The words repeated in her mind, growing louder but still not able to drown the persistent thrum of desire that had overtaken Evie. She was standing on a precipice facing something she’d never encountered: her own passionate response to someone.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” she asked, feeling as though she hadn’t, which was of course absurd. But the nervous tilt of her stomach, the heightened speed of her pulse, and the perspiration beneath her arms and between her breasts reminded her of when she was young, of when she’d been faced with the decision to sell herself.

This was wholly different, even if some of her body’s responses were similar. She knew what would come next physically, but for the first time, she understood there might be more to it than that.

The word “smitten” came back to her from the day before.

“Yes, I’ve kissed someone—rather, someones—before,” he said, his eyes dark with his own desire. “But I want to know how you want to be kissed.” Oh, this was dangerous.

Stepping close to him so that they almost touched, she gingerly placed her hand on his chest. Though she’d done this more times than she could count, she was apprehensive. Her mind kept screaming that this was different. That Lord Gregory was different.

Lord Gregory.

She looked up into his face. “Would you mind if I call you Gregory? You may call me Evie.”

“I would like that very much.” He put his hand on her waist. His touch was light, not nearly what she craved.

And what was that?

For him to grasp her in his arms and haul her against his body so that she could feel him through their clothing. Then to claim her mouth in a searing kiss. Except she was supposed to be the one teaching him.

She had to stand on her toes so she could reach her hand up to cup the back of his neck. “Lean down,” she murmured, heat pooling between her legs, making her sex pulse with want.

He did as she said, lowering his head. His breath was fast, which made hers come even faster.

“Hold me closer,” she said. “With both hands.”

He put his other hand on her waist and pulled her to his chest. It still wasn’t quite enough.

She pressed her fingers into his nape. “You won’t break me. I want to feel you.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Where?” His voice was a low, seductive rasp.

“Everywhere.” Evie put her other hand on his cheek. “When you kissed before, did you use your tongue?”

“Yes.” He stared at her mouth, and she licked her lips. The faintest gasp slid from him, cloaking her in sensual longing. “Do you want me to use it now?”

“Please.” Holding his gaze, she put her mouth on his, her lips slightly parted.