Page 74 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

But he hushed her. “Talk to me tomorrow, will you?”

She lay perfectly still. “What do I do now, then?”

“Sigh for me. Moan for me. Tell me you want me.”

“Now, tonight, and all our tomorrows.”

“That is my Zephora, bold, bright, Lady of the Winds.”

“You talk too much.” She turned wicked and pushed the heavy satin from his shoulders to bare the expanse of his magnificent chest and corded arms. “I want you naked, mine, this banyan on the floor, and… Oh my.”

Chapter Twenty

He was so full of his need to show her what he had denied them both that he could not speak.

He did as she asked and discarded his banyan. Her appreciation stunned him. The way her mouth dropped open and her golden eyes glistened in the moonlight slayed him.

But he knew what to do, how to do it. She needed his ardor but also his forbearance. His regard, but also his adoration.

She was so lovely. This young woman who smiled at him and extended a hand was the one he would live with in glee every day of his life. Long, short, however many days he had left, he would ensure he kept her safe, close, and ever smiling.

He went to her, hovering above all that beauty. Every elegant line thrilled him to his toes. “I have never seen such perfection.”

She ran her fingers over his lips and down his throat. “Nor I.”

He kissed his way along her jaw, down her throat, and to the hollow between her breasts. He paused there, swallowing back his impatience. Then he sought her agreement with stern words. “You will tell me how this goes for you.”

“I will.” She arched up, her torso brushing his with encouragement.

He circled his fingers over one firm breast and took her in his mouth.

All satin and fire, she undulated and whispered, “Yes.”

He laved her and she whimpered.

For the other breast, he grew hungry. And so he took her pert, hot nipple between his lips and sucked her up into him.

She opened her thighs and hooked her legs over his hips.

Desire led her. Never had he been so grateful for her ability to meet a new experience, conquer any fears, and take what life gave her. He would not hurt her, and, humbled and honored, he had only self-control to contribute to her introduction to true passion.

Life gave him her. His sob of delight was lodged in his throat.

Her hands drifted to his hips, her own impatience in the move. “Tell me. Take me. Teach me.”

He had to ensure she could take him, that she wanted him enough to enfold him easily, and so he slid one finger, then two, inside her.

She was so ready for him, wet and warm, and he groaned. One day soon, they would play. Many nights from this one forward, they would learn the ways to delight and amuse each other. Tonight was to fulfill the promise of how they loved each other.

He reared back and allowed himself to begin. If she clutched, if she wavered, he would wait. He would wait forever, if need be.

But she put her hands to his hips and moved forward.

His breath left him in a whoosh.

She had him, all of him—and he could do nothing but rejoice and give her more.

*