The night he so brutally snatched her innocence from her, Sebastian did not fully appreciate the rare, fleeting beauty the Heavens gave him.

He meant to hurt her then, to abuse the trust she placed in him, to punish her. But now, he wanted Ivy with a desperation never experienced before. He wanted to possess her until she moaned his name with every thrust of his hips. He needed to see the flush of passion on her skin as he brushed it with his lips, to taste her arousal and drink her in like the finest of wines. He ached to give her such soaring pleasure, every painful memory beginning with him would be forever erased.

Come morning, Ivy would hate him again, if she remembered this seduction, if intoxication did not blot it from her memory. Sebastian knew he would remember this night for the rest of his life. He experienced a fleeting pang of remorse. He wanted her to remember it too, without anger or the ugly cloud of revenge shadowing the memory.

Ivy squirmed, her long slender legs wrapping loosely around him, and Sebastian paled, sweat beading on his brow. The rose petals he scattered across her stomach rubbed softly against his skin. It took all his strength to keep from surging into her.

Christ, she had no inkling of the power she held over him. Her lush tightness, all of her inner channel muscles, were clenched against his intrusion. Despite his bitter accusations and her own words to the contrary, Sebastian knew he was Ivy’s only lover. He could not mistake the signs of flesh well acquainted with pleasure, not after the number of women he had enjoyed over the years. Her body was taut around him, almost unbearably so, her arms and legs awkwardly wrapped about him in innocent desire. No, Ivy was still his. Despite the pain and heartache suffered at his hand, she was his alone.

With the flurry of a trapped hummingbird, her heartbeat thumped, working its way to the inside of his veins, in his head, around his shaft. She reached to ruffle her fingers through the thick waves of his hair, brushing back a lock from his brow, and Sebastian closed his eyes in torment.

Jaw clenched, he finally met her questioning gaze and said, “Bloody hell, you aren’t making it easy for me to do this slowly.” He nudged forward a little more.

“I don’t understand.” Ivy’s ragged whisper was half gasp and half moan. “Would you rather move quickly?”

Sebastian choked back a laugh, his forehead touching hers. His blood thickened to the consistency of lava. “Ivy, slow or fast, it won’t matter. I’ve no control with you. Holy hell, you have no idea what you are doing to me.”

Sliding his lips along the side of her neck, he nibbled at the slim column until he reached one of her earlobes. With a tiny bite, he won a gasp. When he chased it with a sweep of his tongue to ease the sting, she gave him a melting sigh. His hips prodded hers, and with a maddening rhythm, began to slide in, then out, stretching her, filling her. The blood whirred around his head in a self-contained tornado, exploding into his veins, rushing to the extremities of his body.

The silk of her skin, the warmth of her, her scent. That damned orange and lily perfume combined with the aroma of crushed roses; it all surrounded him. He rocked against her, the tempo slow then quicker, harder. Containing his impatience made him quiver. Sliding a hand to the outside of her thigh, he hitched her leg higher. Maybe he could ease back to a rhythm that would not send him catapulting into a climax.

“Damnit...” Gliding into her slick heat was far too easy in this position. With a silent groan of anguish, he gave a compulsive, deep plunge and suddenly, everything within Ivy tightened around him.

It was the strangest sensation. Even with his vast experience, Sebastian never felt its like before. He tried to withdraw, to slow himself, to slow her, but it all rushed so recklessly, too quickly, too frantically. Ivy would not allow his retreat. Clutching him, she arched with a high, keening cry of pleasure.

A portion of his consciousness shouted at him, to withdraw before it was too late, but he could not resist. With a strangled curse, he thrust into her just one degree more. Taking her, branding her, marking her as his possession. The need to find release was excruciating.

“God, Ivy…I can’t stop.”

Her orgasm sent beautiful shivering waves reverberating throughout his entire body. She trembled beneath him. Catching her hips in an almost violent grip, he tried holding her immobile.

“Don’t stop.” Was her broken response. “Oh, please…Sebastian…please.”

He plummeted with her incoherent command, spilling inside her with a hoarse, muffled shout of male conquest, a forceful culmination of pent up desire and the need to possess. He barely heard Ivy crying out her pleasure. The throbbing satisfaction inside him was almost painful, the world fading to black as he gave himself to her. His heart, his very soul exploded from him, rocketing around the world before slamming back into his body with the fury of a lightning strike.

When sanity returned, Sebastian discovered the pieces of himself, the fragments missing for so very long, were right there before him. This girl, this exasperating, headstrong, mysterious girl, held them all along.

Such frightening sensations, he mused, these quivers of protectiveness unfurling in his heart for the girl lying damp and breathless beneath him. So foreign and yet, nothing ever felt more magnificent than holding her, feeling the quivering of her body. Slipping his arms under her shoulders, he folded Ivy closer to him, savoring the odd, fragile emotions, promising himself he would not be so selfish again in their lovemaking. Something extraordinary had happened to him, although it was all too terrifying to contemplate in its entirety.

As his heartbeat slowed, finding its normal cadence, he felt the slightest change sweep over her. Sebastian frowned, puzzled by the new, soft ripples.

She was weeping.

Rolling to his side, he positioned Ivy until she lay cradled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Tears splashed his skin, her breath moist where it feathered his neck. With soothing murmurs, he stroked her hair, brushing kisses against her forehead, but she did not acknowledge his caresses as a tangle of emotions escaped.

She cried for a long time, until only ragged breaths of exhaustion remained and she drifted into a restless slumber. Sebastian rose and threw on a silk robe, crossing the room to lean a forearm against the marble mantle.

There were so many things to consider, things lurking below the surface of his controlled veneer. Something far more lethal than revenge and punishment had wrapped itself around his heart. Rubbing his chest, he stared into the flames of the banked fire. It was harder than he imagined, scouring away the guilt plaguing him since that night in her father’s study.

A stark realization illuminated his entire being; twisting sensations evolving from the moment he laid eyes on Ivy at the Sheffield Ball. Emerging from the darkened corner of Kinley House’s entry hall and in the shadowy interior of his own coach. Unfurling in dazzling beauty on ballroom floors as he whirled Ivy to the lilting strains of waltzes. Feathering coyly during walks in the moonlight. Without warning, these emotions bloomed in the shade of a cove of elm trees and flourished while duels were fought with persistent bumblebees. But tonight- tonight everything burst forth in full conquering glory. Like a butterfly born in spring.

He needed Ivy. He wanted her. He longed for her smile, her touch, her scent.

I love her.

Loved her beyond all reason. Loved her fire, her sweetness, her soul. Her body. Her mind. All of her.

Tonight changed everything. Sebastian glanced at the bed, where the source of his confusion and the threat to his sanity slept in a tangled heap of white silk sheets and red rose petals. He wanted to crawl back beside her, gather her close and shield her from men who would hurt her, men like himself.

Gingerly, he touched his shoulder. Ivy was not completely helpless. Her teeth left their mark, and drunk or not, she fought like a true hellion. With the frustrated awareness of a man who planned for everything, who held purpose and reason for every action, Sebastian was suddenly unsure of his next steps. He made love to her…and it would never be enough. This obsession would never end. He wanted her for eternity.

How he would gain her consent, he had no idea, but on the morrow, he would obtain a special marriage license. Convincing Ivy Kinney to become his wife was a problem in need of a solution. But his wife she would be.