Romancing Lady Cecily by Ashley March Page A

own clothing, their lips parting for seconds only to find each other a moment later. He laid her down upon the window seat and moved over her.
    â€œI shouldn’t take you now,” he said, each syllable a caress as his mouth brushed over hers. “Not here, not like this. Tell me to stop, kitten. I need you to tell me—”
    In answer she smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his back, pressing him against her, opening her thighs to cradle him. “Now,” she whispered. “No more waiting. Please, August.”
    On a moan he entered her, unable to control himself. She cried out his name again.
    â€œAugust.”
    He shuddered as he stroked inside, again and again. A thousand words could not have described the glorious heat of her body as he moved within her. He searched for her pain, cursed himself for taking hours and hours to prepare her over the past two years only to abandon all pretense of control at the moment he needed it most.
    With relief he found that her features wore only an expression of passion. She stared up at him, when he’d expected her to close her eyes as she’d always done in the past when pleasure overtook her. He watched her as he moved inside, needing to see the moment that she, too, realized that all the words they had spoken and all of their previous caresses were finally confirmed in this moment, this consummation.
    They moved together, silent. Words were needless now when every time he entered her, each tightening of her legs around his hips, every second that passed between them as they stared into one another’s eyes was like a vow.
    Neither looked away. Not when her lips parted with breathless pants, not when she clenched around him, not when he reached between their bodies to push her first to release. She bowed beneath him, the most beautiful image he’d ever seen, coming apart in his arms. Burying his face at her throat, August poured himself into her, his entire body trembling with the effort after every time they’d met and he’d given her pleasure while taking none of his own.
    Afterward her heartbeat thudded beneath his ear, and she clutched him tightly, her arms and legs still wound around him as if she could keep him inside her forever.
    â€œI understand,” she said quietly.
    Reluctant to have even one inch of his skin leave hers, still he pushed himself onto his elbows. He drew a line from the corner of her eye where a wet trace showed a tear had spilled, moving over the crest of her cheek and down to her chin. He turned her gaze toward his.
    â€œTell me,” he urged.
    Her eyes burned into his, and for the first time, August realized she was finally allowing herself to see him as something that wouldn’t soon disappear. At last, she understood that she was the one who possessed him heart, body, and soul.
    â€œI always thought that I would be satisfied, that this would be the conclusion to your kisses and caresses that kept me longing for you these past two years. Yet you have just made love to me and already I want you again. Is this how you intend to consume me?” she asked.
    He smiled and leaned down, kissed her once more. “Every day for the rest of our lives, my love.”

Chapter 6
    The note arrived as he finished preparing for dinner. Though his name was written in her script it held no scent, which he knew after lifting it to his nose, seeking another hint of her.
    August turned the envelope over, carefully pried the edges open with his fingers. He drew out a thick white card, the elegant black writing containing a short missive, nothing more than:
    Meet me in my bedchamber.
    â€”C
    Though the location and the signed initial were different, the message was more than familiar, an echo of the same he had sent to her repeatedly over the past two years.
    His wife had summoned him to a rendezvous.
    Casting off the cravat his valet had just perfected, August dismissed the servant and strode to the