He gazed down at the woman below him. Her pupils were huge in the half light, her hair delightfully mussed. He swallowed. The scent of her, of what he’d done to her, filled the small space and made the ache in his cock even worse. Desire still pounded in his blood. He wanted to be inside her, right now. No preliminaries, no more playing. Just hard and fast against the wooden boards, deep and full, until she cried out his name, and they both lost themselves in pleasure and oblivion.

He took a deep breath and strove for control, then rolled off her and tried to rearrange himself into a more comfortable position—as if that were possible. He was fiercely glad that he’d been the one to give her this first taste of passion. He wished he’d been able to see every nuance of her expression as she’d reached the peak, but even in the dim light, she’d been beautiful. So sweetly responsive. He’d loved her frown of concentration, the uninhibited trust of her climax.

He tilted his head, listening. No sound came from the warehouse beyond. He sat up awkwardly in the cramped space, taking care not to hit any of the pipes and gauges that protruded from the bulkheads, then hauled himself out of the hatch. He peered down at Georgie and offered his hand with an inner smile at his belated chivalry.

That had been no courtly wooing, no pretty poetic romance. It had been hot and sweaty and glorious. A frenzied blur of passion and limbs in the darkness. He swallowed and tried to slow his racing pulse. This was only the beginning. God, the things he had to teach her.

He wondered if she was embarrassed by what they’d just done, or merely incredulous. He was rather stunned himself.

She accepted his help back up, took a deep lungful of air, and made a big show of trying to right her rumpled clothing. “Well, that was, ah…” She seemed lost for words, which pleased him immensely.

“Exciting?” he provided wryly. “Amazing, Benedict? Positively the best experience I’ve ever had?”

“Something I’ll never forget,” she said finally.

He chuckled at her return to formality, even as he tried to ignore her becomingly flushed cheeks and the fact that her lips were still puffy from his kisses. “It was an honor and a privilege,” he said solemnly.

“Not a duty?” She looked up at him then, and he sent her an easy smile, determined to banish any awkwardness. He wanted her to glory in what they’d done, not be ashamed.

“Never. You have wood shavings in your hair.”