ragged against her temple.
For a minute, there was nothing but silence. Then Violet rested a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. Her body had settled. Her thoughts had not.
Connor had not asked for more. And that was exactly why she asked the question.
“Connor?”
“Aye?”
She looked at the open neck of his shirt because looking into his eyes would make her courage falter. “What if I’ve rethought me condition?”
Connor went still beneath her.
23
“What if I’ve rethought me condition?” Violet asked.
Connor did not move. He was still close enough to feel the warmth of her skin through the narrow space between them.
Her hair was spread across the rough pillow, damp at the ends from the bath. Color remained high in her cheeks, and her lips looked softer than his self-control preferred. One hand rested against his chest, light enough that he could have pulled back if he chose.
He did not.
His body had answered before sense could take hold. Heat surged through him, hard and immediate. Every part of him knew exactly what she was offering. A wife in his bed, a marriagewith no more rules between them, and her looking up at him with trust in her eyes and fear hidden badly beneath it.
