But something wasn’t right. Slowly Alex pulled his consciousness back from his mindless plunging into the hot, tight warmth of Charlotte’s body. Now he saw that tears were seeping out beneath her closed eyelids. Even as her body arched to meet each stroke, she wept. He stilled his body instantly, forcing his throbbing manhood to lie quiescent inside her.

“Darling,” he whispered. “What is it? Does it hurt?”

Charlotte’s eyes opened, huge, tear-drenched. He kissed away the tears, but she turned her head.

“What is it, Charlotte?” Alex’s strong hand pulled her chin back, so he could see her eyes.

“I can’t, I can’t not.” Her breath caught on a sob.

“Can’t not what?” Alex prompted.

“I can’t stop myself.” More tears flooded out now. Alex gently withdrew himself and pulled a handkerchief from the table, blotting Charlotte’s tears.

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” he finally prompted when it appeared she wasn’t going to continue.

“You said, you said that no lady acts the way I did.” Charlotte was crying hopelessly now, her voice broken by sobs. “You said that you had never heard of a lady p-panting, or begging for it, the way I did.”

Alex’s heart stopped. Had he really said anything so cruel? God, he couldn’t have. In a fit of stupid rage he might have ruined the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

“Charlotte,” he said fiercely. “I was an idiot, do you hear me? An idiot. I was off my head, insane with jealousy. I wanted to hurt your feelings, and so I said the cruelest thing I could think of, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it,” he repeated desperately as Charlotte kept crying.

“I just can’t stop myself,” she finally said in a ragged voice. “You were right. I’m not a lady; I’m a …” But she couldn’t bring herself to say the ugly word, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“Oh, God, Charlotte,” Alex groaned, pulling her into his arms. “Please, please listen to me. If you withdraw from me now, because of the stupid, cruel things I said, it will be the death of me. I will have destroyed the one thing I dreamed of: a passionate, loving relationship with my wife.

“Listen to me, Charlotte!” He bent commandingly over her, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Do you think I sound like a whore when I almost shout every time you touch me? When I am panting, and grunting, and making every ungentlemanly noise I can? Do I repulse you? Do I?”

Charlotte shook her head numbly.

“How does it make you feel when I moan at your touch?” Alex asked, more quietly.

A slight smile touched Charlotte’s lips. “Like a queen,” she said.