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“What did I say, love?”

She was so close.

“Open your eyes and tell me. What did I say?”

His cock strained as Emma’s breathing became faster and she struggled to open her eyes.

When she did, he nearly lost himself. The passion there matched his own so completely. “You said neither you nor I would ever feel that way again in our lives.”

He remembered it well. And at the time, he’d believed that.

Increasing the pressure, he vowed to prove himself wrong.

Now.

Emma throbbed beneath his fingers, but he would not relent.

“And was I right, my love?”

She clenched and squeezed, and he withdrew his hand, pulling her close enough to feel his need.

“Nay, you were not.” Emma opened her eyes. “I felt it again, just now. Exactly the same.”

Garrick stepped back and removed his tunic. Still watching her, he removed every piece of clothing, exposing himself to her completely.

Eyes round, Emma looked down. “Is it always—”

“When you’re near me? Aye.” He took a step toward her, reached down, and in one quick movement lifted the chemise above her head. Groaning, he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Garrick?”

He glanced down at her breasts. He would start there. “Aye, love?”

He reached for her, but Emma backed away. He’d hoped to distract her enough for her to forget about being worried.

“I don’t think—” She stopped, having reached the bed.

He stopped as well, and though he nearly exploded with the effort, Garrick didn’t move. He didn’t talk. He didn’t advance.

Instead, he simply watched her, waiting for her to take the lead. Looked at her beautiful breasts that he ached to touch. Glanced down and imagined himself inside her. But still, he didn’t move.

Someday, he’d think back on this night in amusement at the sheer physical pain of holding himself away from her.

Someday. But not tonight.

Oh God, Emma. I can’t wait much longer.

“Take me,” she said.

He’d never heard more beautiful words in his life.

* * *

When he lifted her onto the bed and laid her head against the long, soft bolster that she typically tossed on the floor each night, Emma forgot to worry. Well, mayhap a small part of her wondered how the long, hard length of him could possibly fit inside her. But more than anything, she just wanted to know what it felt like to truly be one with him.

She concentrated on the ridges of muscle on his stomach. Touching him there as he propped himself above her, Emma moved her hands to his shoulders, exploring. Every so often, a flicker of candlelight illuminated a different part of him that she hadn’t seen closely before. If she could sit up, she’d kiss each and every place her fingertips traced.

Then she glanced down.