at you.”
He took her shift and lifted it up her body, over her head, and off, leaving her in nothing but her stockings. His heated gaze swept over her, and everywhere he looked, goosebumps spread across her flesh. Then he trailed his hand along her neck and over her breasts, across her belly to graze at the curls guarding her feminine core, and then down her thighs to the lace hem of her stockings.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as his fingers teased at her stockings. He untied each and rolled it down her calf, over her foot, and off, tossed away to join the rest of their clothes on the floor.
Nothing remained between them now as he leaned in to kiss her and slowly lowered her onto her back. She tasted his unspoken feelings for her in the tender kiss that grew in intensity until she was meeting his demanding kisses lick for lick and bite for bite, until her arms wrapped around his neck as he slid himself over her, until she parted her legs beneath him to let him settle into the cradle of her thighs.
His hand slipped between her legs to caress her once more, and she instinctively arched beneath him, ready to give herself to him. Now and always.
His name fell from her lips in a breathless, pleading whisper.
As he held himself poised over her on one elbow, he took his length in his hand and guided himself inside her.
Frankie stiffened with a gasp as he stretched her wide and filled her completely. But he drank up the sound with a kiss and eased the discomfort by moving slowly as her body adjusted to his. His hips gently swayed forward and back, side to side, and her discomfort melted into a singular sensation that was pure heaven.
As he lowered himself to claim her tight warmth and then retreat, then again and again in a steady but tender rhythm, the night around them vanished until there was only Shaw and the wonderful pleasure he was giving her. The rest of the world plunged away, and she soared toward the heavens, wrapping herself around him and never wanting to let go.
A new wave of pleasure began to lick at her toes and move up through her, spreading liquid heat in its wake. Her body tensed, and all the tiny muscles inside her clenched down tightly around him as if to bring him even deeper inside her, as if to find a way to make them part of each other forever.
“Francesca,” he murmured, the pained restraint clear in his voice. “I love you.” He swirled his hips into hers, taking himself even deeper and brushing against the sensitive point buried in her folds that throbbed in time with her heartbeat. “I always have.”
She broke with a cry. Pleasure poured through her, engulfed her body, and saturated her heart.
Burying her face in his neck, she clung to him as he slipped from her warmth and squeezed his still-hard length between their two bellies, every muscle in his tall body taut and strained. With a soft groan and a small jerk of his hips, he spilled himself against her, then collapsed on top of her, fully sated and spent.
After a long moment’s stillness, he rolled onto his side and brought her against his front. His trembling hand caressed her in soothing strokes. Protective. Affectionate. Worshipping.
A tear of happiness slid silently down her cheek. No words needed to be said.
Shaw lay on his side in the bed and watched Frankie sleep. Her chestnut hair tumbled around her bare shoulders as her head rested lightly on the pillow beside his, her full lips parted delicately. Each soft breath of sleep came deep and even, and he resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her, not wanting to wake her.
Sweet heavens, she was wonderful. He knew no other woman with her spirit and determination, her fierce resolve to have the life she wanted even if it put her at odds with her father. The viscount loved her, certainly, and that was the problem. Her father knew that the best life for her was as the daughter-in-law to a duke.
He smiled a bit arrogantly. The old man would suffer apoplexy if he learned that she’d given her innocence to a horse trainer.
The most wonderful gift of his life, too. Utterly overwhelming. Complete bliss. And surprising, even to him. He hadn’t meant to tell her that he loved her—what good could come of it? Yet he’d gone