Her laugh was cut off as his mouth claimed hers, and nothing else tonight had felt so right, so perfect. She didn’t hesitate to part her lips, to give him full access to the confines within. This was what she wanted for the remainder of her life: the passion, the fire, the desire.

But finding it with him would be a blow to her family, and he’d certainly given no indication he wanted anything permanent with her. Yet where was the harm in enjoying pleasure, within limits? He’d already proven he wouldn’t take more than she was willing to give. And his mouth moving so determinedly over hers did much to calm the doubts that plagued her in spite of what had been a successful evening. She sighed with wonder, with joy, that he could make her feel so treasured.

His arm snaked around her waist, and he gently pulled her off the settee and onto his lap. Supporting her back, he bent her over slightly, changing the angle of the kiss, taking it deeper. Of their own accord, her hands went to his head, her fingers becoming entangled in the thick strands of his hair. She desperately wanted him to be as grateful to have her in his arms as she was to be within his.

But his experience was so beyond hers. He stroked his hand down her back and cupped her bottom with abandon, without hesitation, with a surety that announced more clearly than any words that he was familiar with the female anatomy, that he knew how to touch, how to press, how to stroke in ways that could drive a woman mad—in the best possible way.

While she was a novice, learning her way around a man’s physique. But what a wonderful specimen he was. Muscled and toned, firm beneath her touch as her hands journeyed over his shoulders, his back. While pleasure was threatening to distract her, she was determined to come to know him a little more, to give to him as much as he was giving to her.

As she trailed the fingers of one hand along his bristly jaw, he groaned low and carried his mouth on a journey to her ear where he nibbled on her lobe before sweeping his tongue over the sensitive shell. How did one ever learn all the different areas where an intimate stroke would weaken knees? She felt as though her entire body was in danger of melting.

Suddenly she realized he was no longer supporting her, that she was spread out on the thick Aubusson rug, and he was nestled against her side, raised up on an elbow. Lifting his mouth from hers, he held her gaze as he trailed his finger along her décolletage, where flesh met silk. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he stopped, his fingers lingering over the swell that had been denied his attention after the first ball.