An Earl by Any Other Name(34)

The hesitant eagerness in his kiss said everything she wanted to know. He hadn't planned this, hadn't expected her to want him after they had quarreled. She adored his confidence, but there was something wonderful in this particular moment to discover that he, too, was unsure and yet as eager to be with her as she was to be with him. Ivy curled her arms around his neck and traced his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to her and moaned when she pressed her body against his.

When she nipped his lips, he growled against her mouth. That seemed to change everything. The desperation, the hunger for connection seemed to overtake him as he deepened the kiss. She was starving for him, for his touch, for the emotions that were evident in his passion. This was so much more than she could have imagined.

His hands swept down her back, over her bottom, clenching it hard and lifting her into him. She was dimly aware that they were moving toward the bed. She didn't protest when he turned her to face the sleeping cot and began unlacing her gown and peeling it off her. She almost laughed at how quickly and determinedly he stripped her of her clothes. The chilly draft hit her skin and her nipples peaked in response to his gaze and the air.

In order to distract herself from the cold, she assisted him in undressing. His shirt was warm and she lifted the garment to her face, burying her nose in it, inhaling his scent. It made her giddy and light-headed. She wanted this, wanted him. Tomorrow she would let him go, let him move on and propose to Miss Pepperwirth, but right now he belonged to her.

Leo took his shirt from her and let it drop to the floor. He was still wearing his trousers, but everything else was blissfully bare to her gaze. Hesitantly, she placed her hands on his chest. He drew her closer, smiling as she smoothed her hands over his ribs, his abdomen, marveling at the way his muscles clenched and flexed beneath her touch.


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"You are beautiful," she whispered, then gave a shaky laugh.

"Me? No, you are the beautiful one." He stroked his fingers down the column of her throat and then traced her collarbone before trailing hands down to her breasts. He cupped one, then the other, testing their weight and kneading softly. His touch made her flush with heat and she arched toward him.

"You like that?" He tweaked one sensitive nipple, and then she responded with a frantic nod. It was too embarrassing to admit aloud.

He seemed to sense her reaction and hear her thoughts because he tipped her head up and met her gaze. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you understand? We are free to explore each other and to enjoy each other. Please trust me, Ivy."

"I do." She meant it. Who she didn't trust was herself. It would be so easy to whisper the words on her tongue. Three words that would change everything. She bit her lip and kept silent.

"Come here." He ushered her to the bed and pulled the thick blankets back. "You first."

She slid in between the sheets, her face still heated with awareness and shyness. Leo unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them down. He was erect and the sight of his innate maleness made her freeze. It looked nothing like the statues and paintings. He was so much larger.

"Ivy, look at me." His low growl drew her stare up to his face. "There will be a little pain, at the beginning. I promise after that, only pleasure."

He joined her in the bed. She expected him to shove her onto her back and take her. But this was Leo and not some callous stranger. Instead, he kissed her, his only focus and purpose on her mouth. He cupped her face in his hands, letting her feel every burning place their bodies touched.

"We will go as slow as you need to, sweetheart." Bending his head, he kissed her.

Like sparks to dry tinder, she sizzled and burned to life. One of his hands stroked her back, caressed her hip, tickled her knee. Her legs fell apart instinctively, and he slid between her thighs. As though aware of how crucial kissing her was, he never broke his lips from hers. For a brief instant, fear seized her as she worried about his weight suffocating her, but he braced himself on one of his forearms. With his other hand, he touched her face, her shoulders, moving his hand farther and farther down her body, gentling her the way he would a horse. When his fingers swept over her heated folds, her body flinched and she gripped his shoulders hard. Every instinct now screamed for her to close herself off, protect herself.

"Easy, sweetheart, easy," he cooed against her ear.

Then he licked the shell of it and a sharp tingle shot from her head clear down her spine. He lifted his hips, guided the head of his shaft to her entrance, and began a slow gentle push into her. Ivy started to tense immediately, but he didn't let her. His kiss hardened, a deep distraction, as he thrust into her.