Romancing Lady Cecily by Ashley March

further by his touch. “Another revelation so soon? Shall you tell me all of your secrets in one day?”
    His mouth curved into a dark half-smile—part wicked, part self-derisive. “I will tell you whatever you wish. But I would ask one thing of you first.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œStay with me.” His smile fell, his lids lowering as he stared into her eyes. “My confession is this: I tried to seduce you because I know I can sway you with my mouth, with my hands. I can give you pleasure. I know how to make you breathless, mindless with passion. The truth is, however, that I don’t have anything else to offer you. I’m not the man your parents would have chosen for you freely. I am not a man of talent. If I were, I would have composed a symphony to your beauty. I am not a man proficient with words—all I can speak of is my love for you, and the devastation you would damn me to for the rest of my life should you leave. It’s true I have wealth. I will give it all to you. I will give you everything you wish, everything I can give—every hour of the day, every breath from my lungs—if you will stay with me. Don’t leave.”
    Her heart slammed against her ribs. Slowly, she straightened and leaned forward on the window seat, her eyes roving over him. How still he sat, his posture stiff and his gaze guarded. Cecily reached forward and lifted his hand where it lay clenched upon his knee. She turned her face and laid his palm against her cheek. He stared at her, and she willed him to see her own silent confession, the truth that had been evident all along if only he had tried to see it.
    â€œIs this the hand you would seduce me with?”
    His chest expanded with breath. He gave a short, terse nod, his black eyes flaring.
    â€œAnd this?” She leaned farther still, reaching to trace the outline of his lips, her fingers trembling at the first touch. “Is the mouth you would use to make me mindless with passion?”
    He kissed her fingertips, then lifted his other hand to capture hers. Holding her captive, he parted his lips and drew both fingers inside. The hot, sensuous pull of his mouth stirred an ache between her thighs. Her breath rushed from her lungs, her skin heating in turn from her own need, his touch, his dark gaze which claimed every beat of her heart as his.
    Withdrawing her fingers, she knelt and circled her arms around his neck. “I accept,” she whispered. “I will take all of you, everything you will give me. Your heart, your soul, your body. Just as you have mine.”
    â€œI fear even your heart, soul, and body will never be enough,” he said against her lips. “I will always want you, always want more of you. I will never be content with what you can give me. You must understand, Cecily, for I will not leave you alone. If you take me now, you take me knowing that this fire will remain unquenched, this desire something that I wish to consume you also.”
    â€œYou speak as if you are the only one who wants. Do I not love you as well? Do I not need you as desperately?”
    â€œYou have not said—”
    â€œI love you. I loved you from the first. I—”
    He kissed her hard, sealing his lips to hers, tangling his hands in her hair and holding her to him with such strength that she couldn’t move. But she didn’t want to move. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her clothes were too constricting, unbearable boundaries shielding her from the heat of his skin, the touch of his flesh against hers.
    Unlike their previous encounters, he didn’t leave her lips. He tore at her buttons, her lacings. He shred the gown from her shoulders and shoved her corset aside. He ripped her drawers and chemise apart and she was naked before him, all but for her shoes and stockings, and still he kissed her.
    She tugged at his jacket but he moved her arms again to encircle his neck. In a frenzy he removed his