“I’ve released my seed inside you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Was he worried about foisting a bastard on her? She pushed aside the ache building in her chest. Lily could not bring herself to explain why he worried for naught.
“If there are consequences from our passions, you will need to know who I am.”
She stiffened. “Is this your way of trying to uncover my identity?”
“No,” he murmured. “It is a credible concern.”
Lily frowned, thinking swiftly. It was not common knowledge that she was unable to bear fruit. Perhaps to reveal her state would not be a clue to her identity. Still, she hesitated, a peculiar feeling of vulnerability creeping over her. She frantically thought of the things she had learned from reading salacious books like Fanny Hill. “I…I am a woman of the world. I’ve taken precautions.”
“Such as?” Incredulity rang in his tone.
“I’m sure you are a man of the world yourself and know of which I speak.”
“Educate me,” he murmured drily.
Lily swallowed, grateful they were in the dark because she was blushing. “I inserted a small sponge with vi
negar.”
His grunt revealed he had indeed heard of such practices to prevent conception. “Curious. All I tasted was the sweetness of your cunt.”
The heat in her face multiplied.
“Are you by chance blushing?”
“Of course not,” she gritted out.
A low chuckle came from him. Her lover eased her gently off his body and pushed from the bed. He padded over to the window, where the moonlight painted a section of his body in a silvery glow. She came up on her elbows, her heart a pounding mess, wondering if the light would illuminate his face. There was a splash of water, and she made out that a basin was on a small table. Her lover turned around, and she gasped audibly. His body was a work of art. His chest and arms flexed with power, his tight abdomen rippled with strength. And his manhood…dear heavens. Though flaccid, it hung heavy and thick. Now she understood the ache her core throbbed with even now.
He stepped forward, and the darkness swallowed him once more. His weight dipped the bed. “Open your legs.”
She complied. Fingers stroked up her legs to her tender core. Then something damp and cool replaced his questing fingers. He touched her with exquisite gentleness as he cleaned their combined release from her body.
“Tell me your name.”
She flinched at the unexpected request. “No,” she said, careful to keep her tone low and husky.
“Do you wonder who I am?”
Always. “Yes.”
“I hunger to know you.”
“You are in possession of my diary, which holds my most secret thoughts.”
He gripped her hips and encouraged her to turn and lay on her stomach in the center of the large bed. Then he used the washcloth and cleaned the hollow between her buttocks. Her eyes widened when he lingered a little too long at that forbidden entrance. The cloth disappeared, and a few seconds later, the heat of him blanketed her body. He was careful to keep most of his weight off her, and Lily felt perplexing reassured and intimidated in equal measure by his muscled hardness.
“Your words reveal to me your wanton heart, but there is so much more, isn’t there?”
A fierce joy clutched at her heart that he wanted to know more about her. She also wept with relief, for she had a similar need, and it felt incredible to know he didn’t just see her as a quick, nameless liaison.
“What is the dance you like best?”
“The waltz.” The only time she had ever indulged in the scandalous dance was earlier with Lord Ambrose. How delightful it had been. “I feel so free and alive when I am twirled across the ballroom floor.”
He pressed a light kiss on her shoulder. “Do you like animals?”