29. “I Didn’t Know”

"I DIDN'T KNOW"

L eopold traced the unfastened gap at the back of her gown. "It's so soft," he whispered. "Your skin." He felt her shiver.

Her scent wasn't that of a proper lady this morning. She smelled earthier, musky. It only made him want her more. It made him want to taste her.

Everywhere .

Waking up, he could almost believe the previous night had been nothing more than an incredibly vivid dream. But it had been real.

The candlelight. The translucent gown. And if that hadn't been convincing enough…

"You thought I stopped because I'd come to my senses."

She'd come to tell him he'd been wrong.

"I was abiding by rule number two. I simply needed to… pause."

She'd told him she wanted more.

More.

But even after he'd gotten sick, she'd refused to leave. In fact, she'd seemed to dig in a little deeper. Were those actual claws in his heart?

Like a bloody angel sent from heaven above, she'd flitted around his room, gathering the supplies she'd needed to care for his injuries. And after removing his shirt, her touch had been lighter and sweeter than anything he'd ever experienced.

And now. She was here. In the secret domain of his operations.

Only vaguely aware of anything but Amelia, Leopold leaned forward and skimmed his jaw along hers.

She leaned into his touch. "You're going to kiss me again." It wasn't really a question.

"I think so." He chuckled a little. Leopold pulled away just enough to read her eyes. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"

"I think so," she said. "But do you want to kiss me ?"

He answered with a low growl, and then looped the rope of her braid around his fist.

When he tugged on it, she tipped her head back, and her rosebud lips parted with a melodic sigh.

So damned pretty. Leopold took a moment to appreciate the view. In the flickering light of the sconces, her ivory neck begged for his mouth. Vulnerable. Tender.

"Mr. Beckworth." His name on her lips was little more than a moan. Still so formal, at least in this.

It was endearing.

Today, he was physically exhausted, but he was even more exhausted from fighting himself.

And she had come to him. Again.

She wasn't afraid to ask for what she wanted.

"Amelia?" He paused and when she opened her eyes, her pupils edged out most of the blue, making them look darker than usual. "Do you still want more?"

"I'll always want more," she admitted, making his heart throb harder than his cock—if that was even possible.

Leopold exhaled through his nostrils, his eyes locked with hers. She wouldn't be with him much longer. All too soon, she'd return to her life as Lady Amelia. The life of the very proper aristocracy, where everyone followed the rules, always.

But today, she wanted him.

He crushed his mouth against hers almost savagely. She welcomed it, and he couldn't be sure which of them groaned. Perhaps both of them.

And although he'd never liked tea, on Amelia's lips, it tasted rich and strong but also sweet. Much like this woman.

"I could do this forever," he said.

When she nipped at his bottom lip, he conceded that he was going to have to revisit more than one of his former opinions.

Because kissing Lady Amelia Crowley changed everything.

At some point, she'd locked her legs around his waist. Their tongues sparred. Their teeth clashed. And her hands, which had been so gentle the night before, dug into his back.

Last night, she'd been on her knees, staring at him with an irresistible combination of innocence and temptress dancing in her eyes. Today, he'd do the kneeling.

Tearing his mouth away, he cradled her cheeks, the prettiest pink he'd ever seen. "I'll stop if you want."

"No." She was already shaking her head. "I just want… you."

A glimpse of unimaginable possibilities opened up.

"I didn't know…" Leopold said, feeling an odd sort of wonder… Not even sure of what he was talking about. But it was true. He hadn't known. He hadn't known he could experience feelings like this. For a woman like her.

"I didn't either," she answered.

After a beat of silence, he dropped to his knees. The floor, a collection of uneven stones, dug into him, but he didn't mind. In fact, that discomfort might just get him through this without embarrassing himself.

Staring up and into her eyes, he trailed his hands up her calves, under her pretty blue skirt, and over her knees. Was he holding his breath?

When he'd touched her like this before, she'd needed a pause.

But she wasn't skittish today. She licked her lips, which were already shiny and swollen from his kiss. When he urged her knees apart, he watched her swallow.

"Yes?" He needed to be sure.

"Yes." She gazed at him almost fiercely.

Mine .

The word all but branded his soul.

Leopold was almost dizzy from wanting her, but he had to go slow. This wasn't about him. It was about her. But then she tested all his good intentions.

"I won't break," she said.

He shook his head. "I've wanted you for so long."

When she gave him a look of disbelief, he added, "Before we even met."

Those eyes. They danced. "And to think I imagined you a gentleman…"

"I'm no gentleman," he answered, sliding his hands further up her skirts.

"For which I shall be eternally grateful." She breathed out a teasing laugh, staring at him from beneath heavy lids.

Kneeling at her feet, Leopold drew imaginary flowers on skin that was softer than a butterfly's wings. Her gaze was unwavering, and with each lazy circle he drew on her inner thigh, the air between them thickened.

And thrummed.

It was a sensual weight. Heavy and warm, like that first few seconds after a shot of whiskey hits his system. Only better. Hotter.

It wasn't simple lust or even desire, but something he couldn't name.

Watching the pulse in her neck flutter, he skated his fingers higher and higher until…

She gasped and let her head fall back again.

What had he done to deserve this? To deserve her? Nothing. He'd done absolutely nothing. Leopold swallowed hard, and hidden in her skirts, his hand traced the flesh around her opening.

Wet. Plump. Sweet. His member strained, and he had to blink before he could see straight.

"Oh." She gasped, but then this proper lady, this woman , opened her knees a little wider. Amelia.

Leopold teased the length of her seam, at the same time he used his other hand to gather her skirts around her waist. She looked so damned decadent. And a little wicked.

Perfect in every way.

The darker olive color of his hand made for a stark contrast against her pale skin. He was night, she was day. He was hard, she was soft. They were two opposites in every way. But they somehow fit together perfectly.

She was beautiful everywhere. He'd never doubted it for a second.

"Mr. Beckworth?" She stared down at him, her mouth parted just enough so he could see the tip of her tongue.

"You're just so beautiful."

"So are you."

Something in Leopold broke and he dove in.

"Amelia."

She tasted even better than she looked.

So. Damn...

Everything.

Her fingers were tugging at his hair, and when he slid his hands beneath her so he could get closer, she lifted her hips to help.

He took a moment to scrape his whiskers along her thigh before using his mouth again. But he also used his fingers, and his palm. With each stroke and circle, he felt tension building in her body.

He ignored the tension building in his.

Amelia.

Her name beat in his ears like a heartbeat.

She rolled her hips higher off the table, trembling, reaching. Leopold held one palm low on her belly. And then, still kissing and rubbing, he pushed deeper…

As she climaxed around him, Leopold reveled in the pulsing, the shaking. Not to mention the sound of her voice, chanting his name.

"Mr. Beckworth, Mr. Beckworth, Mr. Beckworth …"

It should have been formal, but it was suddenly the most intimate form of address.

"Oh, my heart. Mr. Beckworth."

Time stood still, until Leopold's scalp tingled when she relaxed her grip on his hair.

Now, she would know. And long after she returned to her world, she would remember him.

"That was…" Amelia's voice drifted between them. "Unexpected."

Leopold lifted his head from his new favorite place. He needed to look at her. "You're amazing, love." He rested his chin just below her navel.

It was extraordinarily satisfying to see her like this.

Because she was, as matter of fact, amazing, but she was also… Uninhibited. Free. Not to mention sexy as hell. Lady Amelia Crowley was just so…

Mine .

As he searched her eyes, the world shifted beneath his feet.

"Come up here, Mr. Beckworth," she said. "Come to me ."

Straining inside his trousers, he pushed himself off the floor.

They should stop now. He should stop now. She lived in his world now, but would someday return to hers. It was a world with rules he didn't even try to understand.

And yet he was nudged against her center. When one of her hands gripped his waistband, she pulled him even closer.

Leopold rested his forehead on hers. "I don't want to ruin you," he whispered.

"It's too late for that."

His control was hanging on a string.

She walked her fingertips up his stomach until she reached the ‘V" of his shirt and drew his mouth to hers.

He was lost, and nothing mattered but her. Not a princess, but the sweetest of women. They kissed and they fumbled. She laughed and he smiled against her skin.

"Let me…"

"I can."

His trousers were open. Her hands seized his length. And somehow, he'd worked her breasts free of her bodice. Their mouths were equally desperate as they explored, unable to get close enough. He latched his mouth onto one rosy nipple and then the other.

She bit his shoulder.

He gripped her soft bottom.

Amelia dragged his length along her center and lined him up perfectly.

He forced himself to pause. To give her one last moment.

"Please?"

Ah… He held her gaze. Yes .

It was more than a nudge but not quite a thrust. Leopold winced, watching her expression, and for the sign that she was ready for more.

He withdrew a few inches and then buried himself deeper.

She was clinging to him with both her arms and her legs. Leopold held her tight, moving for both of them until she understood the rhythm.

It didn't take long.

And this time, when he felt her shaking and pulsing, he was riding the wave with her. Lightning popped in the back of his mind. Vague images floated there. Images of swimming through the sea, of being slammed against the rocks, fighting for his life. Fighting because of her.

By God, he'd won.

Sharp tingling shot down his spine, and claiming her, he lost himself to this woman, finding his release, but more than that perhaps.

A reason to not only survive, but to live.