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She refocused on his cock, leaning forward and opening her mouth.

Watching her lips stretch over his engorged flesh was the most erotic image Edward had ever seen.

When her hot, wet mouth encased him and she tentatively sucked, Edward couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting forward.

He tightened his hand around hers, forcing her to grip him hard, and pulling up and down the length of his staff in rough motions.

She caught his rhythm, matching her mouth to their hands.

Her tongue ran along the underside of his cock, hitting a sensitive spot where the head met his shaft.

He wasn’t going to last. Pulling free of her, he kept her hand on him as he stroked hard.

He couldn’t look away from their joined hands around his steel shaft as the sweet burning joy built to a crescendo.

Jets of seed pulsed from him, coating Ivy’s chest and belly, painting her with his essence as pleasure echoed through his body in ever-expanding circles.

Her eyes widened, locked on to his cock, but she didn’t pull free of his grasp and when he released her hand, she kept pumping until he gripped her wrist, stopping her.

He was panting like a man running from his demons.

And maybe he was. ‘I’m sorry.’ He’d pushed too far, lost to his own needs instead of ensuring she found pleasure in the moment.

Desperately looking for a cloth, he settled on his shirt and snagged it from the chair.

Grasping Ivy’s hand, he carefully helped her stand.

She still hadn’t said anything, blinking like a dazed woman recovering from a fainting spell.

Edward tried to remain focused on cleaning her, but it was impossible not to note her swollen nipples, her ragged breaths, her sweet lips darkened to ripe berries.

Catching his hand, she stilled his movement.

He didn’t want to look at her, couldn’t bear to see shame or disgust or – God damn me to hell – fear in her eyes.

But he refused to be a coward. Lifting his eyes, he held his breath and met her crystal gaze.

‘That was… astounding.’ Her face wasn’t full of anger or fear, but rather an astonishing kind of knowledge.

‘I did that to you.’ She shook her head.

‘I made you come apart.’ Ivy pressed his palm against the valley between her breasts.

‘Do you feel my heart? How can sucking you make me ache here?’ She slid his hand down her tight belly to cup her mound. ‘Burn here?’

‘Giving someone else pleasure can increase your own.’ If you care for them. If their experience is more important than your own. He curled his middle finger, splitting her outer lips and dipping into her molten core. She shuddered before pulling his hand away.

‘I think we should stop.’

Immediately, Edward stepped back. ‘Of course.’

Ivy walked to the peg holding her nightgown and wrap. She pulled the flannel robe around her, hugging herself. ‘For now.’ She spoke the word quietly, her eyes focused on his knees before she flicked them up to his face.

He held on to those two words with the same desperation a man might hold on to the rope keeping him from a deadly fall. ‘For now?’

Her blush darkened over her neck and Edward wanted to pull the robe open to watch it transform her skin but busied his hands instead with re-donning his breeches.

‘I was hoping we might finish the list. Maybe add more to it? Tomorrow night, perhaps? If you are agreeable to that plan.’

Edward would be agreeable to any plan involving Ivy’s naked body joined with his. Buttoning and tying his breeches, he tried to keep his expression from showing his exuberance. ‘I don’t believe I have any other pressing matters.’

Ivy raised a pale brow. ‘Well, as long as your calendar remains free, then.’

He took a step closer, pulled her into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss against her mouth, inhaling her scent, memorising her flavour. ‘Nothing could keep me from you.’

He meant to say, nothing could keep him from meeting with her tomorrow night.

But as the words slipped free, the truth of them resonated in his chest. Nothing could keep him away from Ivy.

Tomorrow. The next day. Forever. Whether he deserved her or not.

Whether she wanted him or pushed him away.

The trajectory of his life was permanently altered.

She was now true north to his internal compass.

Dear God. I love her.

Dear God. I need to leave.

In a shattering moment of self-realisation, Edward came to a painful truth.

He could refuse Ivy nothing. If she asked him to stay with her, forever, he would.

Which was impossible. He couldn’t betray his oath.

If he came to Ivy the next night, it would never be enough.

He would come back again and again and again.

Philippa told him to tell Ivy the truth, but she was finally wrong.

If Ivy heard his worst sin and still accepted him, or even worse, if she fell in love with him despite his crimes, there would be no force in nature that might stop Edward from staying with Ivy forever.

Even the promise he made so many years ago to remain alone.

A punishment he very much deserved to endure.

He was a fool to believe he was strong enough to resist Ivy’s pull.

If he didn’t walk away now, he would break his vow and lose his last shred of honour.

So instead, he must break his promise to teach Ivy pleasure.

She ran her fingers along his jaw. ‘Goodnight, Edward.’

‘Goodnight, Ivy.’

But what he really meant was goodbye.

* * *

Twelve days had passed since Ivy’s first night with Edward.

The ball was only two days away. He had been planning to join her the evening after their encounter, but Sarah fell ill, and Ivy spent the next several days tending to the poor girl and hoping none of the other children displayed symptoms. Scarlet fever was a constant fear in the orphanages, but it wasn’t the only illness that could steal lives.

Luckily, Sarah never developed the bright-red rash or swollen neck indicative of the frightening malaise.

She recovered from her cold with relative ease, but then Philippa descended.

The duchess insisted they tour other orphanages to determine exactly how dire the situation might be for the children.

After seeing ten different foundling homes in seven days, it became clear to Ivy it was dire indeed.

Much needed to be done for the parentless youth of London.

Institutions varied wildly in quality of food and cleanliness.

Access to schooling was limited or non-existent, and the overall health and safety of the children was questionable at best. It was clear to see how a brotherhood like the Devil’s Sons could so easily infiltrate the disorganised institutions and steal children with no fear of repercussions.

It was also clear that someone needed to be standing up for these innocents.

When speaking with various individuals responsible for running the homes, Ivy found most were just as harried and overwhelmed as she felt.

Struggling for resources, inundated with more children than beds to house them, and battling against distrust and misgivings from orphans who had only ever seen the ugliest life had to offer felt like an impossible task.

Many of the patrons were just fighting to survive.

But a few of the men who only deigned to speak with her because the duchess stood by her side were less than forthcoming.

One glance at Philippa confirmed her suspicions.

These men were profiting from the money being donated while the children under their care were suffering.

It was enough to make Ivy’s blood boil, and to convince her Philippa might be right.

Mayhap she could do more good working to improve all the orphanages instead of just hers.

But she was loath to admit this to the duchess.

Philippa was far too comfortable being right.

Probably because it happens so frequently.

And if she did fall in line with Philippa’s plans, she would be working closely with Edward for the foreseeable future. Just the thought caused an alarming thud in her chest and warm tingles in all the places his mouth had touched her those twelve long nights ago.

She would need to move back with her aunt and allow a new headmistress to take over the orphanage to focus her efforts on the task force.

While helping Edward ensure London’s orphanages provided safe, healthy, caring environments would come without income or even recognition – after all, a woman could hardly be expected to publicly take on such a role – Ivy could be frugal with her spending and live off the inheritance from her father.

Knowing she would be impacting the lives of so many was humbling and something she very much hoped she could accomplish.

It would be worth living with Aunt Gertrude indefinitely.

As Ivy sat down at her desk to make notes of what still needed to be accomplished before the charity ball, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back and remembering what it felt like to sit in that exact chair, only with Edward beneath her.

Why hasn’t he returned?

The first few nights away from Edward, she had been focused on Sarah, mopping her brow, holding her when the nightmares came, letting her cuddle the kitten whom Sarah insisted on naming D’Artagnan.

After several frightening nights, Sarah began to fare better, and Ivy returned to her room, although D’Artagnan did not.

He had found himself a much more adoring human to keep him happy with cuddles, stolen snacks from the kitchen, and endless ear scratches.

And his absence only highlighted her loneliness.