She looked up at him apprehensively. Had she displeased him in some way?

“It’s too much,” he said raggedly. “I can’t hold out . . .”

“Then don’t,” she whispered.

He shuddered as his lips rejoined hers, nipping and teasing. His movements, once languid and seductive, grew hot and needy, and she gasped as his hands splayed over her thighs and pushed them apart.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he growled, and she felt him at her entrance. “Please tell me you’re ready.”

“I-I think so,” she whispered. She knew she wanted something. When he’d pressed his fingers into her earlier, it had been the most amazingly intimate sensation, but his member was so much larger.

His hand snaked between their bodies and touched her the same way he had before, although not as deeply. “My God, you’re so wet,” he groaned, and then he pulled his hand away, bracing himself above her. “I’ll try to be gentle,” he promised, and then his manhood was back, slowly pushing forward.

Sarah’s breath caught, and she tensed as the friction increased. It hurt. Not a lot, but enough to dampen the fire that had been burning within her.

“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

She nodded.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m almost all right.” She gave him a weak smile. “Really.”

He started to withdraw. “We shouldn’t have—”

“No!” She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Don’t go.”

“But you—”

“Everyone tells me it hurts the first time,” she said reassuringly.

“Everyone?” He managed a shaky smile. “Who have you been talking to?”

A nervous bubble of laughter crossed her lips. “I have a great many cousins. Not Honoria,” she said quickly, because she could see that was what he was thinking. “Some of the older ones like to talk. Quite a bit.”

He braced himself above her, leaning on his forearms so as not to crush her with his weight. But he didn’t say anything. From the look of intense concentration on his face, she was not sure that he could.

“But then it gets better,” she murmured. “That’s what they say. If your husband is kind, it gets much better.”

“I’m not your husband,” he said in a hoarse voice.

She sank one of her hands in his thick hair and drew his lips down to hers, whispering, “You will be.”

It was his undoing. All thought of stopping was swept aside as he captured her in a searing kiss. He moved slowly, but with great deliberation, until somehow—she was not sure how they managed it—their hips met, and he was fully sheathed within her.

“I love you,” she said, before he could ask if she was all right. She wanted no more questions, just passion. He began to move again, and they tumbled into a rhythm that brought them to the edge of their precipice.