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The rest of the carriage ride home was a blissful torture, prolonged by the muddied roads. Lowen endured a painful erection the entire way, not helped by Helena's plush bottom resting on his lap, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

She was soft as velvet and just as delicate to him. After her delicious orgasm, she had drifted into a euphoric stupor. Lowen would have joined her, if not for his cock begging for mercy. Still, it was better to be patient and use the time to plan for their arrival.

When they returned to Carrivick House, Lowen immediately called for a bath to be drawn in his chambers—for Helena. Still damp and giddy from their flight through the rain, he helped her undress in her room, his touch unhurried, careful.

But despite everything that had passed between them in the carriage, Helena flushed a deep crimson as he slipped the gown from her shoulders. Her arms instinctively rose to cover herself, though she made no move to stop him—until his fingers brushed the laces of her stays.

“I want to see you,” she said, soft yet insistent.

There was no resisting her—not that he could, or even wanted to.

“As you wish.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and then straightened, fingers going to his collar.

Helena watched in silence as he disrobed, piece by piece. When only his shirt and breeches remained, she drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes, wide and hungry, followed every movement.

“May I?” she asked, reaching out, her fingers tentative as they skimmed the fabric stretched across his chest.

Her touch was featherlight, yet it lit a fire beneath his skin.

With great difficulty, Lowen nodded. His erection grew fiercer and eager, but he remained patient. This coupling would be what she deserved the first time—gentle, and at her own pace.

Helena pulled his shirt over his head revealing the dark hair that dusted his chest and stomach. Her breath caught, but she said nothing, her fingertips tracing the lines of muscle beneath his skin with a light, exploratory touch—curious, almost playful.

Slowly, her hands drifted lower, hovering near the fastening of his breeches. She hesitated, a fine tremble passing through her fingers.

Lowen opened his mouth to reassure her, to tell her she didn’t have to—but before he could speak, she began to work the buttons with delicate care. One by one, they slipped free, the fabric loosening around his hips until the garment fell silently to his feet.

He breathed a sigh of relief as his cock jutted out freely, no longer confined by clothing. It hardened further, adamantly pointing toward Helena.

Her eyes widened, lips parting in astonishment. She swallowed hard. “Oh. All of that… fit inside me?”

“It will be better this time,” he promised apologetically. “I’ll make sure of it.”

His cock seemed to bob in agreement, swaying with his slight movement. Helena still hadn’t taken her eyes off it.

She nodded, her brow furrowing, distracted. “Are all men…that big?”

Lowen’s lips quirked into a brief, approving smile before he answered with sincerity. “I can’t say, but let’s not compare me to others.”

Helena blushed, then smiled back. “I like your body,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “Thank you for letting me see it.”

“Come here,” he murmured, hooking his finger over her bodice and gently drawing her toward him. “It’s your turn now.”

Once Helena stood before him, bare and vulnerable, Lowen allowed himself a moment to take in the beauty of her form.

With flared hips and a soft belly, she was a Grecian statue come to life.

He let his hands wander, tracing the delicate line of her neck, the defined collarbones, and the fullness of her breasts before descending to her rounded hips and ample thighs.

His touch continued, drawing closer, to the soft curls that lay between her legs, a place he had longed for with every part of him.

Helena shivered as he dipped a teasing finger inside her. She was wickedly tight and so wet for him.

“I want you,” she whispered, raising her lips to his.

“Your bath water will cool,” he warned, though he shared the sentiment. However, it was a heedless warning, as their mouths quickly found one another.

Standing on the tips of her toes, Helena looped her arms around his neck while Lowen gripped her supple bottom, pulling her closer to him.

“I don’t care about the bathwater,” she replied between kisses. With that admission, they tumbled onto her bed, Helena landing atop him.

Lowen adjusted her legs, positioning her to straddle him as she braced herself on his shoulders, her heavy breasts hanging just above him while his cock rested beneath the soft, slick heat of her sex.

Gripping the plump flesh of her thighs, he coaxed her into motion, guiding the rhythm of her hips back and forth over him.

“Should I not be on my back?” she managed to ask after a shuddering moan. Lowen was rubbing his thumbs over her dark nipples, watching them pucker in response.

“If you wish it,” he replied, enjoying the sight of her breasts, “but lovemaking can be done like this. In this position, you’ll have control.”

She grinned. “I like the sound of that, but what do I do?”

He instructed her to her knees, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance. As she hovered above him, he placed a steady hand on her hip, gently urging her down until she slid onto him.

“Slowly,” he said, his voice tight with restraint as she winced. She clenched around him instinctively, making it all the harder to keep his control. Every part of him burned with the urge to flip Helena onto her back and take her like a madman.

Once she sank down to the hilt, she held still, adjusting to the sensation. With his gentle encouragement, she began to move. Her arms were on either side of his head for support, while Lowen’s hands found her hips.

With measured movements, she raised and lowered herself on his cock—each slow, slick glide heavenly torture. As accustomed herself to the position, she began moving faster. Lowen watched her beautiful face contort from curiosity to pleasure as she quickened her pace, growing more confident.

He could feel the soft pressure of her pearl against his skin as she ground into him, her eyes tightly shut, teeth sinking into her lower lip, nails digging into his shoulders—she was on a path of discovery.

Lowen could only offer encouragement. “Yes, there’s my girl. Don’t stop. Take your pleasure.” He brought one hand to her breast, kneading and cupping it before drawing it to his mouth, where he flicked his tongue over the sensitive nipple.

Helena undulated atop him with growing fervor, her moans and whimpers intensifying as she ascended higher in her pleasure. He was also near his peak, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold back for her.

Finally, with a short sob, she sagged against him, her sex pulsing around him as her body trembled and quivered in the throes of rapture.

With Helena satisfied, Lowen allowed himself to let go.

His hips bucked as her convulsions continued to milk his cock, pushing him over the edge into his own climax.

He held her tightly until the final spurts of his release emptied deep inside her.

They lay tangled together for a moment afterward, breathless yet exhilarated.

Before they could succumb to the tempting pull of languor, Lowen found the strength to rise from the bed, bringing Helena with him.

The bathwater hadn’t completely cooled—it was still warm enough for a quick wash, so they took advantage of it.

Afterward, they huddled by the hearth, drying each other off with lopsided smiles and playful kisses.

Lowen had never felt so light, so limitless—not ever. He wondered if he deserved it, but there was no time to dwell on such thoughts; Helena distracted him once more with her nude body. It was too soon to have her again; besides, they were both considerably hungry now.

Once they were dressed—well, in their undergarments—Lowen rang for food.

It wasn’t yet supper; in fact, it was only sometime in the afternoon, but neither of them intended to leave the room for the rest of the day.

They took their meal on a tray in his bed—something he’d never done before—then napped for a while.

When they woke, Lowen made love to her again. This time, Helena lay on her back with her hips at the edge of the bed, legs splayed, while Lowen stood before her, watching as his cock slid in and out of her.

It was only after they made love once more after this, that they promptly fell back asleep.

The previous evening had felt more like a dream than any Helena had ever experienced while asleep.

She woke now, eager to live it all over again—though she’d have to be patient.

Behind her, Lowen’s deep, slow breaths signaled he was still asleep, one arm draped over her hips.

Not wanting to wake him, she watched the light stream through the gap in the curtains, growing stronger as the sun rose.

Helena was happy.

What a surprise—and what a turn of events.

Still, she had no desire to think about what had happened in between. It served her no good. All that mattered was the present, and the present was perfect.

Lowen stirred, stretching slightly before tightening his hold on her and pulling her closer.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning indeed,” Helena replied. She felt his erection on her back.

He placed a kiss behind her ear, and she shivered in response. “Are you sore?” he asked, his hand sliding up to fondle her breast.

“Not at all,” she lied—she was a little tender, but nothing she couldn’t ignore for the sake of pleasure. She meant to turn and face him, but he stopped her, holding her firmly in place.

Lowen pushed the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, then gently lifted her leg, cradling it behind the knee to give himself access. With no resistance, he slid into her—Helena had scarcely realized she was already wet and ready for him.