“What?” He looked up at her, eyes heavy-lidded and sensual. Wickedness personified. She wished she could sketch him right at this moment, but there were other things which required her attention, namely the way his fingers were moving against her.
“The colors I shall use for your hair,” she breathed.
Haven explored every inch of her body for what felt like forever, bringing her close to the release she sought again but never allowing her to reach it. Wet and aching, she pushed her hips up against him, begging Haven as her fingers sifted through the thick strands of his hair.
This was so breathtaking. So wonderful. So much morerightthan Theo had ever imagined. Her heart firmly reached for his, tethering itself to Haven. A tear slipped unbidden down her cheek, and she wished she could put the feeling into words. “Ambrose,” she whispered, “I wish—”
Haven cupped her cheek, wiping away the small bit of moisture with the tip of his finger. “It doesn’t matter, Theo,” he said roughly before kissing her deeply. “I promise.”
Theo was too far gone to make sense of his words. He’d drawn her pleasure into a sharp point, a precipice, one she wanted to fall from.
When he finally settled between her thighs, Theo welcomed him. She knew what to expect, or at least the basics. The same bliss she’d experienced in the tub awaited her. But a small pinch first, according to her mother. Nothing more.
Haven grasped her hips and thrust firmly, seating himself deep inside her.
All pleasure fled Theo’s body as pain speared up inside her. She struggled against the invasion, the awful rending tear. A whimper came from her lips before she bit down, trying to keep from sobbing.
A bit more than a bloody pinch.
Theo would have compared it to something inside her being torn. Ravaged. He was wedged inside her and it—hurt. She sucked in her breath.
“Jesus.” A stricken look came over Haven’s face, his eyes wide with regret. “Theo. Sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He didn’t move, not an inch. He stayed perfectly still, allowing time for her body to accommodate his. He kissed away the salt of her tears, the low rumble of his voice purring against her neck until she relaxed.
“This is terribly uncomfortable,” she said, looking up at him.
“Gorgeous creature.” Haven bent, lips running up the side of her neck. “Is it getting better?”
“Yes.” She nodded. The pain was starting to ebb, the sting not so terrible. The sense of fullness was odd. Knowing Haven was inside her body was strange but also wonderful.
He brushed her lips tenderly with his. Taking her hand, he laced his larger fingers with hers before thrusting gently inside her, watching her face for any signs of distress.
Theo felt herself soften more, her hips tilting as he rocked into her.
Haven pressed his forehead to hers. “My hunger for you is infinite, Theodosia. Never to be assuaged. I kept my distance today,” he sucked gently at her bottom lip, “because I was afraid if I touched you, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, and I’d ravish you in your brother’s coach.” He slowed further, his fingers moving between their bodies, sparking an echo of her earlier pleasure. Their mouths met, tongues mingling as they rocked together.
Her pleasure peaked softly, slowly stretching across her lower body, growing stronger each time he moved against her. One big hand reached beneath her, pulling her tighter against him.
She found the rhythm easily, wrapping her legs around his waist, matching every thrust. Her pleasure was different this time, tied to Haven in a way she hadn’t expected. When her release thundered through her, the bliss was so sweet, so unexpected, Theo sank her teeth into Haven’s shoulder, the exquisite shattering with him inside her blocking out everything else.
“Theo,” he groaned, slamming into her so hard, she thought she might break. Her inner muscles tightened around the length of him, and she felt him pulse along with a burst of warmth. His head fell to the curve of her shoulder as he stilled, the rasp of his breath ruffling her hair.
His lips moved, smiling against her skin before rolling to the side, taking her with him.
She curled against him, listening to the thump of his heart keeping time with hers. The rightness of the moment struck her again. The absolute completeness.
She was far happier than she’d ever imagined.
16
“Wake up, Theodosia.” Lips traveled up the line of her back, nibbling along her spine before disappearing.
Blinking, Theo opened her eyes, the dream fading as consciousness returned along with a view of the small room where she’d spent her wedding night. She’d been painting Haven. And she was naked wearing only her spectacles. They were outside in a field, butterflies floating around her head as Haven stood before her, his eyes the exact color of the summer grass. The sun was glinting in his hair as he raised a hand, palm up, in her direction.
“Haven?”
“Of course, it’s me.” He appeared before her, partially dressed. “I know you can’t see, so if you’d like to be sure,” the bed shifted as he leaned over her, “feel free to grope me.”
Theo snorted, laughing into her pillow. “You’re horrible. And my spectacles are in my valise.”
