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“Can it wait?”

“No. It intimately concerns tonight.”

He lifted his head an inch. “What is it?”

“Last night, why did you not…I mean to say, I most certainly…” She moved her hand vaguely through the air, avoiding his eye. “And you most certainly did not…” She tugged on her gown. “Why?”

“Why did I not swive you last night?” he clarified, blunt as always.

Direct as always.

Honest as always.

“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “That is my question.”

He wiped a hand over his face and looked over her shoulder a moment. “I’ve seen and done too much ruination in my life, Cassia. I do not want to ruin you, too.”

She put her hands on his chest and peered into his eyes anxiously. “But you will ruin me tonight, won’t you?”

His body stilled, then started moving in little shakes, up and down. Dear God, he was laughing. Full on, rumbling masculine laughter. His entire mouth was involved in this laugh—no half smiles or cryptic quirks here. He threw his head back and laughed some more.

He was the most beautiful being she’d ever seen.

Her heart expanded.

But she still did not see why this question was so amusing. It was not funny at all to her.

She desperately wanted to be ruined tonight.

The laughter lingered in the ease of his eyes, the relaxed curve of his mouth, the way he was looking at her, with something, maybe, more than simple desire?

What she felt for him was far, far more than that.

“Is that what you want, Cassia?” He slid his open hands up the sides of her body and began tugging on the laces again. “You want me to ruin you tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughed again, softer this time, and slid one of the silk lacings free.

She was immediately wet and ready for him. She’d been ready for him all day. Ready her whole life.

“How bad?”

“Very, very badly.”

“I mean to say, how bad do you want to be, Cassia?”

A vicious, beautiful pulse of pleasure snapped through her. “Very?” she whispered.

His eyes held hers as he slid the other lacing free. “Take it off.”

She dragged the overtunic over her head, and together they took off the undertunic and chemise. She sat naked on his lap, trembling, as his gaze raked over her. He lifted one hand and cupped her breast, his thumb idly stroking it as he continued his leisurely perusal of her body.

She was painfully aroused. It hurt to want this much. A wicked, wonderful hurt.

“Take down your hair.”

She fumbled for the pins and loosed the tresses. They fell thickly down her back.

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