He chased the sound of her sighs, the stuttered rhythm of her breathing, and he held himself back until she came again, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly. Only then did he allow himself to lose control, burying his cock to the hilt as he came hard, moaning her name.

“Viola. Christ.”

He collapsed onto her, bliss still rocking his body and tenderness surging through his heart. He clasped her tightly, unwilling to leave the heat of her. Wanting to stay inside her forever.

He kissed her throat and she arched her neck.

“Are you . . . humming?” he asked, lifting his head.

“I didn’t realize I was. But it’s . . . oh, West, it felt so good, and strange, and right and I heard music as you moved inside me. As I moved with you. I want to write it down.”

“You’ll just have to remember it. I’m not letting you out of my grasp.” He held her closer, inhaling her sweet, womanly fragrance. Listening to her humming softly, composing a new melody.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Viola said, basking in the feeling of being held in his arms, cherished and safe.

“I know. It feels so right.”

“Doesn’t it?”

She lay in his arms for a few more golden, pleasure-soaked moments. And then the call of nature interrupted.

“West?”

“Mmmm.”

“I need to relieve myself.”

He unclasped his arms. “Go through that door,” he said sleepily, motioning to the door with his head.

“You’ve done this before.”

“What have I done?”

“Taken a woman here while Rafe was gone. You said that you were both wild rakes.”

“I may have.”

It only confirmed what she knew to be true—but the thought of him being her very first, and her just being one in a long line of lovers troubled her.

She performed her ablutions, washing herself carefully, her body feeling tender and swollen, and her mind feeling a little bruised, as well.

She joined him back in the bed and he hugged her close, fitting her against him. “Does that bother you, Viola? I’ve never hidden my wicked past from you.”

“A little,” she said. “I suppose I’m nothing special.”

He stilled. “That’s not true. I’ve never felt like this before. I feel completely new. You’ve remade me, Viola. I’m wholly yours.”

“Mine until the morning light, which is fast approaching.” She didn’t want to speak of his wicked past. This night was her chance to own her power.

To take center stage.

“We still have an hour or so left before dawn. We can . . . talk.” She nestled closer to him. “I want to know more about your past. You never did tell me why your father hated you.”