“I’ve been wanting to touch you all day.” He cut off any further arguments by lifting her chin to kiss him. As his tongue met hers, his skilled hands moved over the fabric of her nightgown, tantalizing her. He touched her stomach, caressing her down to her hips. Emily stiffened, keeping her legs shut.

Tell him to stop, her mind pleaded.

But his warm mouth was melting away her uncertainty, making her want him. If she offered herself up, it would be wonderful, like before. Could she separate her body from her conscience and accept him? Could she take comfort from his touch without it meaning anything?

No. It would hurt too much when he left her. She broke away. “Stephen, I—”

“I’m only going to give you pleasure,” he whispered, and her cheeks heated at the things he promised.

Beneath the covers, his hand eased up the hem of her nightgown until he touched her bare thigh. His hand moved up to the slit between her legs. A moan escaped her as his wicked fingers slid past her curls and inside her. Flames of desire licked her skin, making her burn for him.

Sweet Lord above, he knew just how to dissolve her resistance. Her skin rose up beneath his touch, her nipples puckering.

“I want to make you my wife,” he whispered roughly, stroking her until she arched her back. She hungered for him, her hands moving across his firm skin. “I want to move deep inside you, feeling your warmth around me.”

His words aroused her, while a shuddering sensation built up, a rising tide of need. Though his intimate touch embarrassed her, she was beyond thinking clearly. Every one of her senses was alive.

She had to stop him, to keep this from happening. But she couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts together. He increased the tempo, his thumb exerting a gentle pressure against her tight bud.

His mouth covered her nipple, his hands arousing her. Another finger thrust inside her, mimicking the rhythm of lovemaking. Deeper he plunged, his thumb riding her, until she strained, her back arching. A violent release ripped through her as wave after wave of ecstasy flooded her skin. She couldn’t move, couldn’t form a single word.

“It was like this before,” she whispered. She hadn’t forgotten a single moment of their wedding night or the way he’d made her feel beautiful.

What if he left her again? She couldn’t stop the tears spilling onto her cheeks. He doesn’t love you.

When he saw her tears, he stopped immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. No, he hadn’t hurt her. Not physically. But she should have known better than to share a bed with him.

“This was a mistake,” she whispered.