Ivy grasped the carved wood top of the divan and using it for leverage, her hips began a slow, tantalizing rise and fall. The sensations were exquisite, although there was an intense compulsion to rotate against Sebastian. She had no control over her body. It instinctively knew what to do to create immense pleasure for them both.

He did not object. His hands roamed over her curved rear, then gripping her waist before drifting further upward. He rubbed tantalizing circles over her sensitive nipples then cupped her breasts, the weight of them filling his palms. Wherever his fingers trailed, tingling explosions of sensations burst until Ivy thought she might actually go up in flames.

He splayed his hands below her shoulder blades, his mouth locking on a peach crested breast, her nipple sucked and twirled into scorching heat. Ivy gasped as he raked the bud with his teeth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue until it puckered. Her breath quickened, her skin warming by degrees until she was a burning flame beneath his palms. When he lavished the same care to her other breast, Ivy abandoned her hold on the divan. Her head fell back until her hair brushed against the tops of his thighs and she realized with a dazed sort of bemusement that he still wore his breeches, the garment pushed down to accommodate her naked body straddling him.

Sebastian held her hips, helping her rise up and down upon his body. Ivy braced her hands against his broad chest, trembling at the sensation of being filled so completely. When she moaned, his hand pressed against her lips to stifle the sounds of her mounting pleasure. Without a second thought, Ivy took his fingers into her mouth, twirling her tongue around them as her body stiffened.

“Damnit, Ivy,” Sebastian choked, captivated by the sight of her lips wrapped about his fingers. And Ivy knew...he was thinking of his erection in her mouth. Because she was thinking of it too.

The pleasure was too piercing, too great to bear. It overwhelmed her, sucking her into a dark whirlpool. Nothing kept her from drowning in the depths of obsession as she struggled to breathe, to comprehend the tidal wave of feelings flooding her. When she bit him, it was sheer reflex, a primal way of balancing out the intense pleasure when the climax shattered her. Sebastian grunted as her sharp teeth scored his index finger.

The flurry of her body tightening around him, the pulsating intensity of the tremors and her high, restrained sob of satisfaction sent his lust spiking to summits never before reached. Ripping his hand away, he pulled her down, hard, forcefully, until he exploded inside her with a muffled shout.

As Ivy quivered, still riding her own wave of pleasure, Sebastian crushed her to him, devouring her mouth with fierce kisses, silently telling her she belonged to him and no one else. He kissed her until she was soft and compliant in his arms; until she kissed him back so gently, it made him aware just how tightly he held her.

His grip loosened slightly. Ivy sighed, burrowing into his chest. Pressing languid kisses to his neck and the tops of his shoulders, she huddled close while Sebastian exhaled slowly, catching his breath. They dozed off to sleep while he was still buried deep within her, Ivy’s soft breath fanning his jaw.

* * *

Sebastian roused himself from a surprisingly comfortable position. An overwhelming giddiness permeated his entire being. He lay prone on the settee, arms folded about Ivy’s waist, his head against her temple. She sprawled over him like an imperious kitten. Half aroused, his erection waited inside her, twitching in response to the feminine scent and heat surrounding him.

For God’s sake, he still wore his breeches and boots. Biting back a rueful grin, Sebastian slid her from his lap, using his shirt to wipe the stickiness from her thighs and from herself. When he drew the blanket over her, Ivy mumbled in her sleep, curling her legs on the settee while trying to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Sweetness, we must go up to bed. It would not do for the servants to discover us here in the morning.” He smiled when she frowned in drowsy disagreement.

“Mmmm, lock the door.”

“A brilliant idea, my love, but I did that before. Come now. I’ll help you dress.”

Sebastian fastened his breeches, fingers fumbling as he gazed down at her curled on the cranberry colored velvet. The fire burned low, making it difficult to make out her features, but he knew every sweet curve and angle of her face. Tracing the pertness of her nose with a forefinger, he slipped an arm beneath her to pull her upright.

Ivy’s eyes never opened as he slipped her nightgown over her head and pulled her arms into the matching wrapper. “It’s inside out,” she murmured, swaying in drowsy acceptance of his assistance.

“That doesn’t matter, love.” He located her slippers under the divan.

“For a countess it does,” Ivy yawned.

When the slippers were on her delicate feet and the robe wrapped securely, Sebastian stepped away to make sure the fire was properly banked. Once that was done, he twisted about to find Ivy slumped back onto the seat of the divan, her hands curved beneath under her cheek.

“Oh, for the love of…” He bit off the remainder of a bemused curse then scooped his exhausted wife up into his arms.

With a fervent hope no insomniac servant roamed the halls, he carried her through the darkened mansion. Upon reaching their bedchamber, he laid her gently on the bed then tended the fire until it burned merrily in the hearth. Hastily stripping off his breeches and boots, Sebastian climbed between the sheets and Ivy immediately gravitated to him, curving against his side, her legs twining with his.

Sebastian pondered Ivy’s surrender, the willingness to make their marriage a true one. Did she truly believe he would not survive a duel with Basford? Or, had she finally accepted the inevitability of being his?

Whatever it was, Sebastian decided, settling back against the pillows and pulling her closer, he was grateful.