Impatient, Charlotte raised her hips and groaned, urging him on, urging him faster, and Alexander felt another bolt of panic. How could he sully such a woman? How could he risk her reputation and future? What they shared was beautiful; it was love. But would anyone understand? His eyes shot to her face, his brows furrowed. He couldn’t bear the thought of doing the wrong thing. He loved her more than he could imagine.
“What is it?” she asked again, lowering her hips slowly.
“Are… are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice cracking with the emotion and desire coursing through his veins.
“More than anything in the world.”
“But—”
“You will owe me nothing in return, if that is your concern,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. “I want this as much as you, but do not worry, Alexander. I have no designs on you. I only crave you; I don’t want you to stop.”
Alexander frowned. Was he nothing but physical pleasure to her? No, surely not. Surely, she felt the love that swirled around them as much as he did.
“Don’t stop,” she repeated. “I am already an outcast. Making love won’t change that. Enjoying you and what we share won’t change that.”
Alexander winced at the sting of her words. To think she believed herself so low hurt him, and he opened his mouth to speak. He would tell her everything, how he felt, what his intentions were. That he would repay her with marriage because now, that was all he wanted in the world. But before the words could form in the air, she sat up and kissed him with such force, such passion, that he they were swallowed in their act of love.
She reached down and brushed her fingers over the stretched fabric at his crotch, and Alexander shuddered. If he had any doubt about her desires, they dissipated, replaced by the need to drive himself into her. He pulled at his waistband, popping the button open. Charlotte giggled, biting her bottom lip and driving him wild. He shimmied the fabric from his hips, and the cool air hit his hot thighs.
“You’re sure?” he repeated. Charlotte giggled again.
“Stop asking that, and please… I need it.”
And she did. Her thighs raised, pressing against his, he could feel the slickness of her, the way her body cried out for him. He guided himself into her. She gasped; he paused, allowing her a moment to open to him, welcome him, become acclimated to him.
Then he pushed his hips against hers, causing her to moan loudly. Were he not in the throes of his own overwhelming passion, he would have been concerned that someone would hear, but instead he joined her noisemaking.
“Good Lord, you are everything,” he said as he built up rhythm in his movements.
“Mm.” Charlotte tried to speak but the words did not come, and seeing her so enthralled urged Alexander on.
His slow, steady pace built faster, and harder, the knot of love and need and confusion in his stomach tightening and tightening. Charlotte screwed her eyes closed, her moans louder still, and she reached up and grasped hold of his shirt, balling it up in her fists.
And as she experienced her release, clenching him tightly, his own tension unraveled, and he grunted with a final thrust. He fell to the ground next to her, the pair of the perspiring and spent.
Breathless, Charlotte muttered, “Goodness.”
“Goodness indeed.” Alexander buried his face in the crook of Charlotte’s neck, inhaling the earthy scent of her. “You are truly magnificent, Charlotte. Never an outcast. Never forget.”
Chapter 24
“Someone looks happy,” Aunt Lydia said when Charlotte finally arrived home that evening. She had dried off in the sun, then Alexander had returned her home in his carriage.
“It has been a very pleasant day for a boat ride,” she replied, entering the drawing room where her aunt sat alone with a book. “And it was rather nice to see Stewart again.”
“Stewart?” Aunt Lydia raised an eyebrow, and Charlotte looked away, not wanting her expression to admit anything. “Is that who you’ve been with?”
“As you well know,” Charlotte replied. She busied herself with pouring a glass of wine from the decanter on the side. “He called on me this morning.”
Aunt Lydia looked her up and down, openly doubting the veracity of Charlotte’s words, and perhaps rightly so.
“All right,” she said. “If you insist.”
Charlotte inhaled deeply before turning with a smile she had been unable to rid herself of since leaving Alexander’scompany. “I’m home now, regardless,” she said. “Will the others be joining us for dinner?”
She sat down on the couch opposite Lydia, but her aunt didn’t answer her. Instead, she eyed her carefully and then said, “I thought perhaps we could invite a few others to dinner tomorrow. The Duke of Ashbourne, since he is so keen to be here of late.”
Charlotte’s heart leaped at the idea. “Why, I—”
