She looked up at him, losing herself in the piercing pewter of his eyes. “Now.”

He pushed inside her, his flesh stretching hers. It was so much more than his fingers, and it took her a moment to grow accustomed to him. He kissed her temple and her cheek before whispering, “Just breathe. We’ll go slow for a bit.”

He waited, quietly filling her and holding still until she began to relax.

“Ready,” she said.

“Wrap your legs around me, love.” He withdrew, but not completely, then slowly drove forward again. Again and again, he removed and returned until she began to move with him.

“Yes, that’s right,” he urged. “Now we’ll go a bit faster.” He picked up speed and the friction was delicious.

She gasped, arching as he filled her. “I like faster. I think I want harder or deeper. I don’t know. I want more.”

“Hold onto me.” He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth tantalizing hers as he built a new momentum. She gripped him with hands and legs and tried to move with him, her body becoming frenzied as she careened toward her release. Digging her fingers into his back, she cried out as she came apart, her muscles tightening as a torrent of pleasure washed over her.

Tobias moved even faster, his body snapping into hers with a blissful precision. She closed her eyes and cast her head back, surrendering herself to the soul-deep rapture.

Just as she began to float back to earth, he cried out, a low, guttural sound that she felt in her bones. He thrust deep, and a smaller second burst of pleasure sparked. She held him tightly between her legs as she stroked his back and kissed his neck, his shoulder, his chest.

When he was spent, he fell to the side, his chest heaving. Fiona rolled to face him. Skimming her hand along his abdomen, she felt the ripple of his muscles from his chest to his belly. “What an unusual terrain. What would this be, I wonder?” she murmured to herself somewhat nonsensically. “Perhaps this is the Overton Steppe.”

“Are you referring to the hair on my chest? There isn’t that much. Isn’t a steppe grassy?”

“Not necessarily.” She giggled. “If not a steppe, then a plain, I suppose, but it’s not flat.” Inspiration struck. “It moves like water, particularly if you laugh.” That made him laugh, proving her point. “The Sea of Overton.”

“You astonish me, Fiona.”

She rose up over him and a lock of her hair fell free, grazing his chest. “Oh dear, I worry my hair is a mess.”

“I think it’s best if we don’t return to the ball. I’ll say you became ill and I saw you home.”

“Won’t that still spark disapproval?”

“But I’m your guardian!” His eyes widened in mock horror.

“I was rather hoping you would be my husband instead.”

He bolted up, forcing her to sit too. “I was trying so hard not to be an ass anymore, and I completely forgot to propose to you again.” He wiped his hand over his face and gave her a sheepish look. “Miss Wingate, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”