Dominick frowned, watching as another tear escaped the corner of her eye, then another. “Are you afraid of me, Callie?”
She let out a choked sound, a sob she had tried to stifle but failed. “I am terrified of you, of this. I told myself I would be practical, that it was useless to let myself think I could have love and passion and … and I thought I no longer wanted it. I’m not a girl anymore. The other men who made me feel as if I wasn’t worth the honor of their names or titles meant little to me. I could carry on once the initial shock and anger of it had passed. But you … you would destroy me, and I cannot risk that.”
Dominick’s chest ached at the pain he heard in her voice and the truth of it all radiating from her gaze. It made him want to hunt down every man who had ever tried to use and discard her and make them pay. It made him want to do whatever it took to make her forget about them all. Only, he knew all-too well how such disappointment could leave a lasting impression. He’d never been jilted in a romantic sense, but he had opened himself to the possibility of doing and being something more, only to have door after door slammed in his face. He knew what it was to give up because everyone around him had made it clear they didn’t believe his efforts would ever amount to anything.
He strummed his knuckles along her cheek, finding more tears. “I’m afraid too. Do you know how difficult it is for me to tell you how I feel, knowing I stand no chance against Lewes, knowing I may never be good enough for you but still wanting to be? But, I’m here and I refuse to pretend watching you marry him will not tear me apart. I understand your fear, but I need you to understand that you don’t have to feel that fear alone.”
She trembled in his hold, but did not pull away when he rested his hand lightly on the back of her neck, urging her closer. She closed her eyes and another tear fell, but the tension left her body as she sank into him.
He pressed his lips to her with the barest of pressure, and her mouth opened beneath the touch of his, a soft, desperate mewl escaping when his tongue sought hers.
“Shh … it’s all right,” he whispered, kissing her nose, her brow, then her mouth again, surging deeper this time. “I just want … just let me, Callie … let me show you how badly I want you. God, how I want you.”
Her forehead pressed against his as she leaned in, but reticence still stiffened her spine. “We can’t … I have to think of my future. If we do something we cannot take back—”
“I promise you, we won’t. Can you trust me with that much at least?”
Eyes squeezing shut, she nodded her acquiescence. He fell on her, freed by her tentative surrender. He didn’t care that she might be missed, or even that someone might realize they’d both gone missing at the same time. Nothing mattered but the woman in his arms, clinging to his shoulders as he lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the nearest piece of furniture.
The settee was plush and soft at his back, Calliope a pleasant weight across his thighs. She stiffened when he spread her legs on either side of his, hitching her skirts up past her knees. But, he went on kissing her, soothing her with nonsensical murmurs meant to reassure her. He stroked up her legs, past the edges of her stockings and garters, his palms skimming soft, bare skin.
“Stop thinking,” he urged, nuzzling at her bodice as his hands left her thighs and traveled up her rigid back, flicking buttons loose along the way. “Just this once, just for now, let go and simply feel.”
She met his gentle command with wordless submission, accepting the kisses he trailed down her neck. Her bodice sagged, her stays loosening as he pulled at the laces. His hands shook as he reached up to peel the layers down, just far enough to uncover the flesh he longed to see, taste, and touch—but not enough that he’d be tempted to undress her completely. There was no time for that, but he would accept what he could have of her