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They’d done this so many times. Both knew why he was here. What it would lead to. Yet he asked permission.

All she required of him was respect. And he never failed to give it to her.

“Undress me, Duke.”

A smile lit his eyes, and he grazed his nose alongside hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as something achingly sweet infiltrated her chest. This man was going to ruin her. But after he left, she’d pick up the pieces and put herself back together. Just as she had when Papa had died. Just as she always did.

The smooth cotton of her shirt dragged over her stomach as he pulled it free from her trousers, dragged over her chest, arms, and neck as he removed it from her person. Next went her trousers. He untied her half-stays and let them fall away with a faint thud. Then he picked her up and walked her over to her mattress. He carefully lowered her, then knelt. Large grey eyes stared up at her, earnest and open. Trusting.

She lifted a stockinged foot and placed it on his shoulder. He ran his palm up and down her calf, pressed a kiss there, then slowly rolled down her stocking. She went to pull her foot away, but his fingers wrapped around her ankle, slid to the arch of her foot, massaged gently, all the while his eyes remained trained on hers. Then he repeated the process with her other foot.

He placed a kiss on the inside of her knee, then went to stand, but she stopped him. She made quick work of his simply tied cravat, placing it on the bed for later. Then she guided him to stand. He shrugged out of his waistcoat and pulled his shirt over his head as she undid the buttons of his trousers.

She slipped off her bed and pushed him to take her spot. She shot him a sultry smile, then dropped to her knees, just as he had a moment ago. She divested him of his trousers and stockings, but she didn’t stand afterward. She slid her palms up and down his thighs, settling herself between his legs.

He let out a shaky breath.

His length was already on its way to hard. She wrapped her fingers around him and gave him a slow, loose stroke. His thighs flexed.

She tucked her chin, looking up at him beneath her lashes. “May I?”

A breath fled him on a whoosh. “Minx.”

Theo grinned. Then she leaned in and finally got the taste she’d been dying for for so long. She slipped his crown into her mouth, letting him roll over her tongue. A heady warmth settled in her belly. This was an act Theo loved. But it wasn’t one she did with just anyone. It was an act that both lent someone power but made them vulnerable. And considering his magnanimous offer initially, she hadn’t been certain it was something she wanted to do with him.

Oh, how far they’d come since that day.

She slid down his shaft, mouth stretching as he grew harder in her mouth. His chest lifted sharply, those gray irises a blazing charcoal. She slid her hand in rhythm with her mouth, and his lips parted, ragged breaths punctuating the air.

That. That was what made it so heady. Watching a person lose control, their pleasure completely at your mercy.

Her fingers dug into his thighs, and she shifted even closer to him. He was much too large for her to take all of him, but she sank as deeply as she could, her hand making up the difference. His legs were like iron under her palm, his hips making almost imperceptible bucks. Restrained. The man before her was determined not to take something she wasn’t ready to give him.

Respect.

She worked him over until a dull ache started in her jaw. Then she pulled back and lavished his head with attention while she stroked him hard and fast. His hand flew to cup her face, snapping her attention back up to his face. A sharp blush streaked across his cheeks, but it wasn’t heat in his gaze. It was far too tender and had her stomach flipping.

His breathing had turned rougher, the strong muscles in his thighs clenching and twitching. Heat washed over her, sinking into her skin. He was close, battling control. His fingers flexed on her head, his body vibrating beneath her touch, the struggle to hold himself back growing. She moaned around him, and his eyes slammed shut. He stilled her with his grip, muttering curses as he held perfectly still.

After a moment, his muscles went lax, and he opened his eyes. He slowly pulled free from her mouth. His thumb dusted over her cheek, down to her raw, swollen lips. She watched him, waiting. Waiting for what he wanted. He bent toward her, softly encouraging her to rise to her knees to meet him. He pressed a soft kiss on her lips, then rested his forehead against hers, nothing but their panting breaths whispering through the chamber.

He seemed to be warring with something; a tension radiated from him. Then he exhaled, and with that breath blew away whatever was plaguing him. His hands found her waist, and in the next heartbeat Theo found herself straddling his lap.

She towered over him, her hands resting on his shoulders. Grey eyes searched hers, a level of trust in them that set off flutters in her chest.

“Like this.”

She nodded and leaned over to grab his neckcloth. He pulled her back, and her brows pinched, then he shifted her until he was notched at her entrance.

He shook his head. “Exactly like this.”

Her pulse skittered through her veins as he encouraged her to sink down on him. No bounds. No barriers. Just them.

“You’re certain?” she whispered.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

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