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around the stiff peaks. She writhed beneath him. She moaned. She arched her back: more.
    It seemed he had learned a thing or two during his Grand Tour. She was glad he had spent his time so well. And that was the last thought she had for a while.
    Damien could not touch her enough. A man did not encounter such beauty every day. Or ever. He drew a ragged breath and caressed her endless curves, from her full breasts down to the slight swell of her stomach, dipping into the curve of her waist and then following the flare of her hips. He’d had a hint of this wondrousness years ago. Still, he had fled—perhaps not like a man determined to sow his wild oats, but like a man who knew he wasn’t yet worthy of such beauty.
    She would have been wasted upon him then. But he could appreciate her now, and damn did he ever. He lavished more attention on her breasts—she liked that, he could tell by the sharp intake of her breath and the way her fingers gripped his hair, holding him there.
    Never let me go.
    He pressed kisses upon her belly, lower and lower and lower still. Damien urged her legs apart. As much as he was dying—dying—to bury himself inside her and lose himself in the rhythm of making love he fought to keep himself in check just another moment longer. If she was truly to be the queen of pleasure, then she had to know…
    This, oh G od this was like nothing Susannah had ever known or imagined. His tongue traced a magical pattern around the most exquisitely sensitive spot. Around and around he brought her to slowly and surely to dizzying heights of pleasure. Her breath was fast and shallow now—it echoed in her head, sensations drowning out any other thought, such as it was afternoon and she was a lady and naked on a rogue’s bed. His touch brought her back, attuned only to a fire inside of her that burned brighter and hotter. His tongue made slow, deliberately teasing circles. Dear God, her heart was pounding. Dear lord, she could hardly breathe. Oh heavens, was that her voice shouting out his name?
    Damien . Yes. Damien. More. God. Yes. Damien.
    He could wait no more. His heart was thundering in his chest and his blood was pumping furiously through his veins. His cock had never felt harder and he thought he’d explode just from the sound of his name, in her voice, hoarse with pleasure as she climaxed.
    Damien dragged himself up to kiss her mouth. His cock pressed against her entrance, and he could feel it was warm and wet. He would die if she refused him now. She could wreck him, break him, ruin him now with one word: no. Did she know the power she held over him?
    “Susannah…”
    She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him slowly.
    He pressed against her entrance. So warm. So wet. He wanted, needed, would die if he couldn’t sheath himself inside of her completely.
    “Yes,” she gasped.  And any thoughts of going slowly or gently were lost as he buried himself inside of her. She shouted out. He might have done too. She was tight around him. Gasping from the pleasure. Their mouths collided for a desperate kiss.
    Then driven by an instinct he could not deny, he thrust long and slow and hard and she met him each time with the movement of her hips. Her breaths matched his. They were one. Just one. It was everything.
    They were one. Just one. This man with whom she’d battled her whole life…in this they were united. She felt shock. She felt joy. She felt the slightest pain and the greatest pleasure. The uncertainty was oddly thrilling—she did not know what to expect. She felt absolute trust—he would never, never hurt her. She could just lie back and claim him as he claimed her.
    Damien was losing himself completely and utterly. He held on tight, one hand holding hers, pining it to the mattress. He couldn’t let her get away. He laced the fingers of his other hand through her hair and it tightened in a fist. She moaned. Always pulling her hair, wasn’t he? “Yes,” she panted and he tightened his grasp