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“Am I doing this right?” she asked.

“Yes…” he said in a strained voice. “Heavens, yes.”

As she saw him share in her bliss, the need to be one became so strong she couldn’t breathe.

“Take me, Richard…”

“What?” he murmured, his eyes opening.

“Take me. However it works, I want it. I want you. You said I was ready for you. I’m wet for you. I want to know what it’s like. Whatever it is I’m ready for, I want you to do it.”

He cursed under his breath. “Janie, you have no idea… If I do it…I want to, God Almighty, I want you so much, I’m about to burst. But I’ll be taking your virtue.”

She slid her hands over his hard chest. She was ready to give anything for him to lie on top of her again, to feel those hard muscles covering her. “I know. Take my virtue. I wouldn’t want anyone else to take it.”

He cursed again, oaths even more foul now. “I’m a bad man, love. I shouldn’t do it. But the truth is I want you too much. I want to have you all for myself.”

He towered over her, the locks of his dark auburn hair hanging over his forehead, his eyes as dark as the night sky, unwavering on her. He looked so intense, he appeared as if he may be both in pain and experiencing the greatest pleasure of his life.

“Spread for me, love,” he said gently.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, her sex clenching impatiently. With his erection in his palm, he positioned himself in front of her entrance and circled her wet sex with the tip, spilling liquid pleasure through her. She moved her hips, chasing this pleasure. She could burst, just from this.

“It might hurt, Jane,” he said. “But it’ll only hurt for a short time. And if you want me to stop at any moment, just say so.”

She licked her lips and nodded. She didn’t believe it would hurt at all—how could it when everything he had done up to now was pure bliss?

He pressed into her, stretching her. The hard muscles of his arms strained and bulged as he supported his weight. Then he started to gently, slowly, with very tiny thrusts ease himself into her. He kept stretching her, and she kept wanting him deeper, deeper, deeper inside her. She longed to be one with him…

And then there was a small pinch, and he was inside, and she was full, so deliciously full of him. He grunted as he entered her fully. Their eyes locked—his were so deeply blue and so incredibly beautiful, she could sink in them and never return. There he was, letting her in, deep into his soul.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Should we stop?”

The pinch inside her dissolved and became part of this pleasure of having him for herself, and she was still aching and clenching around him, wanting him to move, to bring her more of that bliss only he could provide.

“No, whatever you do, Richard, do not dare stop,” she said, wrapping her arms around his back and bringing him closer to her with her arms and her legs.

“You will be the death of me,” he murmured.

And then, finally, blessedly, he began to ease in and out of her with deliberate slowness. She moaned, adjusting to this new source of pleasure and pain, bringing her hips to his with every thrust. He angled his hips so that he was now moving against that beautiful spot in her sex that made her see stars, and now he was speeding up. His weight, his scent, the feel of a hard, hot, beautiful male moving inside of her, taking her, owning her was sublime.

He kept moving, thrusting, grunting like a wolf. Locks of his hair fell on his forehead.

And then, all too swiftly, that pent-up sensation within her unraveled, showering her with intense pleasure. She cried out, unable to think as she was consumed, wave after wave crashing into her, rapture pulsing through her.

He pulled out of her and bucked over the bed, his seed spilling on the cover.

When they had calmed, he scooped her limp, sated body into his embrace, and pulled the blanket over them both. She planted a soft kiss on his chest.

Her sex ached.

“I won’t marry anyone,” she said. “You’re my only chance to have this…to have a man touch me…have me as a woman. Please, do not regret that you did this with me. Since I’m not a virgin, there’s no danger for anyone to marry me anyway.”

Richard looked at her with a frown. “I want to marry you,” he reminded her. “Me.”

“I know, Richard,” she said and nestled against his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat under her ear. “We all have our faults.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have any.”